It has not come to pass. And it never will.
A visit to the gynae late in 2011 took care of that. Susan returned with the news that, as we both suspected, she was peri-menopausal. Her body has become incapable of conceiving children.
I concealed my intense disappointment. I did not want this news to affect Susan any more than it might in any other circumstances.
My search for a child needed to revert to the plan I had created while I was single, pre-Susan. But would I be able to find another woman — a significantly younger woman — willing to co-create and co-parent a child with me? And would Susan be willing to accept this state of affairs? Was I being, characteristically, far too optimistic? Idealistic? Was my idea just crazy?
As I write, I have the answer to only the first of these questions. I have found a woman, in her early forties, who desperately wants to add a child to her brood. Her brood of just one gorgeous daughter, aged nine. Caroline is single, appears to want to remain so, and wants to have a second child before it is too late.
She was introduced to me via a mutual friend, one who, when she heard of Caroline's desire to mother a second child, possibly through an anonymous sperm donor, thought immediately of me.
We began e-mail communication and then, in the days after Christmas Day, 2011, we met. I warmed to her, both as a person I could trust and respect... and, even more importantly, as the very good mother she clearly was. I liked the way she interacted with her daughter, Keira, her gentle and supportive approach to mothering her. I loved their almost sisterly bond. I like Caroline.
And she has clearly seen in me a man who desperately wants to be a father, one who will be supportive of her, a decent and reasonable person who will not shirk the responsibilities expected of a father. And those of a "co-parent". Because she has come to realise that "Egg", as we call our unborn, as yet uncreated child, will need a father-figure, a male mentor, another closely-bonded role model. Caroline has realised that she does not want her second child to be fatherless.
And I have had to accept that I will not be the fully participative father I had hoped to be. First, Caroline and I live a good two-hour flight apart. Second, Caroline has had to make the emotional and psychological transition from wanting her child to be born of anonymously donated sperm to having a father with a face and a heart. I need, if I want to realise my dream, to meet her somewhere in the middle. So, in the agreement we plan to have drawn up, I will slot in as a, say, 25 percent participative father. There is much work to be done on the "Project Egg Agreement", but I think I will get to spend no more than 10 weeks of each year with my child.
Caroline is to be the "primary care-giver". I will support her — and, of course, Egg — in whatever way necessary. Financially, emotionally... and in many ways not immediately apparent to me. But, for most of the year - for 42 0f the 52 weeks in a year — this will be given from a distance.
I believe I can manage with this. To be honest, and completely realistic, this is probably a better arrangement for me than full "24/7" parenting. I am in my mid-fifties, a person with no experience of parenting and, most pertinently, a somewhat self-indulgent man who is accustomed to having almost unlimited time to indulge in my passions: writing, photography, spirituality, music and staring at the mountains from my stoep with not very much on my mind at all. I lead a slow and meditative life, not one immediately compatible with the demands of bringing up a child on a permanently "hands-on" basis.
"Why, at your age, would you want to have a child?" asked a very dear friend recently. I get this question. I get it from myself. Often. I have tried giving myself all sorts of answers but there is only one which rings absolutely true. And this is what I said in response to my friend: "It's a primeval urge thing."
I accept that it sounds like a rubbish reason. In fact, when I said it out aloud to her, a vision swept through my mind's eye of me slouching somewhat menacingly around my village wearing animal skins and carrying a very large club.
"Why don't you just adopt a child? There are thousands of orphans in South Africa desperate for a good upbringing and a chance in life," say others. True. I completely accept that. But it just wouldn't be the same. I want to have my own child. My child. My blood. My flesh. I said that I was self-indulgent.
Self-indulgent to the extent that I am hoping to be able to continue my beautiful — and much cherished — relationship with Susan while being a father, no matter if only 25 percent participative, to a child shared with another woman.
Susan has met Caroline. Briefly. She liked her as a person. And she admired her as a mother. This was hugely important for me to hear. It was a good start. But, I must report, there is some way to go before I receive Susan's full approval for "Project Egg". She is rightly grappling with the ramifications of how me being the father of somebody else's child will work for our relationship. I understand her anxieties. I am fearful of "Project Egg" impacting negatively on Susan and I. I am determined that it won't, that I will get the balance right between being a good partner and a good father. After all, how many divorced people have to find a balance between their children from a broken marriage and their new love partners?
I write all of this at a particularly interesting time. Susan and I are meeting this evening for dinner and to continue our conversation about how this could work. I need to listen to her fears, her misgivings, her doubts and any other feelings that come up for her. Susan is a very down-to-earth and pragmatic person. She has often said that, as a parent herself, she understands my want for a child. And she wants me to be happy. She has also said "that she will not stand in my way" but that, should my having a child with another woman not work for her, she "will step out of our relationship".
What I want to say to her is that what would give me ultimate happiness is for us to continue to grow our precious, "mutually respectful", "mutually accepting" relationship in tandem with — and parallel to — my possible new life as a father. The father of a much sought-after child to be created and co-parented with a woman who I see as a good friend. And as a woman I can trust to be an extremely good mother for our child.
After my conversation with Susan tonight, I will travel down to Cape Town tomorrow morning to meet Caroline for coffee. I hope to take positive news. I hope to take with me some reassurance that I can be the partially participative father she wants for "Egg" and, at the same time, be confident — or as confident as anybody can be about any relationship in this day and age — that Susan and I will remain on track to take our love relationship to the even more beautiful place where I believe it is headed.
Is this possible? Am I completely deluded? Does this represent a massive self-indulgence on my part? Is this impractical, unworkable, unattainable? I believe that it is none of those. I believe that I can have "the best of both worlds". I believe that Susan, Caroline and I can make this work. I believe that, in life, there is an abundance of happiness for all of us.
I shall report back to you as soon as I see more clearly how this is to evolve.
