by Amanda Aksel
He let out a defeated whine, frowning like a child that had just lost his video game privileges. “Okay.”
I grabbed his face and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Hang in there, baby.”
February tenth arrived as promised. It was a day I’d hoped would be known as Conception Day. After squeezing in another one of Katie's patients, or rather one of my new patients, I ran to the Muni, barely making it in time. I arrived at Dr. Pia’s office about five minutes late, expecting to see my cute husband’s face waiting for me, but he seemed to also be running behind. I sent him a quick text as I approached the reception window.
“Marin Johns-Young to see Dr. Pia,” I said.
The receptionist, Laura, who I’d now recognize on the street, gave me a toothy smile. “Dr. Johns, you don’t have to introduce yourself every time. I know who you are. Mr. Young is already here.” She nodded in the direction of the hallway. “In the back.”
“Oh,” I said with an awkward stare. Sadly, both of us knew that my husband was rubbing one out in the other room. Laura was probably desensitized to the idea, since she dealt with it all the time on the job, but for me it was as fresh as the rosy hue on my cheeks. “Has he been back there long?” I asked, clearing my throat and fidgeting my arms. Crossed. Uncrossed. At my sides but not too stiff.
She smiled in a nonchalant kind of way. “Not long. The nurse will call you as soon as they're ready.”
I thanked her and sat down, scrolling through the emails on my phone while I waited, but I couldn't focus on anything except the fact that in about an hour, I'd be lying on my back with my feet in stirrups, while Dr. Pia stuck a tiny turkey baster up my vagina and released James' little army of sperm. At least I hoped they’d have the attitude of an army. Go on, guys! Win the war!
I looked up from my phone and met eyes with another woman sitting across from me. She gave me a friendly smile. “Hi, how are you?” she asked in a strong Asian accent.
I shrugged, letting out a small sigh. “That's a loaded question when you're in a fertility clinic.”
Her smile grew brighter and she leaned forward. “I'm sorry?” she asked, clearly not understanding what I’d said.
“Nothing,” I replied with a dismissive wave. “I'm doing fine. How are you?”
“Oh, I am doing okay.” She nodded, seeming to want to convince herself more than she wanted to convince me. “My name is Keiko.” She held her hand up in a small wave. “I'm from Japan.” I couldn't tell if she was twenty-eight or thirty-five, but she seemed to be in good spirits.
“I'm Marin.”
“Great, nice to meet you,” she said, nodding some more.
“Is your husband here?” I asked, wondering if he was in the room next to my husband. I shook my head. It was too weird to keep thinking about.
“No. He is on a business trip right now, so I'm here by myself. We're just getting the results back from my hystero . . . hysterograph . . .” She struggled to get out the term. English was my first and only language and I could barely pronounce it.
“Hysterosalpingography?” I tried.
She snapped her fingers. “Yep. That’s it.”
I couldn’t imagine dealing with this in a foreign country, especially if James were away, even if he only missed one appointment. My heart went out to Keiko, who seemed sweeter than the ice cream I was promised after the procedure. “Who's your doctor?” I asked.
“Dr. Pia,” she replied.
“Me too!” I said as if it were a happy coincidence, when really there was a thirty-three point three percent chance we’d have the same physician.
Keiko’s eyes lit up. “Oh, great. She is a really great doctor.” She roared the word great with enthusiasm like Tony the Tiger. And I liked her even more.
“Have you been a patient for a while?” I asked, then held my breath.
Her smile faded, but she didn’t look sad, just serious. After all, this baby-making business was practically a second job. “Yes, maybe a couple of years, I think.”
A couple of years! That sounded like an eternity. My stomach churned. I wanted to vomit all over the cream-and-taupe-striped upholstery and pray that it was morning sickness.
“What about you?” she asked, seeming just as eager to hear my response.
“We just started seeing her this year. So . . .” I held up a pair of crossed fingers. She giggled a sweet laugh and crossed her fingers too. “Is it hard being away from Japan?” Did she have any support here besides her jet-setting husband?
