Mixed Blessings

by Danielle Steel

  “Maybe. But it’s more than that … it’s hard to explain … it’s just this incredible emptiness … this terrible yearning. It just makes me want to die sometimes. I can’t talk to anyone, not even Andy. I just die inside, and everything else freezes up until I’m in a shell. It’s the loneliest feeling I know, I don’t even know how to describe it.”

  “It sounds awful,” Eloise said sympathetically, and it explained perfectly what she had seen at the office. Diana had begun to shut everyone out, and lock herself in, and there was almost no reaching her anymore. It would be no surprise if it were affecting her marriage. “Have you seen a specialist?” She wanted to ask her if she’d seen a therapist, too, but she didn’t dare, and she was touched that Diana had confided in her as much as she had. She felt honored.

  “I’m seeing one next week actually. Someone named Alexander Johnston.” She didn’t know why she even bothered to say the name, but since she was confiding in Eloise, it seemed reasonable to tell her about him, and Diana was surprised when she saw her smile, as she poured another cup of coffee.

  “Have you heard the name?”

  “A few times. He’s my father’s partner. My father’s a reproductive endocrinologist. If things really get bad, they might push you off on him, or if you do IVF, in vitro fertilization, then Daddy might do it. He doesn’t take a lot of new patients anymore, except if they’re referred by Alex, or one of his other partners. You’re in good hands with Alex Johnston.” Diana felt relieved, and she looked at her in amazement. It was a smaller world than she thought, even in that field. “Do you want me to say something to him, about knowing you?” Eloise asked cautiously, not sure how Diana would feel about it.

  “I’d rather not. I think I’d rather just keep this business, but I’m glad to know that I picked the right office.”

  “The best. They’ll work it out. The statistics are pretty impressive these days. I grew up on that stuff. I’m not sure I ever thought people just ‘did it’ and got pregnant. I think I always assumed that my father had to be there to help them.” It was an intriguing idea, and Diana laughed at the image Eloise painted.

  Eloise had finally asked her, while they were eating incredibly good apple tarts with crème fraîche, why she didn’t take some time off to work it all out. It might be easier on her, and maybe even on Andy, but Diana said she didn’t think she could, and in the end, she admitted that she didn’t want to.

  “I can’t just walk out on work. Besides, what would I do with myself? Both my sisters did that, and they’re at home now with their kids. But you know, I’m not sure I could just stay home, not now anyway. Maybe if I had a baby. Right now it gives me something to think about while I count the days, and wait to take my temperature every morning.”

  “I’m not sure I could stand all that. How do you do it?”

  “I want a baby very badly. I suspect you do a lot of things, if you have to.” From listening to her father talk about procedures he performed, Eloise knew that even better than Diana.

  Diana was thinking of her as she drove to the Wilshire Carthay Building, wondering if she would catch a glimpse of Eloise’s father. It still seemed amazing to her that by sheer chance she had made an appointment with her father’s partner. And everyone she’d talked to said that Alex Johnston was very good, but as Diana rode up in the elevator, she was suddenly desperately nervous and very frightened.

  The waiting room was quiet, but elegant, done all in cream and oatmeal colors, with expensive modern art on the walls, and a huge palm tree in the corner. Diana was told to take a seat, and a few minutes later she was ushered into the inner sanctum. There was a long hallway, with more art, and skylights high overhead, and at the end of the hall the nurse led her into a room that was panelled in bleached wood, with a beautiful rug on the floor, and a handsome sculpture of a woman and a child stood in the corner. And oddly enough, even seeing a piece of art depicting a mother and child caused her pain now.

  She thanked the nurse and sat down, trying to stay calm and think of Andy. She was terrified of what they were going to do to her, or what they would find, but a moment later she was pleasantly surprised when she met the doctor. He was a tall, sandy-haired man, with long graceful hands and intelligent blue eyes, and in some ways, he reminded her of her father.

