#egg donor san diego

[coochiequeens]

A hospital made amends to one woman by paying to exploit another?

NHS pays £1 million for woman left infertile by bungled surgery to have a surrogate baby

Donna Roberts, 41, was left infertile by a botched operation 15 years ago

Baby Mia was born last summer and Donna hopes for her to have two siblings

By JAMES TOZER

PUBLISHED: 17:00 EDT, 4 August 2023 | UPDATED: 17:29 EDT, 4 August 2023

A woman left infertile by a bungling surgeon has fulfilled her dream of becoming a mother after the NHS paid £1million for a surrogate in California.

Donna Roberts, 41, was injured in a botched operation for a bowel condition 15 years ago.

The internal damage left her infertile, apparently robbing her and husband Marc, 47, of their hopes of starting a family. 

But in 2020 the Supreme Court ruled that women left unable to conceive due to medical negligence can claim the cost of a surrogacy abroad.

Mrs Roberts' lawyers secured a settlement to fund an egg donor and surrogate in San Diego.

And baby Mia was born last summer – and celebrates her first birthday next Saturday. The couple now hope the payout will fund up to two siblings for Mia.

'I still can't believe she's really here,' Mrs Roberts said yesterday. 'We're both absolutely besotted with her. 

After everything we've gone through since my surgery, it's incredible to think that we've finally got a family of our own.

'Mia is doing brilliantly, she's such a cheeky, bubbly, happy little thing. What I went through in hospital has changed my life forever, I'll never be the same again. But Mia is the ultimate silver lining.'

Mrs Roberts had surgery at Gwynedd Hospital in Bangor, North Wales, in 2007 for complications from ulcerative colitis.

But after an operation, which a review found to be 'doomed to failure', she was left battling sepsis and MRSA, and told she could not conceive. 

The surgery meant it was unsafe to harvest her eggs. so she and her electrician husband began legal action.

After the Supreme Court ruling, their lawyer, Richard Malloy of Gregory Abrams Davidson Solicitors, secured an apology from Betsi Cadwaladr health board.

A confidential settlement covered the £300,000 cost of organising a surrogate to California – where commercial surrogacy is legal – including legal, travel and accommodation bills. 

After choosing an egg donor who resembled Mrs Roberts and shared their Welsh roots, the eggs were fertilised in a laboratory using Mr Roberts' sperm. 

The embryos were then implanted in teacher Reggi'e Webster's womb. Mia was born on August 12 last year.

'It was just the most incredible moment,' Mrs Roberts said. 'Because surrogacy is so normal in California, there was absolutely no awkwardness about it.' 

The couple, who moved from Llangefni in Anglesey to Liverpool after losing faith with the health service in North Wales, now hope to try for a second child using the same surrogate. 

Mrs Roberts said: 'For some people the best option may be adoption. But for us it's been a dream come true.'

Mr Malloy said: 'The very significant hospital failings cruelly deprived Donna of the ability to conceive naturally, and we are delighted to have been able to support her and Marc.'

Ysbyty Gwynedd Hospital is run by Betsi Cadwaladr University Health Board which is in special measures after its leadership was branded 'dysfunctional'.

Executive medical director, Dr Nick Lyons, said: 'We offer our most sincere apologies to Mrs Roberts and hope that the settlement reached will provide the support she needs.' 

He added that 'significant changes' had been made to the way patients were treated and the operation she had was no longer offered.

[matan4il]

Not to add to the debate, but well sorry I kind of am. But on your points about the donor storyline, my thing is yes, like they are unsympathetic as people asking for this. Not because they are straight, but because their logic is weird. They obviously have the money, and they don't really know Buck, (the whole nature vs. nurture thing). Would Buck be this Buck if there was no Daniel? He was the chosen one and raised as such without Maddie falling into her role? Plus, they act like vultures about the whole thing. The whole aspect of it is wrong. I would have preferred if it was even an old girl, Buck dated, who now has a wife. At least we could get bi hints.

But also it sort of runs against future storyline I would love for Buddie when they go Canon. I mean we all realize it is harder and will be more expensive when it is 2 gay men, that is just a fact. Of course I love the idea of them adopting but also I would kill for any scenario that involves, Maddies egg/Eddie's sperm, Bucks sperm/Eddie's sisters egg and someone carrying it. There are just all sorts of amazing possibilities we could get that tell the real story of gay men who want to be fathers and the financial cost but also the insecurities about being chosen if you try adopting.

Sorry for the ramble but I guess I was just stating for myself it is a watered down generic story that one day I pictured for real for Buddie.

Also, weirdly though, fun fact. I grew up in San Diego. Like 8 years ago, my best friend found out her dad fathered a kid no one knew about. But the weird thing was that when we were in high school, he worked at the stables we used to ride at. Like, we actually met him as just a guy!! I'm like, dude, you could have dated your brother lol!!! That's all I keep seeing is Bucks' future child meeting his bio child and kissing🤣😂🤣

Hi Nonnie, thank you for this ask!

Oh, you know what? Whether in the context of the sperm donor storyline or otherwise, I would actually REALLY love for an ex gf of Buck's to return and turn out to be married to a woman. It could be one of those potential storylines for Buck listening to her and maybe realizing a few things about himself and Eddie. ;)

I hear everything you say! I honestly don't mind which way Buddie would go about it, I just want the story shown of how a same sex gay couple goes about deciding on and fighting for their right to be parents. It's STILL not a given right in way too many places, and where it is, it requires SO MUCH, it's a story deserving of being told. And considering how much drama is involved in it, how many emotions, how much it can test a couple, but also bring them together and showing them fighting as one for a common goal, it actually does NOT makes sense to me that it's so underrepresented in media. Which makes me suspect that's due to a great degree to ignorance. And shouldn't we strive for queer rep to tear it down?

I think your penultimate paragraph summarizes perfectly a big part of how I feel about this storyline. Thank you for that!

(also, yikes about your friend's dad! That could not have been easy in any way whatsoever...)

Have a great day, lovely! As always, here's my ask tag! xoxox

[jungkookandyugyeomwhores]

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[privmu]

FLORES

PARENT NAMES: Emilia and Louisa Flores

HOMETOWN: San Diego, California

PATTERNS: None

OTHER: Technically all of the Flores kids are half-siblings, as Emilia and Louisa used the same sperm donor but each donated eggs to their children.

Background

The Flores family consists of Emilia and Louisa, two women who fell in love in a way that truly came right out of a romance novel. Emilia was a young novelist who knew that she wanted to write the next great romance series, and she did. In the early 2000s, the Rockford series was known as the ultimate guilty pleasure period novels, with dashing dukes and a mysterious gossip columnist. Emilia met Louisa when the novels were first being published, as Louisa worked in PR for the publishing house. The Rockford novels became a smash hit when Netflix picked them up as a TV series, and it’s been the TV show that has catapulted Emilia into a very solid and stable career. Louisa is still working at Penguin Publishing. They have four children, two are biologically Emilia’s and two are biologically Louisa’s. They’ve used the same sperm donor for all four children, so they’re all technically half siblings. Emilia and Louisa have been having a rough patch and are currently in couple’s counseling. They are considering separating, but have been trying to reconcile for the sake of their family.

conditions for expansion:

Just chat with the current members!