“Yeah, I miss Japan.” She nodded sincerely, then the corners of her mouth turned up into a smile. “But, I really love the United States.”
I could tell that Keiko was an eternal optimist like me. There was something about her bright beam that was inviting and made me trust her, wanting to tell her everything. Hmm, maybe she was a therapist like me. “What do you do for work?” I asked.
“I'm a elementary school teacher.” She pronounced every syllable in elementary, rolling the “R” slightly.
“Really?” I bet she was a hit with her students. “One of my good friends is an elementary school teacher. At Sea Cliff Elementary.”
Her eyes shot open. “Sea Cliff Elementary? That's where I teach.”
My gawk mirrored hers. “Wow! Her name is Rachel Fenwick."
“Rachel? I know her!” Keiko’s voice raised a couple of octaves. “She is so nice. Rachel is always bringing in cupcakes and cookies. I cannot stop eating.” She put her hand on her belly and prodded her finger into like it was a rising loaf of dough. “I wish this was a baby.” She laughed, poking fun at herself as she poked her belly. Even though I knew she was kidding, I could hear the struggle behind it. Under the circumstances, I’d eat all of Rachel’s home-baked goods too. Maybe I could talk her into whipping me up a basket of blueberry muffins. Keiko and I can share.
“Keiko Kobayashi,” the nurse called from the doorway.
Keiko jolted in her seat. “Oh, that's me. It was nice to meet you, Marin. Good luck!” She sang the words good luck as she rose to her feet.
“Thanks. You too,” I said. “Please tell Rachel I said hi. You'll probably see her before I do.”
“Okay, I will. Thank you! Bye, bye!” Keiko walked toward the nurse, but turned back to wave goodbye, leaving me with a smile as bright as the sun.
“Bye.” I waved, still smiling after she disappeared into the hall. I relaxed in my chair. Yep, today would be a good day. Moments later, just as I was feeling butterflies swarming around my insides, James appeared, walking quickly and looking somewhat disturbed.
I sat up, tensing my muscles. “Hey, you okay?”
He plunked down, rubbing his hands on his knees. “Yeah, I'm fine. It's just weird having to do this.”
“I know,” I said. “Believe me, I don't want to be on that table any more than you wanted to . . .” I gestured to his manhood, “but I have a good feeling about this.” I said, holding up my crossed fingers.
He shot me a strange look. “You do?”
I couldn’t stop smiling, I wanted to spring out of my seat. Today’s the day! “Yeah, of course I do. Why? You don't?” Even the idea that James might not be feeling as positive didn’t bring me down. I needed to get that Keiko woman’s number. She was like my living anti-anxiety.
James shrugged. “No, it's not that. You’ve just seemed really down about this whole thing. But it's nice to see you smiling again.” He leaned forward and laid one on me. Mmm, his kiss was better in a state of joy.
“Well, I wasn't feeling so good ten minutes ago, but I just met this woman. She works with Rachel and I guess she cheered me up.”
“That’s cool.”
“Marin Johns-Young,” Nurse Judy called and my stomach flipped. It was time to get the show on the road.
She led us to an exam room painted in a soft blue with pictures of babies dressed as flowers on the walls. She asked me to take a seat on a chair next to the paper-covered table and rolled over to me on her low stool. James hovered
near the corner with his arms crossed as if he were my bodyguard.
“How are you feeling today?” Judy asked.
“Good,” I said, my hands getting a little clammy.
Judy kept her eyes on her tablet. “Any hot flashes?”
I shook my head. “No.” Thank God.
“Rash or irritation near the injection site?” She looked up and I glanced at James, who suggested we rotate injection sites to avoid any more tenderness or bruising.
“Nope.”
She continued down the list of questions, but I had no news, which was good news. At least for that part.
“Okay, I’ll get the doctor,” Nurse Judy said, standing up and cradling her tablet in her arms. “Go ahead and undress from the waist down and cover up with the sheet on the table." She pulled a blue and gray floral curtain behind her and I waited to hear the door close.
