Justice for Stealing My Reproductive Rights

The fertility clinic called to inform me that my embryos were ready for transfer.

I touched my abdomen, still numb from the anesthesia of that morning's egg retrieval. Even with cutting-edge medical technology, embryos couldn't be prepared this quickly.

Before I could call back to clarify, my husband stopped me. "Mom's been pressing us hard. I pulled some strings to fast-track the process so you can get pregnant sooner. Imagine twins! My buddies will be green with envy."

Silent, I drove straight to the clinic and dialed 911 on the way. "Hello? I'm reporting a fertility clinic involved in illegal surrogacy."

...

The more I thought about it, the more it didn't add up. "An expedited process?"

As a seasoned prosecutor who'd handled countless medical disputes, I knew it took at least five days from egg retrieval to embryo formation.

I recalled my husband's words from a few days ago. "Why bring your work attitude home? Must you always be so nitpicky? It's exhausting."

Lemuel Hanson didn't understand that my meticulousness had cleared countless injustices. Once doubt took root, I had to get to the truth.

I floored the gas pedal. Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the VIP Fertility Center on the third floor of the clinic. Bypassing the crowded front desk, I approached the head nurse in charge of my case.

"I'm Brenda Hanson," I said. "I had my egg retrieval this morning."

She looked up from her computer, startled. "Mrs. Hanson? Your proxy has already finalized the transfer plan."

I froze, confused. "Proxy?"

"Dr. Ainsley Bailey came in person to confirm everything is on track," she explained.

"Ainsley Bailey?" My grip tightened on my car keys. "I never appointed a proxy."

The nurse stood up, visibly annoyed. "But your file lists Dr. Bailey as your proxy. She even contributed her own eggs for the embryo cultivation."

She clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing she'd revealed too much, and avoided my gaze.

Ainsley was doing it again. She was Lemuel's so-called best friend and the clinic's star doctor.

About to press, I caught sight of Ainsley in her white coat at the end of the hallway, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Lemuel. She laughed and leaned into him flirtatiously, her demeanor gratingly intimate.

Her smile vanished at my stare, replaced by a nervous greeting. "Brenda? What are you doing here?"

Lemuel turned, not surprised but irritated, as if I'd intruded. He strode over, his voice low and accusatory. "What's this about? I told you to wait at home for updates."

His tone set me off, but I ignored him, locking eyes with Ainsley. My body trembled with rage. "Why are you listed as my proxy for this procedure? And why are your eggs being used with Lemuel's for embryo transfer? You'd better have a good explanation."

Her face paled, morphing into a mask of wounded innocence.