by Amanda Aksel
“Marin!” she sang. “This article turned out more fabulous than if I had written it myself.” I had a feeling she made a call or two to write it herself.
“Yeah, it's nice,” I said, downplaying it some. The truth was the article was great. And it portrayed me as a rock star couples therapist, reminding me just how much I loved my job, even on the hardest days. But as I was reading over my achievements, all I could think was how could I have done all of that and had a baby? Telly’s spotlight piece didn’t make me feel any better about the possibility, as she had accomplished even more than I had and she was a single mother. I couldn’t do what she’d done. That woman was some kind of unicorn. Even Katie, who stood right in front of me, eventually had to choose between her job and her family. I wanted to pretend I didn’t have to make that same choice, but the more I thought about my current circumstances, I knew that in time something would have to give.
“Nice? This is going to be great for business. You look so good! Everyone will want an appointment with the incredible Dr. Johns-Young.”
She followed me into my office and I sat my purse beside the desk. “I don't know if I can handle any more appointments.”
“Oh sure you can, you're totally on top of your game. Besides, we’ll find a fourth partner soon enough.”
“That would be amazing because I could really use some help,” I said.
“Trust me, this is a good problem to have. Anyway, I gotta run, but I'll see you later. Congratulations!” She held the magazine over her face, walking backwards out of my office.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Win-Win-Win
The Fourth of July came and went with a bang, mostly because I was ovulating. I kept up the routine of supplements, herbs, teas, acupuncture, energy healing on occasion, yoga, and daily meditation. Still no baby. Dr. G. asked me to be patient, but my Veruca Salt Syndrome started creeping up again.
Speaking of salt, on a wound anyway, Ginger’s baby shower invitation showed up in my mailbox. The return address was from the Cho Family and I knew by the shape and color of the purple envelope exactly what it was. I RSVP’d, of course, even though I was nervous about how I’d feel watching Ginger get the mommy-to-be attention. Then I came to realize that history had in a way repeated itself. A couple years back I attended her wedding heartbroken and hopeless and then boom! I was engaged to the man of my dreams. Maybe after her baby shower, I’d finally have the baby of my dreams.
It was unseasonably warm the day of Ginger’s shower. She maintained her ever-beaming smile even though beads of sweat formed at the edge of her hairline and I could tell she was uncomfortable. Her belly had grown ginormous against her tiny frame, so much that I kept my eye on her to make sure she didn’t tip over.
The pink lemonade was refreshing and the food divinely scrumptious. I cozied up to the hostess, Alexis, thinking that if we became fast friends, maybe she’d throw my baby shower. With Telly and Holly, I’d end up with a shower of cocktails I couldn’t drink and gluten-free treats I wouldn’t want to touch.
Ginger reached for my arm just as I was engrossed in a conversation with Alexis. I turned to my pregnant friend. “Marin, are you having a good time?” she asked and kissed my cheek.
I glanced at Alexis and raised my lemonade-filled champagne glass. “Yes, a fabulous time.”
Her pregnant belly hung in the center between us, almost like a floating orb. Ginger turned slightly and the orb grazed my hand. “How’s it going with Dr. G.?” she asked.
“It’s going. He keeps telling me to be patient, so I’m trying that,” I said. “I can’t get over your belly. Oh, my gosh.”
She placed her hands in the front of her stomach, her arms stretched out almost all the way. “I know! It looks like I’m having twins or something. The doctor thinks she might be a big baby.”
“Aww, that’s so cute,” I said, touching her belly. It was firm, and a second later something rumbled beneath my palm.
Ginger giggled. “Oh, she’s kicking. Jon’s been calling her our little soccer star.”
I pressed my hand against her stomach, feeling the baby poking and undulating beneath her dress. I’d felt babies kick before, of course, but not since James and I had started trying. What would it be like to feel my baby kick in my belly? Some women complain when they’re trying to sleep and the baby seemed to be doing laps across their bladder. But I imagined that would be comforting, knowing your baby was in there, safely growing strong, so happy that she was growing inside your tummy that she couldn’t help but run laps. If my baby were anything like me, she’d be a runner too.