  “Hello.” He smiled at her warmly, and shook her hand. “I’m Alex Johnston. It’s nice to see you.” And he actually sounded as though he meant it. He chatted with her for a few minutes about what she did, and where she was from, and how long she’d been married, and then he pulled an empty chart closer to him on the desk and took out a pen as he glanced at Diana warmly. “Why don’t we make a few notes here, and get down to business. What brings you here, Mrs. Douglas?”

  “I … we … we’ve been trying to get pregnant for a little over a year, thirteen months to be exact, and so far nothing’s happened.” She admitted to him, too, that they had also been somewhat careless about birth control before their marriage, and she had never gotten pregnant then either.

  “Have you ever been pregnant? Any live or still births?… or abortions?”

  “None,” she said solemnly. Without even knowing him, she already had enormous respect for him, and complete faith that he was going to be able to solve their problem.

  “Have you ever been ‘careless’ about birth control before this?” he asked, watching her closely.

  “No. I’ve always been careful about birth control.”

  “What methods have you used?” The questions went on and on about her methods of birth control. He particularly wanted to know if she’d ever had an IUD, which she had while she was in college, or if she’d been on the pill, and for how long. He wanted to know about venereal diseases—which she’d never had—cysts, tumors, pains, hemorrhages, accidents, severe infections of any kind, surgeries, or any history of cancer, or family diseases like diabetes. He wanted to know everything about her. And at the end of her long recital of all the things she didn’t have, he reassured her that a year was not a long time to achieve pregnancy, although understandably it might seem long to her and her husband. But there was no reason to panic. He even said that if she wanted to, at her age, he could comfortably recommend letting them try on their own for another six months, or even a year, before doing any serious investigation, although he said that he personally preferred doing tests after one year without conception.

  “Why don’t we check out a few things now, a few simple steps. I can do a preliminary examination, to make sure you don’t have a minor infection that might be upsetting the balance.” He smiled at her, and she agreed that she would rather proceed now, rather than wait any longer. She knew that she couldn’t stand another six months of hope and heartbreak. She wanted to know why nothing was happening. She just couldn’t believe there wasn’t a simple explanation, and she’d rather find it out now than a year later, so they could fix it and get on with it, and she explained all that to Dr. Johnston.

  “There’s also the distinct possibility”—he smiled at her—“that there’s nothing to fix at all, and you’re perfectly healthy and you just need to be patient. Or, if there’s any basis for concern, we can begin examining your husband.” She and Andy had agreed that they would start with her, and then see what the doctor said about seeing Andy.

  “I hope you don’t find anything,” she said quietly, and he said he hoped so too, and mentioned vaguely that so far only the fact that she’d once had an IUD concerned him. He stood up then and directed her to a room across the hall, where she could change and he would perform his examination. Today would be very little more than a pelvic. He had just explained to her that the bulk of his tests would have to be in approximately two weeks, right around the time of ovulation. They would check her cervical mucus then to see if it was “inviting” enough to the sperm, or if it was hostile. And if it was hostile, there were further tests they would do, like a cross-match. But at the time of ovulation, they would do an ultrasound, to see how her follicle was
maturing before ovulation, and a postcoital test, which was only a slide test to check her mucus, and Andy’s sperm for motility and number.

  But today all he was going to do was the pelvic, to check for growths, cysts, infection, or deformities, and then they would draw blood to check for HIV, lowgrade infections, and to check her immunity to rubella. He also wanted a complete blood count, and he would be doing cervical cultures after the pelvic, to check even further for infections. Sometimes a simple infection was the key to the whole problem.

  It seemed as though they had a lot planned, although the only tests they were doing that day were simple ones, but at least she finally felt as though they were doing something to find out what was going on in her body. She smiled to herself as she remembered what Andy had said to her the night before. He had told her about a problem he’d had with his nose when he was a child. It had gotten terribly stopped up, until he could barely breathe, and his mother had taken him to a specialist, to check his adenoids and tonsils.