I glanced as James just as I was about to pull down my panties. “Don’t get any ideas,” I said.
He held his hands up. “I left all my ideas in that plastic cup.”
I spit out a laugh. “I hope they’re all your good ideas.”
“Me too.”
I wrapped the paper sheet around my waist and sat on the table. James and I quietly browsed social media on our phones, showing each other cute animal videos from our social media steams. When Dr. Pia hadn’t arrived after ten minutes, I handed him my phone and stared at the photos of the flower babies on the wall.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asked before tucking his phone in his pocket.
“Baby names,” I said and flashed him a slightly embarrassed smile. It was way too early to consider names, but it was a part of the process I couldn’t wait to dive into.
“Baby names, huh,” he said, gazing up at the ceiling. “Any ideas?”
“I like Amelia,” I said. “For a girl of course.”
James nodded. I could tell he liked the name more with every nod. “Amelia Young. It’s nice. What about for a boy? There’s a fifty percent chance we’ll have a boy, you know.” Something he always reminded me of when I talked about our future daughter. A girl was my preference and a boy was his, but when it came down to it, all we wanted was a healthy baby.
“I actually always liked the name James for a boy,” I said.
“James Jr.?” my husband suggested, seeming to love the idea.
I crinkled my nose and shook my head. “No, I think it’s weird to have two people in the house with the same name, and no offense, I’m not crazy about the nickname Jimmy.”
“You don’t like Little Jimmy?” he asked but I knew he’d hated the nickname too.
“Um, no.”
He laughed. “What about Charles, Charlie?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s cute.”
“It was my grandfather’s name,” James said proudly.
“Well, in that case, we should keep it in the running.” I looked into his eyes, knowing that there was no one I’d rather make Baby Amelia or Baby Charlie with more than my man James.
There was a knock at the door and a second later Dr. Pia called, “Are you dressed?”
My heart did a cartwheel inside my chest. The time had come. “If paper counts, then yes.”
She laughed and opened the curtain, even though I’m sure she must’ve heard that remark many times before. “Hello, Marin. James. How are you today?” Nurse Judy was behind her carrying a tray with a filled-syringe of James’ freshly washed sperm.
“We’re good,” I said. “A little nervous, but good.”
Dr. Pia sat on the stool and rolled over to the table, snapping on her latex gloves. “Oh, there's no need to be nervous. You should be excited! You have a chance of getting pregnant today.”
My stomach flipped and the sensation was what I imagined a baby kicking might feel like. My baby. I glanced over at James, who looked as nervous as I felt.
“Why don't you go ahead and lie back and I'll do a quick examination, okay?”
I lay back on the crinkly paper, holding my sweaty hands close to my chest, and stared up to the dove-gray painted ceiling tiles.
“This might be a little cold.” The metal of the speculum wasn't as cold as it was uncomfortable stretching me out. I hoped I didn’t have to get used to this. Her rubber fingers slid inside me, poking around a bit. “Do you have any plans for this weekend?” she asked.
“Yeah, James is taking me out for Valentine's Day.”
“Great,” she said, pulling out of me and discarding her gloves.
I turned my head toward her. “Wait, great that I'm going out with my husband or great, my uterus looks good?”
She laughed, wrinkling her nose. “Both actually.” I loved the way she said anything with an uly or ally. Actually. Usually. Normally.
“So now what?” James asked, and I could hear the unease in his voice.
“Now, we do the insemination,” she said.
“Right now? It's ready?” he asked as if we’d skipped a few steps.
“Yes, it's ready,” she sang, slapping on a new pair of gloves and pulling a few things off of the medical tray. “The question is, are you ready? Well, really, is Marin ready?” Dr. Pia sat on the stool and scooted between the stirrups.