[mypositiveoutlooks]

A couple who struggled with decade-long infertility writes a moving letter to their egg donor

An egg donor received a heartfelt letter from the family who received her egg, stating that her donation leaves “an indelible mark” on their lives. The letter shared a decade-long struggle with infertility and miscarriages, but finding their egg donor’s profile gave the couple knew “it was meant to be.” Fan Yang of YourEggs in San Diego was moved by the letter, appreciating the heartfelt…

[thedepressedweasel]

My DNA contributors just decided that they want to go to San Diego for five days this upcoming summer. Then my egg donor tried to make me come with them, but the moment she tried, I started flashbacking to that one time when they dragged my then 17 1/2-year-old ass with them by car to San Diego for my abusive former friend's wedding at the time in addition to forcibly dragging me to that one Hot Topic-free strip mall with the intention of buying me a fuck ton of girly clothes against my will and abusing me in public for naturally refusing. They literally dragged me into the guess boutique and forced me to try on those two camis with built-in bras in them and when I said that I didn't like them and that they were too tight on me, my DNA contributors got mad and started abusing me because they liked those camis so much that they didn't even care that they were too tight on me. So they bought them anyway. Then when we walked out of the guess boutique and she saw that one of my fingers was touching her teardrop-shaped ametrine ring, she grabbed my hand and twisted it, after which she started hitting me in the middle of that stupid strip mall while my sperm donor just stood there and screamed at me that I would pay for it and that they would send me to the mental hospital where they knew I could be physically and sexually assaulted there. Cue Starbucks, where they still continued to take turns screaming in my face for purely existing. Then when we got into the car, they started blasting this horrible Eurotrash music and forced me to listen to it against my will, even screaming at me for even politely asking them to turn it off. Then when we came back to our hotel room at the time, they forced me tow wear one of those camis, the black one, in addition to a pair of capris for my former friend's wedding rehearsal dinner at the time and when I said that I didn't want to wear it, they screamed at me again, even saying among the lines of "Well, God gave us a girl and you will act like it!" Then they forced me to play happy family as soon as we arrived there.

So, I said "no" because I did not want to risk getting myself traumatized ever again!

[fertilityinstituteca]

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[rsmcfertility-blog]

Egg Donation San Diego

Looking for egg donation in San Diego? We are always looking for bright, interesting, young women to join our egg donor program. If you are interested in donating your eggs then understand egg donation requirements which you must meet to qualify. For this you must consult your fertility expert.

[ivfspecialists-blog]

Using donor eggs for fertility procedures have become common and acceptable in mos cases, owing to the success rates and more. With numerous facilities for donor egg in San Diego available to help both donors and recipients, one needn’t worry about how to find one when they are in need. Read more on blog.

[coastalfertility-blog]

Egg Donor IVF is a fertility solution or treatment option for those who can’t use their own eggs because of infertility. Donor Egg IVF can be used for women who have a healthy uterus, but who either have no eggs (women with early menopause or history of surgical removal) or eggs that have not responded to medications or IVF. If you need any help or further guidance on using an egg donor as a fertility solution or related to any kind of consultation do not hesitate to reach out to Coastal Fertility Irvine at 949-726-0600.

[jungkookandyugyeomwhores]

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[eggdonoragency]

Choosing a Good and Reliable Egg Donor Agency Is Vital - https://eggdonoragency.net

Find Us On Google Map : https://goo.gl/maps/PF6d3n2ZeWFo2zzC7

Each person's situation is different, so it's important to know your options before you start thinking about donating eggs. Our Egg donor Agency San Diego can help you identify an egg donor candidate and coordinate the entire donation process in.

Egg Donor Agency Address : 402 W Broadway #401, San Diego, CA 92101, USA Phone  : +16193048950

Our Profile : https://eggdonoragency.tumblr.com

Next Video : https://bit.ly/3zDtpFp

[lilsdesk]

Navigating Parenthood A Guide to San Diego Fertility Center

A Guide to San Diego Fertility Center offers a comprehensive resource for individuals and couples on their journey to parenthood. This guide provides insights into the services, expertise, and compassionate care provided by, a leading institution in reproductive medicine. From fertility evaluations and assisted reproductive technologies to donor options and LGBTQ+ family building, offers a range of comprehensive solutions tailored to individual needs. With a focus on innovation, research, and patient-centered care, this guide highlights the center's commitment to helping individuals and couples achieve their dream of parenthood. Whether facing infertility challenges or exploring alternative paths to conception,  provides the support and expertise needed to navigate the complexities of the fertility journey with confidence.

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The San Diego Fertility Center is a renowned fertility clinic dedicated to helping individuals and couples achieve their dream of parenthood. Located in the vibrant city of San Diego, this center offers a wide range of fertility treatments and services tailored to meet the unique needs of each patient. Whether you're exploring options for conception or seeking advanced reproductive technologies, it  provides compassionate care and state-of-the-art treatments to support you on your journey to parenthood.

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Patients have access to the latest advancements in reproductive medicine. From basic fertility evaluations to complex procedures such as in vitro fertilization (IVF), preimplantation genetic testing (PGT), and egg freezing, the center offers a comprehensive range of fertility treatments to address various reproductive challenges. The experienced team of fertility specialists at the San Diego Fertility Center utilizes cutting-edge technologies and innovative techniques to maximize success rates and help patients achieve their family-building goals.

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What sets the San Diego Fertility Center apart is its commitment to providing personalized care and creating a supportive environment for patients. The team of fertility experts takes the time to understand each patient's medical history, lifestyle factors, and emotional needs, tailoring treatment plans accordingly. Whether you're undergoing fertility testing, fertility preservation, or fertility treatment.

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Description: In addition to medical interventions, the San Diego Fertility Center emphasizes the importance of holistic fertility wellness. The center offers complementary therapies such as acupuncture, nutritional counseling, and mind-body programs to optimize reproductive health and enhance overall well-being. By addressing the physical, emotional, and spiritual aspects of fertility, it takes a comprehensive approach to helping patients achieve successful outcomes and build healthy families.

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Building a supportive community and providing educational resources are integral parts of the San Diego Fertility Center's mission. The center hosts support groups, educational seminars, and online forums where patients can connect with others facing similar challenges and share their experiences. Additionally, the center offers a wealth of educational resources, including articles, videos, and FAQs, to empower patients with knowledge and information about fertility treatments and reproductive health.

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Over the years, the San Diego Fertility Center has helped numerous individuals and couples realize their dreams of parenthood. Through the center's success stories and patient testimonials, prospective patients can gain insight into the compassionate care and exceptional outcomes that define the our experience. From overcoming infertility obstacles to celebrating pregnancy and childbirth, these inspiring stories highlight the transformative impact of fertility treatments and the supportive environment provided by the center.