  “And you know what it turned out to be?” he asked solemnly, as he lay in bed with an arm around her.

  “I don’t know … a sinus infection?”

  “Much simpler than that. Raisins. I’d shoved a whole bunch up my nose a few days before, and they just kind of sat there all warm and cozy, and grew, and I was afraid to say anything to my mother. So when you see the doctor tomorrow, sweetheart … don’t forget to tell him to check for raisins.” She smiled again as she thought of the story, while the doctor examined her, and it reminded her again of how much she loved Andy.

  But Dr. Johnston did not find any raisins. Nor did he find any deformities, or tumors, or cysts, or any sign of infection. Everything checked out perfectly, and Diana was relieved, as a technician came in to do the blood work.

  And once she was dressed, the doctor explained that he wanted her back in ten days to do the tests he had already discussed with her, and that they would tell them exactly when to time their lovemaking this month, at the fertile time, and he wanted her to use an ovulation kit the following week to check her urine for a surge of luteinizing hormone, or LH, which would occur just before ovulation. It sounded very complicated, but actually, it wasn’t. It was just new. And he wanted her to continue taking her temperature, which she had done anyway for the past six months, and even that drove Andy crazy. He said it was like living with a hypochondriac, with a thermometer shoved in her mouth every morning. But as always, he was a good sport about it, if she thought it would help them get pregnant.

  Before she left, the doctor also suggested to Diana that she and Andy slow down a little bit, if they could, take some time off from work, spend time doing the things they liked to do, even if it meant sacrificing time with friends or work-related projects.

  “Stress can play an important part in infertility too. Try to wind down as much as you can, both of you. Get lots of fresh air, eat well, sleep.” It was all easier said than done in the modern world, and he knew it, but he also thought it was worth saying. He had said again that more than likely there was nothing wrong with either of them, and all they needed was a little more time and things would happen naturally. But if there was a problem, he assured her, they would find it. But as she left his office, feeling hopeful and excited and nervous, she remembered something else he had said, that roughly fifty percent of the couples treated for infertility gave birth to healthy babies, but there were others, healthy themselves, with absolutely nothing wrong with them, who never got pregnant. It was something she would have to face, if it ever came to that for them, but she didn’t know how she would do it. Just being there, talking to the doctor about the various possibilities, the tests she might have to face, made her realize for the first time just how much she was willing to do to have a baby. She would do anything, short of stealing one.

  She was exhausted as she drove home, and for a minute she was tempted to go to the office, but she had taken the day off anyway, and it was after one o’clock, and she remembered what the doctor had said about not pushing herself. So she decided to go shopping instead, and as she walked through Saks, she felt deliriously guilty. She called Andy from the store, but he was out to lunch, and eventually she went home, and decided to make him a really fancy dinner.

  He called her at three o’clock, and he could hear the lighter tone in her voice when she answered. At least they hadn’t found anything terribly wrong with her yet. And maybe it was his fault. Actually, for the past month or two he’d been beginning to think so.

  “So?” he said, sounding warm and sexy over the phone. “Did they find them?”

  “Find what?” She sounded puzzled.

  “The raisins. Didn’t you tell him?”

  “You silly …” She told him all about the questions they’d asked, the exam they’d done, and the tests that lay ahead, none of which sounded really awful. She’d been really afraid that the treatment would be ghastly, but so far none of it sounded too daunting.

  “So you go back in two weeks?”

  “Ten days, and meanwhile I still take my temperature every morning, and start checking my urine with the kit next week.”

  “Sounds complicated to me,” he said, wondering what the future held for them, and especially for him. Maybe the tests would be worse for him when they got to them. He still thought the whole thing was unnecessary and more than a little scary. But he was willing to go along with it, for her sake.

  “By the way,” he said, after she’d explained it all to him, and told him everything she could about Dr. Johnston, down to the shoes he wore, and the list of diplomas on his office wall, “you’re not going to believe this.”