“Marin’s ready!” I said and lifted my head to look at her between my legs. In all the times I'd imagine getting pregnant, I never thought it'd be by a woman inserting my own husband's sperm inside of me while he bit his nails in the corner. But here we were, twelve months. No baby. So I guess I was as ready as I could be.
“Okay, here we go!”
I felt something cold and fluid pushing inside me. I closed my eyes and imagined the sperm breaking through one of my eggs like in that movie about the talking baby. The sound of her ripping off the rubber gloves brought me to.
“That's it?” I asked.
“That's it. Now all we have to do is cross our fingers,” she said, holding up two sets of hopeful hands. I did the same. We looked over to James, who seemed like he felt silly holding up his crossed fingers. To getting pregnant on my first insemination try!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Surprise with a Side of Drama, Please!
That Valentine's Day evening, I jammed out to my favorite song with the word "baby" blasting from my phone and rocked my hips as I swiped my eyelashes with mascara. I rubbed my hormone-bloated belly like a Buddha for good luck. With any luck, my baby was in there. I smoothed some lotion over my legs and spritzed my neck with my “sexy” perfume, then slipped into a short, loose-fitting dress so I could show my sexy legs off to my husband all night. The sex ban was lifted and I was ready to do naughty things to James later that night.
We arrived at the restaurant shortly after seven. It was one of my preferred spots, though I didn’t go often because it was across town and there were so many awesome places to eat right in my neighborhood. Dim recessed lighting illuminated the cherry wood floor below. And most of the tables were full. There was a row of semi-enclosed booths in the center of the restaurant. I was hoping for one of those since they came with a little privacy and it was our Valentine’s Day dinner.
“Reservation for James Young,” he said to the hostess.
She ran her finger along her tablet. “Yes, the rest of your party is already here. Follow me.”
James straightened his suit jacket and took my hand.
“The rest of our party?” I asked through gritted teeth and he shrugged like he didn't know what I was talking about. As we turned the corner, I spotted all of them standing up from their seats: Telly, Holly, Noom, Rachel, and David. “Happy Birthday!”
Telly popped a bottle of champagne and David quickly placed his flute beneath the rim, filling his glass. Well so much for foreplay.
“What are you all doing here?” I asked between hugs from my friends.
“James wanted to surprise you,” Holly said, giving me her classic tight squeeze. I pulled back and admired her floor-length, Thai-patterned dress. Her wrist jingled with two dozen silver bang
les.
I gave James a straight face. “Well, I am surprised.”
It was sweet that he wanted to gather all of my good friends for my birthday, but I couldn't help but think that dealing with his hormonal wife was so awful that he didn't want to be alone with me. Then again, I wasn’t that bad. At least, I didn’t think I was.
As all of my friends were loading up on champagne, I opted for a classic Shirley Temple, the virgin's cocktail. No one asked why I wasn't drinking, and even though I'd only told Holly and Telly about the insemination, I assumed the others had somehow figured something out for themselves. The conversation went on as usual, but I found myself continually glancing over at Rachel and David. The two had hardly said a word to each other the whole time I'd been there. Telly must’ve been working on their divorce for at least two months and they had yet to announce their separation. Rachel hadn’t mentioned anything about it since Holly's wedding. And the only reason I hadn't gone completely bonkers over keeping her secret was because I was so damn preoccupied with my influx of patients and getting pregnant. But as I sat next to them, it was all I could think about.
“Rachel,” I called across the table. “Did Keiko tell you that I met her the other day?”
She quickly swallowed a sip of her bubbly. “Yes, she did. What a small world, huh?”
“I know. She was so sweet. Maybe we could all get together sometime, I'd love to talk to her about her experience.” Even though I was hoping that the IUI took and I wouldn’t have to take notes on other treatments and procedures.
“Yeah, definitely.” Rachel’s eyes lit up. “We could do it at my place.” She loved to host people and was a self-proclaimed domestic goddess, excellent in the kitchen too.
“Our place,” David said with an offended glare. My muscles tensed, bracing for his next remark. “What are you doing at our place?”