Then something clicked. The yearning for a baby had solidified in a different way. A more profound way. I couldn’t explain it, but I was ready for pregnancy, not abstractly, but actually ready. I had a crib and a painted nursery, after all.
When I got home that afternoon, I reread the last section of You CAN Get Pregnant. It was all about combining eastern and western methods. Acupuncture with IVF as a last effort. I spent the next hour doing more research online, mostly in the message boards I’d frequented when I first decided to see a fertility doctor. There were many testimonials about combining the two methods. From what I could tell, at least eighty percent of them had resulted in positive pregnancy tests. It was time. I wanted nothing more than to have an oversized belly like Ginger’s.
Just then, my cellphone buzzed on my desk. It was Telly. I swiped the screen.
“I need you to come over now!” Telly said like there was a huge spider in her apartment that she needed me to kill. She might’ve called the wrong person, depending on the size of the creepy crawler.
“What happened? Are you okay? Is Leo okay?” I asked.
“Leo’s fine. I'm not. Please come over. I need you,” she said.
“Okay, okay. Is this an insect situation?”
“Marin!” she growled and I knew right away that a huge spider didn’t have shit on whatever was bothering her. My heart raced like a galloping horse the entire way to her place. I had a crazy feeling she was going to tell me that she was pregnant again. Accidentally, of course. Hopefully not by that married guy she met online.
I banged on the door and held my breath.
“Thank God you're here,” she said and tugged me inside her place. Half of her living room had been packed up in cardboard boxes. And I realized that the news might’ve been worse. She was moving away.
“Telly . . . what's going on?” I scanned the room for a hint of more information.
She bit the nail on her pinky finger. “I think I've done something totally, totally insane.”
“Did you kill someone?” I asked.
“Worse.” She chewed her lower lip, rocking side to side.
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” It wouldn’t explain the boxes, but I needed to rule it out.
She glared at me. “No! But yeah, that would be worse.”
Whew! That was a close one. My tense muscles relaxed as if I were melting on to the floor. “Okay, so what is it?”
I couldn’t tell if she was going to cry or puke. “I'm moving in with Will.” She wrung out her hands as mine flew out to my sides.
I grinned, wrapping my arms around her, swaying as I held her. “Oh, my God! You and Will are getting back together! That's so great! Why didn't you tell me?”
“No,” she said, pushing me off. “We are not getting back together. This is just a living arrangement so Will can help me with the baby and for some stupid reason, I fucking agreed to it.”
I couldn't stop grinning. They may not have been getting back together now, but moving in was a huge step in the right direction. Even if they didn't know it yet. “Uh-huh.”
“So, I need you to talk me out of it. This is a huge mistake, right?”
I bellowed a laugh. “Are you serious? No way!”
She held her pleading hands in front of her. “Please, Marin. I need to hear all the reasons why I should not move in with him. This is unhealthy, isn’t it?”
“There are no reasons why you shouldn't move in with him. And I think it’s very healthy,” I said, now doing a victory dance.
“Marin! This is serious.” By the look in her eyes, she was. And I got that she would’ve appreciated it if I took it at least a little bit seriously too.
“Fine,” I said, taking a breath, doing my best to disguise my joy. “What are you going to do with your apartment” You're not gonna give it up, are you?”
Her shoulders dropped. “No, I'm leasing it to Rachel for a few months. Cheap too.”
“I see.” I tapped my finger on my chin. “She never mentioned that.”
“Well, I asked her not to tell you. The last thing I needed was you calling me some random afternoon and saying, ‘I told you so.’”
“But I . . .” I pressed my lips tightly together, fighting a boastful grin.
She held her hand up. “Don't say it!”
I shrugged. “Fine.”