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Description: If you're ready to take the first step toward parenthood, the San Diego Fertility Center is here to help you navigate your fertility journey with compassion, expertise, and personalized care. Whether you're seeking fertility testing, exploring treatment options, or considering alternative family-building paths, the experienced team at the  our Center is committed to supporting you every step of the way. Contact the center today to schedule a consultation and begin your path to parenthood with confidence.

conclusion 

A Guide to San Diego Fertility Center" serves as a beacon of hope and empowerment for individuals and couples embarking on the journey to parenthood. Through this comprehensive guide, San Diego Fertility Center provides invaluable insights into the world of reproductive medicine, offering a range of innovative treatments and compassionate support services. With a commitment to personalized care and cutting-edge technologies, the center empowers patients to overcome fertility challenges and realize their dreams of building a family. By partnering with San Diego Fertility Center.

[bountyofbeads]

Their Mothers Chose Donor Sperm. The Doctors Used Their Own. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/08/21/health/sperm-donors-fraud-doctors.html

Their Mothers Chose Donor Sperm. The Doctors Used Their Own.

Scores of children born through artificial insemination have learned from DNA tests that their biological fathers were the doctors who performed the procedure.

By Jacqueline Mroz | Published August 21, 2019 Updated 3:47 p.m. ET | New York Times | Posted August 21, 2019 4:36 PM ET |

Growing up in Nacogdoches, Tex., Eve Wiley learned at age 16 that she had been conceived through artificial insemination with donor sperm.

Her mother, Margo Williams, now 65, had sought help from Dr. Kim McMorries, telling him that her husband was infertile. She asked the doctor to locate a sperm donor. He told Mrs. Williams that he had found one through a sperm bank in California.

Mrs. Williams gave birth to a daughter, Eve. Now 32, Mrs. Wiley is a stay-at-home mother in Dallas. In 2017 and 2018, like tens of millions of Americans, she took consumer DNA tests.

The results? Her biological father was not a sperm donor in California, as she had been told — Dr. McMorries was. The news left Ms. Wiley reeling.

“You build your whole life on your genetic identity, and that’s the foundation,” Ms. Wiley said. “But when those bottom bricks have been removed or altered, it can be devastating.”

Through his attorney and the staff at his office, Dr. McMorries declined to comment.

With the advent of widespread consumer DNA testing, instances in which fertility specialists decades ago secretly used their own sperm for artificial insemination have begun to surface with some regularity. Three states have now passed laws criminalizing this conduct, including Texas, which now defines it as a form of sexual assault.

Dr. Jody Madeira, a law professor at Indiana University, is following more than 20 cases in the United States and abroad. They have occurred in a dozen states, including Connecticut, Vermont, Idaho, Utah and Nevada, she said, as well as in England, South Africa, Germany and the Netherlands.

According to the Dutch Donor Child Foundation, DNA testing has confirmed that a fertility specialist, Dr. Jan Karbaat, fathered 56 children, born to women who visited his clinic outside Rotterdam. Dutch authorities closed his practice in 2009, and he died in April 2017 at age 89.

An attorney for Dr. Karbaat’s family said they had no comment on the allegations and emphasized that the cases are decades old.

“Thirty years ago, people looked at things in very different ways,” said J.P. Vandervoodt, a lawyer in Rotterdam. “Dr. Karbaat could have been an anonymous donor — we don’t know that. There was no registration system at the time.”

In June, the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario revoked the license of a fertility specialist in Ottawa, Dr. Norman Barwin, 80, and reprimanded him for repeatedly using the wrong sperm — including his own — in artificial insemination procedures over decades.

The college found that he had inseminated at least 11 women with his own sperm. In addition, scores of donor children claim they were conceived with the wrong sperm at Dr. Barwin’s clinic, though not the doctor’s.

He told one woman that he had used his sperm to calibrate a clinic instrument and that this contamination explained her conception. The college called that unbelievable and his actions “beyond reprehensible.”

“His actions will continue to have repercussions for his patients and their families in perpetuity,” said Carolyn Silver, general counsel at the college.

Dr. Barwin and his lawyers did not return calls for comment.

In the past, patients had little reason to suspect fertility doctors to whom they had entrusted one of medicine’s most intimate tasks, said Dov Fox, a bioethicist at the University of San Diego and the author of “Birth Rights and Wrongs,” a book about technology and reproductive law.

“In a word, gross,” he said of the cases. “In a couple more: shocking, shameful. The number of doctors sounds less like a few bad apples and more like a generalized practice of deception, largely hidden until recently by a mix of low-tech and high stigma.”

Fertility fraud

Dr. Donald Cline, a fertility specialist in Indianapolis, used his own sperm to impregnate at least three dozen women in the 1970s and 1980s, according to state prosecutors. Based on DNA testing, 61 people now claim he is their biological father.

Dr. Cline, who retired in 2009, pleaded guilty to two felony obstruction of justice charges and admitted that he had lied to state investigators. He surrendered his medical license and was given a one-year suspended sentence.

Calls to Dr. Cline’s lawyer were not returned.

Prosecutors said they were not able to press for a tougher sentence for a simple reason: In Indiana, as in most states, there were no laws prohibiting this conduct.

In May, Indiana passed a law that makes using the wrong sperm a felony and gives victims the right to sue doctors for it. Patients may sidestep the statute of limitations in these cases, bringing legal action up to five years after the fraud is discovered, rather than after it took place.

That provision is significant to accusers, because those who discover the identity of their biological fathers in these cases are usually adults.

Cases of so-called fertility fraud have prompted other states to enact similar laws that allow patients and children to pursue legal remedies from so-called doctor daddies.

After discovering the identity of her biological father, Ms. Wiley pressed for a similar law in Texas, meeting with legislators to demand better accountability of what she saw to be a grossly unregulated industry.

In June, Texas passed its own fertility-fraud law, and it goes further than those in Indiana and California. If a health care provider uses human sperm, eggs or embryos from an unauthorized donor, the law identifies the crime as a sexual assault. Those found guilty must register as sex offenders.

The bill passed unanimously in the state Legislature.

“It was a very compelling story of deception, and we’re seeing more and more cases of assisted reproduction being used improperly,” Stephanie Klick, a Republican state representative and a sponsor of the bill, said of Ms. Wiley’s experience. “We need to make sure that what happened doesn’t happen again.”

Some experts believe the measure is extreme. “Sexual assault is a step too far,” said Judith Daar, dean of the Chase College of Law at Northern Kentucky University. “Using that language, and imposing the ramifications that assault imposes, is highly problematic and more harmful than helpful.”

The Texas law applies when a health care provider uses his own sperm or the sperm of a donor other than the one the patient selected. But could a doctor or clinic nurse be convicted of sexual assault if the wrong sperm were provided in a mix-up?

“If a physician is rushed and inattentive, and grabs the wrong vial, a jury might find that the physician knew or should have known that the material was not what the patient selected,” said Ms. Daar, who leads the ethics committee of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine.

If a simple mix-up could result in conviction as a sexual predator, she fears fertility doctors in Texas may stop practicing.

Ms. Klick, the Texas legislator and a nurse, believes that this form of deception does constitute assault.

“There’s a physical aspect to it — there is a medical device that is being used to penetrate these women to deliver the genetic material,” she said. “I equate it with rape, because there’s no consent.”

“It’s creepy,” she added. “It violates so many different boundaries on a professional level.”

