I said, “Mom—” But she held up her hand to stop me.
“Scott, my beautiful son, my adorable, precious son. You know how much I love you, and I know how much you love me. Everything was so clear to me just a few days ago. Our roles—you, me, and your dad. Then, you told me what you had done at the clinic, and it all became blurred.”
I nodded, but couldn’t think of one word I could say that would make this any easier on Mom or me.
“You got me pregnant by artificial insemination. A mother pregnant with her son’s child. But, the accident… that changed everything. We lost something. We lost it as a family. Me as a mother, your dad, thinking he was to become a father for the second time, and you, the real father of my… of our baby. No wonder you took it so hard. You lost a child too, not just an embryo that was to be a brother or a sister.”
“Mom, I only wanted to make things better.”
“And, you had made them better. Look at how happy we all were.”
Mom sat on the bed, like all of a sudden she was exhausted.
“When you told me what you had done, all my hopes vanished. My mind couldn’t deal with the reality of not having another child. If I hadn’t already been forced to come to grips with the idea of carrying my son’s child, I never would have forced you to do what we did last night.”
“You didn’t force me, Mom.”
“It may seem like that now, but in the future, you may have a different view.”
I sat next to her and took her hand in both of mine. “Mom, I’m glad we tried together last night.”
Mom leaned and put her forehead against my and rocked back and forth. She usually did this when we were sharing things that needed time and understanding to express.
“I appreciate the, Scott. But, there’s something else. Another side of what happened that I can’t deny, I can’t run away from, and I won’t be able to ever forget: that’s the way my body betrayed me.”
“Betrayed you? How?”
“I should have been calm, clinical, and detached. In control. I wasn’t. My body responded in a way it hasn’t in a very long time. So much so that my conscious mind denied it until the whole experience came crashing onto me this morning when I awoke. Maybe sleeping gave my unconscious time to process my unspeakable behavior. Scott, I’m so ashamed today, and I feel so guilty.”
“Mom, you shouldn’t.”
“It’s bad enough to make you do what we did, but for your own mother to get sexually excited, to react, to actually climax… that’s totally unacceptable, and I can only ask for forgiveness from you, from your dad, whom I feel I’ve now physically and emotionally betrayed, and from God, who must see this act as the unholiest of deeds.”
Mom was deeply religious, something that my grandparents had strictly enforced. Part of that was making her feel guilty about every “sin” she committed.
Suddenly, I found words I wanted to say: “Mom, I’m glad we made love. I’m glad my sperm is inside you right now as we sit here. And, Mom, I’m glad I made you cum.”
“Scott, don’t talk like that. Please.”
“Mom, you had your say. Do you want me to be honest? Do you want me to open up to you? Or do you want me to shut up and keep it to myself.”