She plopped down on the couch, rubbing her head as if the conversation were giving her a migraine. “So what else?”
I sat on the floor in front of her coffee table, or at that moment, her cardboard box platform, and scooted a box to the side. “I'm sorry, but there is nothing else. Leo will be around his dad more. You’ll have extra help. He's got a killer place with enough room for both of you. Rachel will take great care of your apartment. Seriously, you should see what she did with the tile in my bathroom. This is a win-win-win-win for all of you.”
She sneered. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
“Sorry, Tell. But this is going to be great for you, Will, and Leo.”
“I hope you're right.” She grabbed a roll of bubble wrap from the end table and chucked it at me. “Now help me pack before I change my mind.”
Later that evening, James and I were too tired to make dinner at home, or rather he was too tired to make me dinner, so we agreed to meet at one of our favorite sushi places in Telly’s neighborhood. In the middle of munching on salmon sashimi, I told him about Telly’s big move with wide eyes and an ostentatious voice. I still couldn’t believe it.
“Telly’s not the kind of person to ask for help, even when she needs it. This is a pretty big step for her,” James said.
I was so overjoyed with the possibility that Telly and Will would get back together that I hadn’t realized how much of her pride she must’ve swallowed to make that decision. For some, it may have seemed like the easy way out, but for her, it was the opposite. “Yes, it was,” I said.
“So, how was Ginger’s thing?” he asked.
“You mean baby shower?”
He nodded, popping another piece of fish in his mouth. “Yeah, that.”
I pushed my plate to the side and relaxed my shoulders. “It was really good. And it got me thinking about some things.”
James squished his brows together. “Like what?”
“Like . . .” I hesitated to say the words because I was sure James was going to veto them right away. “I think we should combine IVF with what we’re doing with Dr. G. That would give us our best shot. I just . . . I have a feeling about it.” I said, thinking that I’d had a lot of feelings and I still had no baby. I didn’t know if it was hope or intuition, but I knew I had to follow it.
He swallowed hard. “I thought something like this might happen after you went to Ginger’s baby shower, but I thought you’d be more frantic. I was so relieved when you called this afternoon sounding so chipper.”
“That’s pretty much how I always sound when I’m with Telly.”
He laughed. “True.”
“So, what do you think?” I bit my bottom lip.
He sighed and gave me a half smile. “I think if we do this, and God forbid it doesn’t work, then we need to stop with the fertility stuff and look at other options. I know we’re technically moving forward, but this past year has felt like our lives have been on hold. I don’t want to be one of those couples that gets bogged down because we haven’t conceived yet. I want a baby too. I really do. But there are other ways to have a family.”
I hated the idea that it was all or nothing. But in my heart, I knew that was the case before I even mentioned it. I was thirty-five with as healthy of a lifestyle as I could manage, taking every supplement I could swallow, lying through acupuncture, and soon adding more hormone drugs, plus creating a viable embryo to transfer right into my uterus. It was the only way I could make the stars align, for us to have that win. It had to work.
“Okay,” I said. “I don’t want to be one of those couples either. But this will work. I know it.” I laid my hand on the table palm up and he took it in his.
“Then let’s do it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Monster Marin
When I consulted Dr. G. about integrating IVF with his TCM treatment, he flat out told me that I was jumping the gun. And I wanted to tell him that not everyone could be all patient and zen like him, especially a thirty-five year old woman who wanted to have kids. But of course, he agreed and shared that he had worked with Dr. Pia before and that they would do the treatments in tandem for the best results. The idea of two specialists working hand in hand boosted my confidence. It would definitely work.
The morning before we saw Dr. Pia, I stood in front of our dresser mirror.
I love my wife.
I love my husband.
We love our baby.