Doctor knows best?

A few years ago, Marenda Tucker, 36, took a DNA test to find out more about her heritage.

Ms. Tucker, a mother of four, who lives in Oregon, knew that she had been born through sperm donation. According to her mother, the doctor said he had used an anonymous sperm donor from the South.

The DNA test matched her to relatives of the doctor himself. “Once I had the matches, I realized it was the doctor, and I was like, yuck, gross,” she said. “When I talked to my mom about it, she felt violated.”

“Until now, I’ve been able to handle what life has thrown at me,” she added. “But this was this weird identity crisis.”

Reached by phone by a reporter at his home in Little Rock, Ark., with questions about Ms. Tucker’s conception, the retired physician, Dr. Gary Don Davis, said: “Well, that’s surprising. Let me check on that. Goodbye.”

Further attempts to reach him were unsuccessful, and he died in June.

Why would doctors secretly substitute their sperm for that of a donor, or even a husband?

Dr. Madeira, the law professor who has been tracking many of these cases, said that some specialists may simply have thought it was smart business. Frozen sperm was not the recommended medical standard until the late 1980s, and many physicians may not have had ready access to sperm when patients sought help.

“They could have self-justified their malfeasance in an era of ‘doctor knows best,’” Dr. Madeira said. “In their minds, they may just have been helping their patients by increasing their chances of getting pregnant with fresh sperm for higher fertilization rates.”

But others, she speculated, may have had darker motivations. “I would bet a lot of these doctors had power reasons for doing this — mental health issues, narcissistic issues — or maybe they were attracted to certain women,” she said.

Confronted with the test results, Dr. McMorries acknowledged in a letter to Ms. Wiley that he had mixed his sperm with that of other donors in order to improve her mother’s chances of conception. Laws regarding “donor anonymity” prevented him from telling her, he wrote.

“The thinking at that time was that if the patient got pregnant, there was no way to know which sperm affected the conception,” he wrote.

Before the doctor’s confession, Ms. Wiley believed she had already found the man who donated the sperm from which she was conceived: Steve Scholl, now 65, a writer and publisher in Los Angeles.

“We started this beautiful father-daughter relationship — he officiated at my wedding,” she said. “My kids call him Poppa.”

After learning the truth, she told Mr. Scholl that she wasn’t his biological daughter. He was stunned.

“It took me a while to process,” he recalled in an interview. “We felt so much like we’d found each other. We didn’t know how the reproductive industry worked. But very quickly, we both decided not to let this change anything for us.”

Ms. Wiley still calls him Dad.

[rapunzel-withthegoodhair]

City & Ghost

pairing: shawn mendes x ofc (narrated second person, reader) summary: maybe he shouldn’t call you. but maybe you shouldn’t pick up.  playlist: listen while reading rating: pg-13 (alcohol abuse, swearing, infidelity, older female/younger male, etc)  word count: 5639 status: complete / one-shot

author’s notes: just for clarification, my ofc is 27 in this story to shawn’s 20. not an impossibly crazy difference but enough to throw some hurdles in (especially since she’s married). click the ofc link for more info about Holland :) 

I look in the mirror past the buildings, The sky’s getting light Another piece of my innocence Is the admission I paid there tonight Though it makes me sick, and I imagine her saying “You’re better than this…”

                                                        ///

Nine minutes after midnight and your phone nearly vibrates right off the kitchen counter.

He’s got his own ringtone so you know when it’s safe to answer. The rational part of your brain says, ‘Damn girl just block his number. Have some mercy on the boy. Let him move on. Force him to move on.’ Only one problem with that…you’re weak for him too.

It doesn’t matter tonight though. Alec is in San Diego and the only person you’re cleaning up after is yourself.

“Hey…” It’s all you can think of to say. Maybe you should applaud him for the whole month he took this time in between calls. Maybe you would, if it hadn’t been excruciating. If your stomach wasn’t doing swimmer’s backflips over having him reach out for you again.

“I miss you.” You know immediately that he’s wasted out of his mind. ‘Isn’t he always?’ Your mind echos back. It’s an unfair statement, because he’s only 20 and he’s on tour and why would he call you sober. But lately it’s a little too true.

“I miss you too, baby boy…” God, you wish the words were a lie, dripping from your lips only for his sake. But they’re not. There’s a rusty metal ache in your skin that’s almost too much at times. Like a hangover no pill will fix. “Yeah?” Doubt is strung up in his voice like christmas lights. It’s been so long, he doesn’t believe you. Not anymore. It’s like a knife slashed across your ribs to hear him hurt, knowing you’re the reason why. “What do you miss?”

Your teeth tug at your lip. You should not be having this conversation. You should not be lighting that flame in his heart again. But fuck, it’s such a relief to confess the words to someone. Anyone. Even if it’s just him.

“I miss…waking up at four am to you playing piano.” That morning comes back to you with stunning clarity. He’d tried so hard to be quiet, but his inspiration had been a hungry mistress,  sinking her teeth too deeply into that beautiful skin to be ignored. You’d never been able to find any anger or annoyance in your heart over it though, despite the sleep lost.

                                                       ///

You thought Alec’s snoring was annoying. But apparently, Shawn just doesn’t sleep at all.

It’s a little worrisome. Friday night, the non-profit you work for had hosted a charity Gala. Not only had Shawn played at the event, but the next day he’d shown up at the high-profile, private meet and greet that had been offered as an incentive for ‘diamond tier’ donors, (so they could bring their rich little brats to ooh and ahh over him as well). And later that evening he’s scheduled to play Allstate Stadium. He needs to rest. But for the second night in a row, you’re waking up to piano notes being plucked from the stars while Chicago still sleeps.

You barely know him. Only met him at the Gala. But you don’t know how to cut him loose and your husband is in Houston; won’t be home until Monday night.

You’re madly in love with Alec. Never would’ve married him if it weren’t true (not that the money hurts…). Loyalty has never been a question in the past. Just the thought of another man touching you has always turned your stomach. But…Shawn needs you. And maybe you need him too. Not because anything has been missing. But because your light refuses to turn away from his. It’s instinctual. Something beyond choice or reason.

Leaning in the corridor entryway, you watch his body shift along to the music he’s creating. His strong shoulders beat out a rhythm in lieu of drums. He’s singing so softly and you can tell it’s tearing him apart just a little. To try and keep the beast of raw creativity that beats inside him on a leash.

And I won’t be a product of my genre My mind will always be stronger than my songs are Never believe the bullshit that fake guys feed to ya Always read the stories that you hear on Wikipedia And musically I’m demonstrating When I perform live, feels like I am meditating

Wandering across the living room, you can’t help the smile tugging at your mouth. He’s so fucking beautiful. And it’s not his pale, milky skin. Or his adorable curls. Or even those sexy brown eyes. It’s not his tight abs or his thick arms or his strong back. It’s the light that pours out of him, like a cup running over. The passion for music and life rattling through him like a wooden-track roller coaster. The raw, unbroken way he still looks at the world and smiles. Still feels hope. Still wants more. You’re not sure when you lost that light…but at twenty-six years old, you’re already terrified it might never come back. Maybe it’s that fear that makes it feel as if…walking away from him would be the end of you. Because this is the most alive you’ve felt in years.

