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Lips together, legs apart

October 22, 2010

Now it was time to wait to be called for acupuncture. But when you have months’ worth of adrenaline coursing through your veins, sitting still and waiting is not an option. Instead, I was on a mission: I needed a trash mag need to read. And for the first time, there was nothing in sight by Web MD magazine (apparently the web has triumphed print to such a degree that now only websites get to print hard-copy magazines). I dug in, knowing this office had People magazines. Nothing. I went to the adjacent waiting area, only to find some Good Housekeepings and Redbooks. Really? You’re going to ask me to read about what to feed my baby when I am desperately trying to avoid believing that I might get a baby? On to the third waiting area, where I found my stash. Oh Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher, let your troubled marriage work its charms and distract me from this suburban medical complex.

Vicarious celebrity drama was not enough, though, to calm my racing heart. People seemed to be stepping away from me. I realized I was racing through monologues without a pause, like the lead actor in a community theater production of “Bright Lights, Big City.” I ever so casually let it slip to the nurse that I was wondering when I might be receiving that promised Valium. (You never want to look like you want the drugs, right? Otherwise they’ll think you’re an addict and send you home. I’ve seen “Grey’s.”) Twenty minutes later (it was 20, right? Not just four?) I asked the acupuncturist when the Valium would arrive. Perhaps I let it slip again with the embryologist, because the next thing I knew, I was alone in the examining room, listening to giggling voices outside saying, “She needs her meds!” I was inside “Terms of Endearment,” acting as my own Shirley Maclaine.

The acupuncturist herself was pregnant, and at this moment, it did not bug me. I also didn’t blink when she accidentally whipped off my mini-blanket, exposing all my baby-making machinery. As she profusely apologized, I said, “You’re pregnant. I’m in a fertility clinic. I don’t think either of us has a shred of modesty left.”

The event itself was milder than a pap smear. First I got to see Thing 1 and Thing 2. A few seconds later, my doctor said, “There you go,” and with the most nurturing of smiles gave me a hug, for which I will be forever grateful. Another round of acupuncture, and this time, the Valium did its trick. Oh little blue pill, how I heart thee. I not only dozed off on the table, but slept through the acupuncturist coming back in the room and wiggling all my needles.

Soon, I was lying across the back seat of my Rav-4, noticing how dirty its ceiling was as My Young Man’s father drove us both home to an uncertain, but promising, future.

Tomorrow: Flat on My Back and Manufacturing Symptoms

One Comment leave one →
  1. October 27, 2010 12:15 am

    I just wanted to say: this is a miracle. Go, go baby(s)! ❤

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