I knew the treatment would be more taxing than all the others, and I wanted to remind myself, that no matter what, James and I were a family first and we needed to stick together. Dr. Pia didn’t seem salty when we returned after having sought treatment elsewhere. She had already spoken with Dr. G. and the two had established a strategy. We reviewed the process with her and then she handed us over to Nurse Karen, the IVF coordinator, for the rest. James seemed extra nervous after we left the clinic and I didn’t know if it was the fact that we were about to drop thousands and thousands of dollars or if he was afraid we’d be disappointed once more. I couldn’t let either of those thoughts in my head. Doubt would do us no good.
I started birth control pills that night for the first time since before James and I got married. It seemed strange taking a contraceptive when we were trying to conceive. But, it was all part of the process. I just wanted to sit back and enjoy the IVF ride, which is exactly what it was. And a wild ride at that. Totally not what I expected.
Weeks later, I could barely concentrate at work. I was bloated and moody. My boobs were so tender I could feel them even when I was sitting still. I felt like Monster Marin and just wanted to be locked in a room alone until the whole thing was over.
The evening of the trigger shot, just a few days before the egg retrieval, I’d had enough. Yoga, meditation, and even Linda the energy healer couldn’t contain the emotional beast inside me. I was like an irritated grizzly bear, wanting to rip off the heads of anyone who pestered me. James knew I was in one of those moods and he kept his distance most of the evening until it came time to administer the shot.
“Wait,” I said, smacking his hand away from my stomach, which had become slightly bruised from the injections.
“What?” he asked in a sharp tone.
“You’re doing it wrong,” I barked.
“Marin,” he said as if he’d had enough too. “This is the same way I do it every night. The same way I did it with IUI.”
I snatched the syringe from his hand and nudged him away with my leg. “Well, maybe that’s why it was unsuccessful.”
His expression was about as grizzly as I was behaving. “Excuse me?”
I got off the chair and walked to the bathroom. “I’ll just do it myself.”
“Oh, right, because you’re an expert!” he yelled.
“Yeah, I am! I went to medical school, remember!” I hollered from the bathroom. I didn’t recall that lesson from school, but I was pretty sure I was way too emotional to be shooting myself up with expensive hormones. My hands trembled as I set the syringe on the counter.
“You flunked out of medical school!” His voice boomed from the bedroom and I wanted to jab the needle in his throat.
“I didn’t flunk. I dropped out!”
“Whatever, Marin,” he said and I could tell he wished I would just disappear. I slammed the bathroom door shut and grabbed a towel from the rack, bunching it up into a ball and screaming bloody murder into it. Twenty minutes later, my hands had steadied enough for me to dispense the shot. It was a lot harder to stick myself with a needle than I thought. Not that I would ever admit that to the man who said I flunked med school. What a dick.
The lights in the bedroom were off when I opened the bathroom door. James was tucked in bed facing the other way. I knew he wasn’t sleeping yet. And I wasn’t sure if I could sleep that night either. I crawled under the covers and tugged them toward my side of the bed. James yanked the duvet back the other way, which started an all-out tug-of-sheets. How dare he try to steal the covers from me? I jerked the fabric hard and clutched on to it for dear life.
James huffed and jumped out of bed, stomping down the hall.
“Sleep tight!” I yelled and the only response I heard was the guest room door slam shut.
We didn’t speak to each other for almost two days. He wasn’t even in the room when the doctor performed the egg retrieval. I wondered if I’d end up with a baby and no husband, and that was not a fate I was interested in. At all. So I swallowed my hormonal pride and apologized first, telling him that I didn’t really think he was administering the shots incorrectly and it wasn’t his fault that the IUIs had not worked. He apologized for saying that I flunked out of medical school and that he only said that to hurt me because I had been such a nightmare.
Over the course of the week, we went from ten fertilized eggs to five that were viable. I was thrilled, as we were only expecting four. I knew it was a sign from the universe that we would have our baby soon. James and I thought a lot about it and decided to transfer two and freeze the other three. The morning of the embryo transfer, my phone dinged with good luck texts from my friends, including Keiko, who said she was sending me prayers and sticky dust.