You watch him and you wonder, ‘is this how Hades felt when he first saw Persephone…?’

Arms sliding over his shoulders and around his neck, you lean to kiss along his jaw and cheek. Grin when you feel his own smile, almost too wide for his pretty face, matching yours. Despite his happiness at your touch, you feel his muscles tense. He’s so used to being told who to be. Where to stand. What words to say. Which camera to smile into. He’s already bracing himself for the inevitable. Already waiting for you to tell him to keep it down. To go back to sleep.

“Sing it louder, baby.” You whisper into his ear, still smiling hard as your arm stays draped across his chest. “We own the whole floor. Ain’t nobody gunna hear you but me.” You rarely let anyone hear your Kentucky accent. No one is supposed to know your tragic backstory. Not here in the city. Least of all, what’s sure to be a weekend fling with some teen heartthrob superstar you’ll never see again. But you can’t seem to help it. Around him, the refined lady you’ve worked so hard to become slides instinctively back into the Harlan County wildflower you grew up as.

His smile grows until his eyes nearly disappear and the boy leans to steal a soft kiss.

“You sure? S’four in the morning.” His chuckle is low in his chest as he nuzzles at your soft skin. Like a puppy reassuring himself is pack is still there. “Don’t wanna annoy you ‘n get kicked out.”

Shaking your head slowly, your hands gently tip his head back. Dust a kiss to his nose, then in between his eyes. Something about the way he relaxes so completely in your arms, his features euphorically neutral as if he’s just spent a day at the spa, making you feel as if you hung the damn sun in the sky.

“Wanna hear you fuck that shit up.” You flash him a wide smile that he returns without hesitation. Scritching at his hair playfully, you head to the kitchen. He’s been in your line of vision for nearly 48 hours and you’ve hardly seen him eat a thing. But not here, not on your watch. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

I’m still the same as a year ago But more people hear me though According to the myspace and youtube videos I’m always doing shows, if I’m not I’m in the studio Truly broke, never growing up call me Ruffio Melody music maker Reading all the papers They say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator ‘Cause you need me, man, I don’t need you

The Ed Sheeran song sounds good like this. Slowed down and smokey wrapped up in his tired voice. The lyrics are cocky but his passion is too damn infectious, his talent too explosive, for it to come off as anything other than fun (besides, you think to yourself, what’s wrong with a little confidence if you can walk your talk?). Brewing a strong pot of coffee to share, you’d made a whole pan of  scrambled eggs with bacon. Watched him play until the sun was peeking out over Chicago’s skyline to greet you. Then cuddled on the couch as you fed him. Until his fatigue finally started winning rounds. He’d fallen asleep on top of you, his ribs on your stomach as your hand caressed up and down along his spine. Humming softly in his ear, your eyes drifted back to the piano.  

You’d never cared about that stupid grand, had been annoyed at Alec just for buying the overpriced centerpiece to your penthouse living room when neither of knew how to play. It had sat there, doing nothing but collecting dust and looking pretentious. Until it came to life under Shawn’s fingers. Just like you…                                                       ///

“Hmm…wrote a good song on that beauty.” You can’t help but smile at the sound of his own smirk. Every atom in your body had screamed at you not to listen when his new album had dropped. But you had anyway. And your heart had slammed into your chest when you’d heard the chords he’d composed hidden behind your walls first.

“Yeah, you did… proud’a you, you know.”

A long pause follows and you think you hear him swallow. Maybe he doesn’t know…

“Say it again?”

Eyes falling closed, a quiver shakes your bottom lip as you fight the tears. God, he sounds so broken. Over the past year, you’ve spent…maybe nineteen or twenty days together in total. Every time you tell yourself it’s the last time. But then he calls… and you love Alec so fucking much… but…

“I’m so fucking proud of you, baby. I mean it. There’s too much damn talent burnin’ through you. Watching you perform is like… watching a meteor shower.”

Quiet again. But this time the background clinking of glass on glass seems to suggest he’s doing his best to fight off the creeping edges of sobriety. You can just picture him in the dark of his hotel suite, curtains drawn so he can see the city lights. Still wearing whatever he went out in after his show. Hands shaking as he pours himself another round from the mini bar.    

“If you went out onto the roof right now…could you see the stars?” Lord, he’s so drunk. He grew up near enough to a city. He should remember damn well you can’t see the stars uptown.

Leaning over a bit to scratch your leg, you chew at your lip. You know where he’s going with this. You’re still pathetic enough to want to fall down the rabbit hole.

“Probably not. City’s the same as it ever was…”  

“Oh…yeah.” Disappointment drags his voice down into the gutter. “Would you go out anyway? We could just… be under the same sky?”

You’re not sure that’s how it works. According to the pictures on Instagram, he’s in Miami. You’re in the Midwest. Technically, you’d be staring out at two different expanses of space. But you’d do anything for him. And the lie sounds so sweet.

“Course, baby. Always.” Standing, you move to grab a sweater and some shoes. Then cross the room to the penthouse elevator that leads to the roof. That’s yours as well and you’d been in charge of its renovation when Alec bought the place. A small garden sits up there, along with a modest pool and stone fire pit. The accent features play host to the ghosts you try not to look in the eye. But walking outside invites them in like a séance.

                                                      ///

Your hand is in his dragging him up the stairs. Sure you could take the penthouse elevator, but racing down the hall and then up the maintenance stairwell is more fun. The door bursts open and the wind blows you around a bit, your own inertia sending you both spinning until you nearly fall over.

“And this! Is my pride ‘n joy. I designed all this. The garden ‘n the pool. Firepit.” He stands behind you, arms around your shoulders, kissing your cheek as you point out each feature. In the distance, Lake Michigan glints under a breathlessly breezy summer day.

You had planned out the roof carefully. Each feature exists in its own space and yet in harmony with the others. You enjoy showing the place off. All your friends have sexy, sleek uptown apartments. None of them have anything this unique. This tangible and sensory driven. Every new set of eyes laid on the place always mindlessly ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s over the space. If they’re feeling extra obnoxious, they might throw out a few technical design terms they picked up from HGTV. You expect Shawn to do the same.

But somehow, he sees the puzzle. Puts the pieces together quicker than anyone else.

“Earth, water, fire… I guess Lake Michigan takes care of the wind.”

“Clever boy.”  Impressed, you match his smile and slowly nod. Absently, your fingers toy with his much longer ones and your head rests back against his chest as both of you take in the city. “I guess those things have always felt the most real to me. The five elements.”

“Five?”

“Mm,” You tug on your lip, trying to remember how elegantly your grandmother had explained it. “Element of spirit. None of it means anything if it’s not alive. It’s the energy we borrow from the universe that allows any of the elements to connect. To borrow from one another. Feed one another. Find one another. Love one another.”

“So…up here….you’re the spirit element?”

Your head quirks and you turn in his arms. Quiet surprise hangs in the air between you for a long string of moments…before your arms finally curl around him. Tilting your head back, you scritch your nails lightly, affectionately across his back. A smile slowly pulls at your lips.

