Have you ever seen a Persian cat panic? They stick out their little pink tongues and pant. I’ll put money on the fact that there’s a bit of that going on in 312 this morning.
That’s because the purpose of the trip is finally upon us. We’re going to meet Orla May at 1pm and I have a very nervous friend, one floor below me in his own gorgeous room, prowling around and panting slightly I have no doubt.
If you’ve been with me from the beginning of this trip, you’ll recall that Stuart gifted the other half of what was required to make a baby to his old friend and her girlfriend. And it worked perfectly as now they have a beautiful little four month old girl called Orla May and we are in London to meet her.
Donor sperm is having a cultural moment it seems to me. “The kids are all right”, “The backup plan”, “The switch” – mainstream movies for mainstream people with baby batter at the heart of them. And now we’re in our own film. Stuart is the protaganist. I have a small but stunning role playing a woman who knows too well the deep heart pain that unconditional love can bring and am standing by to catch the donor should he be blindsided by it.
Can sperm actually be a gift with red ribbon but no string attached?
Batter up folks. We’re going in.