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Two Months Later . . .
“Are you sure, Gloria?”
“Katie, I’m sure. You’re not pregnant.”
I watched as my physician went over to the sink to freshen up after my appointment was over.
“Gloria, what’s wrong with me? Eric and I have been trying for two months now, and we’re still not pregnant.”
I’ve been to my OBGYN more times than I would care to count with her telling me each time I’m still not pregnant.
“Katie, it’s still too early to tell if there is anything wrong or any specific diagnosis to place on you.”
“But it’s been two months. I’ve been taking everything from the Clomid you prescribed down to FertilAid. And I cling to that stupid ovulation kit more than I cling to my husband, and I’m still not pregnant. I’ve done everything, including a few home remedies I read on the internet, so I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want you to overexert yourself or stress your body, Katie. I only want you to stick to what I prescribe or recommend. What you read off the internet, or some home remedy is not going to make you become pregnant magically. Sometimes the wait to become pregnant can be more than an anxious couple bargains for, but unfortunately, it can be a part of the process.” She dried her hands and threw the paper towel into the small trashcan. “Have you ever thought the issue might be with your husband? We can run a few preliminary tests just to see if the fertility problems lie with him. That could potentially save a lot of time.”
I caught myself staring into space when I asked, “What if it’s not him, Gloria? What if he’s fine, and so am I?” I looked at her with what felt like despondency covering my body. “What if there isn’t a problem at all? What if we just can’t get pregnant?”
“Katie, I don’t want you to jump to the end of the process before it even starts. This is not the ice age; if there is a reason why you’re not getting pregnant, we’ll find it. I’ll get to the bottom of the issue, if there is one, and then we can go from there.” Her words soothed me. “Trust me.” She grabbed my hand off my lap. “You’re in good hands.”
“I want this, Gloria . . . I want my baby.”
“And you and your husband will have your baby soon.”
I asked, “What about a fertility specialist?”
“That is defiantly an option.”
“And then what?” I was asking questions probably faster than she cared to answer.
“If I recommend you to a fertility specialist after . . . ,” she emphasized after, “you and . . . ,” she emphasized, and “Eric has been through all the fertility tests I administer, the specialist will then get you started on ovulation-inducing drugs. If you’re still not pregnant, then we look into IVF. With the In-Vitro process, your egg cells are fertilized by your husband’s sperm outside the body. But Katie, IVF is a major treatment in infertility when all other methods of assisted reproductive technology have failed.”
This cannot be happening. Ovulation inducing drugs . . . In Vitro fertilization . . . What’s next? Why can’t Eric and I just reproduce the old fashion way? Trust me; we’ve tried. I don’t want to have to go through all of what Gloria is suggesting, but I’ll do whatever it takes to give my husband a baby.
“Don’t worry, Katie. Everything is going to be fine.”
I trust you, Gloria . . .
“Now, before we move any further, I want to get your husband in here.” She pulled a small electronic scheduler from her coat pocket. “When can the two of you come back in?”
I smiled at Gloria as she scheduled our appointment for her first opening. She handed me a card with the date she scribbled on the font that read the day after tomorrow.
“Katie, I’ll see you two in here Wednesday morning at nine o’clock.” I nodded. “Do you have any questions for me?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m just ready to get home and talk to Eric. We’ll see you Wednesday morning.”
This was finally going to happen. Eric and I are going to have our baby. I have the best OBGYN in Baltimore, so I’m confident once she gets Eric in her office, we’ll be one step closer.
Two Hours Later . . .
“Katie, no, I’m not doing it. I’m not going to some damn OGBYN!” were the exact words that shot out of Eric’s mouth when I told him about the appointment with Gloria.
He flipped out on me, telling me I was dead wrong for making an appointment without talking to him first. He yelled and shouted, not letting me get a word in before he hung up on me. When I called him back to yell and shout at him, his voicemail picked up. An hour later, when he finally called me back—after he apologized for the way he spoke to me—he immediately suggested adoption. Even after I told him we had so many other options left before we even considered adoption, he still heavily suggested that be our next step. He not only suggested adoption, but according to him, he’s already contacted an agency and even attended a few meetings to get the process started.
I feel ill whenever I think of adopting someone else’s baby. In my opinion, that’s like going into a stranger’s closet and putting on their underwear. I want my own panties and my own baby, damnit! Am I wrong for that? We’ve experienced a setback, but that doesn’t mean we need to run to an adoption agency. Eric and I are two young, vibrant, healthy people. I’m not some over-the-hill hag trying to reproduce, nor am I married to one. According to Gloria, we just need a little more time and a few more tests ran, that’s all. We can still have a baby.
Eric is the one that said now was the time for us to start a family, so I don’t understand why he’s acting this way.
As I rode home from my yoga class, I sigh as I make a right on President Street. I just want to go home and find Eric there waiting for me, screw his brains out until the sun comes up, pee on a stick, wait for the plus sign, and awaken my sleeping husband to tell him “We’re pregnant!” I’ll keep my fingers crossed, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
I looked at the navigation screen as my cell phone starts to ring. I looked up at the road then back at the screen. It was Eric. I pressed talk before saying, “Hello.”
“Hey, Katie, where are you?”
“I’m driving home; I went to a yoga class at seven.”
“That’s good, babe. Katie, listen, again, I’m sorry for the way I reacted today. I was out of line.” His voice started to perk up when he said, “I saw him today. Katie, I saw our son today.”
I thought, did I just hear him right?
“Did you hear me, Katie? Our counselor, Mrs. Moss, let me see our little boy today.”
I listened as Eric’s cheerful voice came through the Bluetooth.
He laughed when he said, “He looks just like you.” I didn’t find the humor. “He’s so tiny, Katie . . . a tiny little chocolate drop. I can’t wait until we pick him up!”
I huffed through his enthusiasm, “Eric, what are you doing? What are you saying?” I quickly said, “You know it’s not too late,” before he started back up over some adopted black baby.
His voice changed when he asked, “It’s not too late for what?”
“We don’t have to see Gloria, Eric. We don’t have to go back to her practice. We don’t have to follow up with any of her referrals. We can go someplace else. Somewhere you choose. It’s not too late for us to have our own baby. We can keep trying.”
“Katie, you listen to me, and you listen real good because I’m not repeating the shit. We WILL adopt! I’ve already taken care of it.”
“But Eric, it couldn’t hurt for both of us to go see a doctor. We should be doing whatever it takes to have our own baby before we consider adopting. I don’t want that, especially when there is a chance we can still get pregnant.”
Eric’s voice sent chills through me. “Did you hear a word I just said? We-will-adopt! If you fight me on this, Katie, I’ll leave you in that house, and you will never see me again!”
Call Ended flashed on the colorful screen. Eric had once again threatened me right before he hung up. Usually, I would burst out into tears, but I think I’m all cried out.
My rigid body was numb as I drove down Martin Luther King Boulevard. I just didn’t understand this...why was Eric so against us getting pregnant? He’s sneaking around to some adoption agency, but why? Why can’t my husband just be a normal husband that does normal things like impregnating his wife after he decided it was time for a baby.
The call ended close to two minutes ago, but I can still hear his intimidating threats loud and clear: If you fight me on this, Katie, I’ll leave you in that house, and you will never see me again!
I thought, now what? as I drove the rest of the ride home in silence.