“How’d you figure that out, pretty boy?” It’s overwhelming enough that he’s so beautiful. So full of life. Bursting at the seams with talent and passion. Confusingly good. And so disarmingly vulnerable. The fact that he also understands you effortlessly is near impossible to wrap your head around.

A shrug falls from his broad shoulders and he nuzzles at your nose. He has the best view in Chicago to feast on, but his focus is locked on you. Fingertips brushing down your cheek, they slide up into your hair. In an attempt to curb the game of twister Chicago’s wind is playing with it, his fingers curl around the long strands gently, then fist just enough to clasp it all in place. You’re forced to stand closer to him as a side effect, but you’ve suffered far worse.

“That’s so beautiful. That you refuse to let the city take that away from you.” It’s the first time anyone has seen through your ‘perfectly manicured uptown midwestern wife’ charade. The first time anyone’s suspected that maybe there’s still some part of you bucking against the saddle. Alec has always taken care of you. But Shawn is in your blood, undressing your soul instead of just your body.

Reaching up to grip his neck, you pull him down into a warm, deep kiss. Push open his hoodie and rest your body against his. How the hell he’d sorted the secret language of you was still a mystery. But that was the moment you knew you loved him.

                                                      ///

“You know I’m gunna be in Chicago next week…” “Are you?” The sirens go off in your brain as you lean against the cement edge of your rooftop. ‘Absolutely not. You need to leave him alone.’ This isn’t even about staying loyal to Alec. Shawn deserves everything you can’t give him. Deserves a girl his own age. Someone who is available to anoint him in love every minute of every day like it’s holy oil and she’s his priestess. Keeping him stitched into your bone marrow is thievery. You’re stealing time he should be spending happy, with some pretty young thing as full to bursting with energy as he is.

“You still in the city?” “Yes, love. I’m right here, hmm? Same place you left me.” You feel like an undergrad at Northwestern all over again, listening to your drunk friends ramble in nonsensical circles as they stumble back towards sobriety.

“Didn’t leave you…” He’s pouting like a puppy, but your voice stays even and gentle. Patient as ever. Maybe the one advantage your age gives you with him is maturity. What might stir up a fight with a hormonal teenager, is just another chance to soothe him for you.

“You know that’s not what I meant, sweet boy. I know you’d never leave me. Not… not really.” What the fuck is wrong with you? How long is it going to be until this story shows up in the headlines. Before everyone else sees just how sick and cruel and pathetic you really are.

“I wanna see you. Tell me I can see you.” You hear a sliding glass door open and wind hits the receiver in small gusts. He’s always been a sucker for a balcony. You’re fairly certain he can’t see the stars either, but you’re almost certain you hear ocean waves in the distance. 

“Baby…” One little word. You don’t mean for it to sound so loaded.

“You don’t want to? …Say it out loud then. Tell me you don’t want to see me and I’ll leave you alone.” There goes that pride again, trying to eat him whole from the inside out. He’s the sweetest boy in the world. But every now and then, when he’s stressed and lonely and drunk, his insecurities swim in his blood like piranhas.

Slowly, you drag in a breath. He can’t possibly understand all the ways this is wrong. On fire with his own youth, he knows nothing but chasing desire. Burning regret to the ground as if feeling alive is his only religion.

“S’nothing to do with want, baby. Always want you.”

It takes a few moments of silence but he finally circles back. The edge has left his voice (he’s never known how to be an asshole for more than 10 seconds at a time) but he’s still stubborn as always.

“I know it’s not Alec. I know you don’t love him more.”

“But I do love him.”

“Not enough to quit me.”

His words are a slap to the face and sting just the same. Swallowing, you fight all the instincts you learned from your mother. Lashing out (Oh, grow up and make your own mind up then. You’re twenty not five). Deflecting (you’re the one who called me). Jabbing at weak spots he was vulnerable enough only with you to show (aren’t there a million other girls who’d come clean you up right now? Or boys?). As guilty as the age difference makes you feel… you’re thankful you didn’t meet him when you were twenty. What a disgustingly toxic mess that would’ve been.

Dragging in a deep breath, you rub at your temple. Remind yourself he doesn’t mean it as harsh as it sounds. That he’s just hurt and wasted and trying to prove a point.

“You gunna hold it against me that I’m weak for you too?” You hope he can hear the slight pout in your sad, soft voice. He must, because you can feel the sobriety sweep over him for a moment. Like heavy rain sweeping down into a valley.

“Then what the hell is it Holland?” The sigh falls off his lips more tired, more defeated than angry.

Sometimes, if you drink a little too much wine and think about it a little too long, this shit with him still breaks you down into tears. Sometimes you don’t know why. Your own husband has a whole decade on you. So why is Shawn’s seven years younger always giving you so much grief?

“I have no right to love you…”

“…I don’t understand what that means. Please don’t be self-righteous right now. You don’t… you don’t understand how hard this is without you. You have no idea how fucking… messed up I feel all the time.”

But you do. It’s how you two met.

                                                      ///

Each long evening gown that walks into the charity gala sparkles like a disco ball. The kitchen is buzzing with the refilling of trays and the fizzing of champagne. The donations are pouring in so fast, the attendants can hardly keep up with receipts. And, as usual, you are the spinning wheel of fortunes at the center keeping it all perfectly on track. St. Christopher’s is the largest non-profit foundation in the Midwest. Over the past six years, you’ve diligently worked your way up from undergrad intern to the Publicity Chair’s Executive Assistant. It doesn’t sound exciting but in the heart of a city as busy as yours, you’re essentially party planning for the elite. And honestly…it’s everything you ever wanted. Hell, this whole pop star performing at the Gala thing was your idea. Browsing the Allstate Arena’s schedule last year had led you to Shawn Mendes. Not for any particular reason other than the dates matched up nicely. He’d be in town for a show anyway and likely had the star power to generate enough interest. So you reached out.

Well, not to Shawn personally. Just his PR manager. But still, he’d agreed happily to stop by and you couldn’t be happier with how well he was working the crowd now. Taking pictures, signing autographs, navigating overpersonal questions with an impressively charming diplomacy. If he wasn’t already wildly successful at music, you’d have offered him a job on your team.

Dinner is served right on time, but neither you nor the night’s golden boy get to sit down or eat. You’re checking that dessert is being plated up in the kitchen and that trash is being rotated out fast enough. He’s up on stage, performing a few of his latest hits with his band. You’ve never heard his music before. Pop kind of isn’t your thing. The bluesy rock/folk you listen to is perhaps one of the last remaining hints that could give away your true roots as the granddaughter of a Kentucky coal miner.   

Aren’t you shocked when you march out of the kitchen, only to find him spilling his guts up on stage. A guitar crying in his hands, a microphone his voice is all but making love to. No pop in sight. Your steps slow to a dead stop. The guitar in his hands bleeds out a euphoric set of chords that break open your ribs and pool in your chest.

Nothing physically has changed. He’s still the same, tall dark and handsome kid that walked in two hours ago. No, the change is all you. You’ve woken up. You can see his cracks and all the light pouring out of them. As if he’s holding a nursery of stars inside his chest and their fire is barely contained.  