  “You got a raise,” she said hopefully; he worked like a slave for the network.

  “No, but it’s coming, according to sources close to the top. But this is pretty good too. Try again.”

  “The head of the network got arrested for exposing himself in the cafeteria,” she said, closing her eyes and thinking creatively.

  “Very nice … I wonder if there’s anything to that? … No, I’ll tell you myself, since you’ll never guess, and I have to be in a meeting in two minutes. Bill Bennington is marrying his little lawyer friend on Labor Day, at her parents’ summer house at Lake Tahoe. Can you believe that? I almost choked when he told me. I was eating a corned beef sandwich with him downstairs, and I thought he was kidding, till I saw his face. Can you believe it?”

  “Actually, you know, maybe I can. In a funny way, I think he’s ready.”

  “I hope so. He’d better be anyway. The wedding’s only about seven weeks away. They’re going fishing in Alaska on their honeymoon.”

  “Yerghk! You’d better talk to him.”

  “I’d better get my ass to my meeting. See you later, sweetheart. I’ll be home around seven.” And as always, he was true to his word, and she had a terrific dinner waiting for him. She had used one of Eloise’s French recipes, and played around with it a little bit. She made leg of lamb with a light garlic sauce, string beans, and wild mushrooms. And for dessert an apricot souffle that was perfection.

  “Wow! What did I do to deserve all this?” he asked happily, as they finished dessert and she poured him a cup of coffee. She was feeling better than she had in a long time, and he could see it.

  “I just thought it would be fun to have a nice dinner, since I was a lady of leisure today.”

  “Maybe you should stay home more often.” She liked doing that, but she liked working too. Unlike her sisters, she had conflicts about that, and knew she might still have, even if they had a baby. But she didn’t have to face that yet, all she had to do was “relax and slow down,” according to the doctor. She told Andy about that, too, and he liked the idea, and immediately suggested they go to Santa Barbara for the weekend.

  “I’d love it.” He’d also made a date with Bill Bennington and his bride-to-be that week. Suddenly life felt like more fun, and she wasn’t sure why, except that she felt sure that the doctor was going to find a way to help them
have their baby, and that cheered her.

  They had a good time that week, and they were crazy about Bill’s fiancée, Denise Smith. She was everything he said she would be, and she invited them to her place for dinner the following week, but Andy was surprised when Diana put her off with vague excuses. But later on she told him that she would be ovulating then, she had to go to Dr. Johnston for tests, and they had to make love on schedule. She didn’t want to add to all that the strain of a social schedule.

  “Maybe it would be a relief instead of a strain,” Andy said testily, but Diana still didn’t want to go, and they made plans with Denise and Bill for the following week instead, although Andy was still annoyed about it. But Diana was busy pursuing their baby.

  She continued to take her temperature religiously every morning before she got up, and she began using the LH kit as she’d been told to, and the test turned blue on exactly the day the doctor said it would, and that afternoon she went to his office for him to check the mucus in her cervix. He said it looked fine to him, “Very nice and friendly,” as he put it, and Diana laughed nervously. He suggested that Andy and Diana make love the following morning, and Diana was to come in as soon as possible afterwards for the postcoital test that would show how Andy’s sperm were behaving.

  She went back to work late that afternoon, and had coffee with Eloise, and that night she brought Andy up to date on the latest developments, and told him they’d have to make love the next morning.

  “What an ordeal,” he said jokingly, but as it turned out, it was. He’d had indigestion the night before, and he really didn’t feel well when he woke up. He thought he was getting the flu, and he didn’t think “things were going to work out,” as he put it.

  “But you have to,” Diana said tensely as they lay in bed, and she tried to help him. “This is the day I ovulate, and I have to have the postcoital test today. I took my temperature and it’s way down, which means I’m probably ovulating today … Andy … you have to.” She looked at him accusingly, and he wanted to tell her to go to hell, but he didn’t.