The powerhouse performance disarms your heart, shatters it into a million little pieces. But looking around, you can see… it’s not going over quite so well on the rich upper class of Chicago. This just isn’t their style. Most of them really only came for the signed photos they plan on giving to their spoiled ass children. And he’s used to working a crowd of teenage girls who hang on his every word. You can see his confidence faltering a bit. Hear his voice backing off from attempting to hit the harder notes. By the time the two-song set ends, he barely gets out a slightly shaky ‘thank you’ to respectful applause before he’s nearly bolted off the stage.

Maybe it’s a dumb idea to walk backstage right now. To check the kitchen and then the green room and then the men’s bathroom. You’re not meant to chase the deer once it runs from the headlights. And this isn’t just a party. You’re at work.

The excuses go on and on in your head. Rationalizing. Criticizing. But your steps continue down the hotel hallway once they’ve cleared the grand ballroom. There’s only so many rooms he could’ve ducked into and most of them are locked, with signs reading ‘employees only’. Your golden, satin ballgown billows behind you as you chase his trail. You couldn’t possibly have lost him. What’d he do? Book a room upstairs and check-in before you’d even gone searching?

Finally, you reach the entrance to the hotel pool. The gym. He’s not in any of those and this is where the hallway ends…What the hell? Head foggy with confusion and stomach turning with worry, you slowly circle back. You checked every single open door, didn’t you?

Suddenly, your adrenaline sharpened focus snags on a door you hadn’t noticed before. The family bathroom closer to the lobby. It’s nearly 10pm. No one will need to use this right now. You gotta hand it to him. Kid’s a genius.   

You find him sitting on the floor, shaking and sweating. Flushed and barely breathing. The sight of you seems to only make it worse and for a moment he tries hard to scramble up on his feet.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I’ll…I’ll be right…right out…” God, he must think you’re here to drag him back. Seeing how unsteady his long legs are, you reach out and grip his arms.

“Hey…” Voice soft, you fight hard to regain your balance in your heels as his weight leans into you. Left without a choice, you slowly help him back to the floor. But this time, you ensure he’s sitting against the wall.

You suffered terrible bouts of anxiety before Alec. Therapy had never worked. The pills made you feel like a walking corpse. Your husband is the only thing that had truly gotten you through. It’s one of the things any marine learns. How to deal with stress at the most inconvenient times. How to pull someone out of their own head in seconds flat. Watching Shawn break down like this, it’s like holding yourself seven years ago and all you can think is that you want to be his Alec. Biting back tears, you fight to be strong for him as you pull one shaking, pale hand up to face your own.

“Can you name your fingers as I touch them?” His eyes fall from yours, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. He doesn’t know you. Not really. And you can see it in his eyes. The same doubt there was any hope you could truly handle this that you’d always felt. He’s honestly just hoping you’ll hurry up and get frustrated sooner rather than later. To just leave already so he can pick up these pieces on his own and not under the watchful eye of an older woman whose job is counting on him getting his shit back together. Very gently tipping his chin up so his eyes are forced back to yours, you touch your thumb to his own. “You know that, hmm? What’s the name of that finger?”

Your voice stays soft. Even and cool. Encouraging. The same river-bed voice your grandmother had used to comfort you before she’d died. Before you’d been left to fend for yourself against a manic-depressive, Oxy dependent mother. In all honesty, you’re a bit surprised. It’s been so long since your grandmother died and you had no idea you’d picked up the ability before now.

Slowly getting the breath back in his lungs, Shawn’s eyes find your hand and his. Seems to realize for the first time that he’s touching you.

“…Thumb…”  

A smile tugs at your mouth and you cup his cheek.

“Good. That’s so good.” Your pointer fingertip touches his own. “And this one?”

“P-pointer…” You nod and he follows each careful touch with a soft murmur. “Ring …index …p-pinky.”

Finding yourself proud of the boy, you flash him a smile. Lean to brush a kiss to his sweating temple. You can’t help but notice that his pupils, blown out a moment earlier, seem to be shrinking again. A good sign that he’s calming.

“That’s really good, love.” Shifting to sit down properly, you twine your fingers through his, hoping to give him an anchor.  “Can you tell me the color of my dress?”

He glances over. Swallows again. This one takes a little longer as his eyes trace the lines of the dress. He’s not stuck on the color. You can tell. He’s just trying to swim through a head flooded with adrenaline.

“Gold?”

“Mmhmm.” Squeezing his hand, you nod. “Close your eyes, sweetheart. Count three things you can hear.”

Resting his head back against the cool tile, he does as he’s told. Squeezes your hand after a moment to make sure you’re still there. Then finally focuses.

“H-hum of the AC…running water in the next bathroom…Phil Collins.” You both laugh softly at that. He’s not wrong. The hotel’s lobby loudspeaker system seems to reach even in here and you notice the song too now he’s said it.

Resting your own head back against the tile as well, you sing along softly under your breath. It’s not long before he’s doing the same, the distraction seeming to help.

You can tell from the lines on her face You can see that she’s been there Probably been moved on from every place Cause she didn’t fit in there Oh, think twice, 'cause another day For you and me in paradise

Turning to glance at him, you realize then there’s no getting him back into that ballroom. And honestly, you wouldn’t even want to. A switch in you has flipped. Work can wait. The influential elite of the city you’re trying to conquer can go fuck themselves. Nothing matters more to you right now than looking after him. You couldn’t explain where the all-consuming black hole came from. Or how it suddenly ripped open inside of you. It’s just there, undeniable and inescapable.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be, love?”

He shakes his head. Yawns and scoots closer. Suddenly, you wish he wasn’t so much bigger than yourself. Wish he was just the scared four-year old he looks like right now and you could scoop him up and wrap him in a blanket.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” You realize how it sounds the moment it jumps out of your lips. You’re sure a hundred girls must proposition him every day. Scared to freak him out further, you squeeze his hand and slowly help tug him up. “Just…you know, some food. A guest bed. Maybe just a few hours away from being ‘Shawn Mendes’?”

He gets through an eager nod and you help him over to the sink.   

“Mmk, why don’t you wash some cold water over your face, love? I’ll grab my things ‘n meet you in the back lot.”

It’s only as you’re turning to go that he works up any words.

“Holland? I…Thank you…” Leaning against the sink, his sweaty curls fall into his eyes. Slowly, he’s starting to look less like a lost child and more like himself again.

“You’re welcome, honey.” Your smile is soft, but full of warmth. You know exactly what he just went through. And to know you helped him pull out of that collapsing star makes you feel like the hero in a fairytale. The storybook princess who just saved the prince. “I’ll be right back for you.”

“I’ll be waiting.”   

///

“I know, baby…I know that…” Swallowing, you push away from the cement barrier of the rooftop. Rub at your forehead a bit as your manicured feet pace tiredly across the cement floor. “I’m sorry. I never meant to be vague or cryptic. I just meant…I can’t leave him for you. I can’t be what you need. I’m not good for you.”

“That’s not up to you.” He insists stubbornly.

“But it is. I’m seven years older than you, Shawn. It’s on me to make that call.”

“That is such bullshit, and you know it. I’ve been fucking…forced to grow up way faster than anyone else I know from the moment I stepped into Hollywood. I’ve been making more money than my parents since I was sixteen. I’ve been on tour since I was seventeen. And I haven’t stopped. I always fucking show up. Even when I feel like I’m walking around in a fucking corpse. I always do what has to be done. I always will. Do not tell me I don’t understand what I’m saying. My body is twenty years old. I’m not.”

Silence follows as his words sink like stones in the river of your bloodstream. You can’t argue with him there. It’s not fair for him to be forced into the responsibilities of an adult, only then to be treated like a child.

And the truth is… either way, you haven’t quite figured out how to truly deny him anyway.

“Text me the details of where you’ll be staying when you get here, yeah? I’ll…sort an excuse.”

“Well, you better pack a pretty big bag. ‘Cause once I have you, I’m not letting you go again.”

Shaking your head a how drunk he is, you laugh softly.

“Baby, please get some sleep, hmm? For me?”

“Mm mm. Stay on the phooone.”

God damnit. That pouty little baby voice is always so unfair. Sighing heavily, you consider threatening him playfully. Teasing that you’ll fly with Alec to New York next week if he doesn’t take care of himself. But that means you’d actually have to hang up.

“If I stay on the phone, you have to drink some water. And lay down. Promise?”

“…You’re really gunna let me see you next week?”

“Course, honey. Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Yawning deeply, you can all but hear him nod as his voice finally gives in to his body’s exhaustion. The wind interference clears as he heads back into his suite. A sigh of relief loosens from your chest. You’re never crazy about him being outside and up that high when he’s so drunk. 

“Mmk…water ‘n down.”

“Good, baby. That’s good… I love you, hmm?” Switching on your rooftop firepit, you slouch down into the armchair that gives you the best view of Lake Michigan in the moonlight. You’ll stay up as long he needs you to. Even if that’s sunrise. 

“I love you too, Holls… only you.”

[usfwspacific]

Hope Hatches for Hawaiian Bird

First Hatch Gives Hope for the Future of an Endangered Hawaiian Bird 

ʻAkikiki chick peaks out from a nest. Photo by SZDG

Conservationists in Hawai‘i are rejoicing over the first successful breeding of ‘akikiki in captivity. The ‘akikiki is a critically endangered species found only in the remote forests of Kaua‘i, and the young fledgling represents a significant step in efforts to save this small Hawaiian honeycreeper.

ʻAkikiki occupy an increasingly small rang on the island of Kauai. There are fewer than 500 birds left in the wild. Gif shows an ʻakikiki in a nest and a map of the ʻakikiki range. 

“The parents that produced this offspring came from eggs collected in the wild.” said Jennifer Pribble, Research Coordinator, Hawai‘i Endangered Bird Conservation Program, San Diego Zoo Global. “So this is the first offspring ever produced in captivity. It was parent-reared, raised completely by its mother, without any human intervention. The parents are a 3-year old male and 2-year old female.”

ʻAkikiki nests in the wild are very hard to find due to their small size and remote forest locations. Photos of ʻAkikiki nests by SDZG.

Eggs from ‘akikiki have been collected from native forest habitat since 2015 as part of an effort to preserve the species from extinction. The eggs were brought into human care to start a breeding population through a collaborative effort by the Kaua‘i Forest Bird Recovery Project, State of Hawai‘i Department of Land and Natural Resources’ Division of Forestry and Wildlife, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service-Pacific Islands Fish and Wildlife Office, and San Diego Zoo Global’s Hawai‘i Endangered Bird Conservation Program.

“The ‘akikiki population has shown steep declines over the past 10 to 15 years, and now number fewer than 500 birds in the wild,” said Lisa “Cali” Crampton, Kaua‘i Forest Bird Recovery Project Coordinator. She adds, “We hope that one day this young bird and its kin will be released on the Alaka‘i Plateau to help turn this number around.”

“The future of forest birds on Kaua‘i depends on all of us working together and is especially important for critically endangered birds like the ‘akikiki,” said Michelle Clark, Kaua‘i Partnerships Biologist, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. “A panel of experts in Hawaiian forest bird conservation identified the initiation of a conservation breeding program as an essential step to prevent extinction of ‘akikiki. Being able to reproduce in captivity is another step forward for the species.”  

About the ‘Akikiki

The ‘akikiki is a species of Hawaiian honeycreeper found only on the island of Kaua‘i. This small bird species has been severely affected by introduced diseases such as avian malaria, as well as loss of native forest habitat, hurricanes, and the introduction of non-native predator species in the wild. Very little is known about ‘akikiki and they have not been raised in an intensive care setting before. Conservationists with the Hawai‘i Endangered Bird Conservation Program have successfully cared for a number of other similar native Hawaiian birds and are using these and new techniques to help this endangered species thrive.

An ʻakikiki on a feeding scale in captivity. Photo by SDZG.

“After collecting the first ‘akikiki eggs and hand-raising the chicks, it is exciting to have confirmation that our artificial incubation and hand-rearing techniques are successful with this milestone of ‘akikiki reproducing in captivity,” said Jeremy Hodges, Research Coordinator, Hawai‘i Endangered Bird Conservation Program, San Diego Zoo Global.

Partners in Conservation

This effort has also been supported by the Mohamed Bin Zayed Species Conservation Fund, American Bird Conservancy, Hawaiian Airlines, Kaua‘i Realty, Bryan and Tanya Tanaka, and anonymous donors.

Bringing species back from the brink of extinction is the goal of San Diego Zoo Global. As a leader in conservation, the work of San Diego Zoo Global includes onsite wildlife conservation efforts (representing both plants and animals) at the San Diego Zoo, the San Diego Zoo Safari Park, and San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research, as well as international field programs on six continents. The work of these entities is inspiring children through the San Diego Zoo Kids network, reaching out through the Internet and in children’s hospitals nationwide. The work of San Diego Zoo Global is made possible by the San Diego Zoo Global Wildlife Conservancy and is supported in part by the Foundation of San Diego Zoo Global.

The Kaua‘i Forest Bird Recovery Project is a collaboration between the Pacific Studies Cooperative Unit of the University of Hawai'i and the Hawaii Division of Forestry and Wildlife. Its mission is to promote knowledge, appreciation, and conservation of Kauai’s native forest birds, with a particular focus on the three endangered species: Puaiohi, ‘Akikiki and ‘Akeke‘e. For more information, please see www.kauaiforestbirds.org. The mission of the Hawaii Department of Land and Natural Resources’ Division of Forestry and Wildlife is to responsibly manage and protect watersheds, native ecosystems, and cultural resources and provide outdoor recreation and sustainable forest products opportunities, while facilitating partnerships, community involvement and education.  

The mission of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is working with others to conserve, protect, and enhance fish, wildlife, plants, and their habitats for the continuing benefit of the American people. The mission of the Pacific Islands Fish and Wildlife Office is to conserve and restore native biodiversity and ecological integrity of Pacific Island ecosystems for the benefit of present and future generations through leadership, science-based management, and collaborative partnerships.  

More Photos available at https://sandiegozoo.box.com/s/iju13j7bozxx2k6p4241bnb0mu2epqr3