Halfway There Read Free Page B

sent to the clinic. Because she had been so nice, I decided not to start an argument with her about Catholic morality. She merely worked there. Instead, I asked her to explain the procedure. I figured Ellen and I would work out the details of the sperm transportation later. The procedure soundedrelatively simple. I had to determine when I was ovulating, using an over-the-counter ovulation kit. When I was ovulating, all I had to do was call in, and they would have me come to the clinic. Yes, my partner could come. She could be in the room when they slipped the stuff in. There were two different procedures, but I didn’t pay close enough attention to understand which one was which. She wasn’t talking about a turkey baster, so I wasn’t worried.
    â€œOkay. If you want us to work with you, we’ll need to fill out a few more forms. I have another client scheduled, so if you’ll just go to the next room, I’ll have my interns finish up.”
    I walked to the next room and waited. Pretty soon a young man and a young woman, both all smiles and professionalism, walked in. Neither one could have been older than thirty. They sat down and asked me if I wanted anything to drink. Sure, I thought, but what I want isn’t normally served in a doctor’s office. On the heels of that, I thought ahead about being dry for nine months. If you’ll pardon the pun, I found the idea quite sobering.
    They reviewed my form, then started to take my medical history. It all seemed to be going nicely. I was feeling pretty good. I could do this.
    â€œNow, Mrs. Elliot, how long have you and your partner been trying to get pregnant?”
    I stared at the young man. His eyes were direct and honest. I looked at him a moment longer, considering. At last I said, “Doctor, my partner and I could try forever, but it just ain’t gonna happen.” I smiled trying to show him I was teasing.
    All the color drained from the poor kid’s face. His olive complexion went ivory. I laughed trying to lighten the moment. “It’s okay,” I soothed. “If we could do it the usual way I wouldn’t be here.” He forced a little grin back at me. It took about fifteen more minutes until we were finally finished. I met Ellen in the lobby.
    â€œHow’d it go?” she asked.
    â€œOkay, I guess. They were nice. We’ve already got our first assignment.”
    â€œReally? What’s that?”
    â€œI’ve got to figure out when I ovulate.”
    â€œThat should be pretty easy. You’re always complaining about PMS.”
    We picked up the ovulation kit at Walgreens. Three months later we picked up another one, and four months after that we were back again. The verdict was in. I didn’t ovulate.
    It didn’t matter what time of the month I peed on that stupid stick, it remained stubbornly unchanged. I counted days. I tried different kits. We even stopped having sex for a couple of months on the outside chance it was throwing off my cycle. That didn’t work, so we tried to have regular sex thinking that might make the little eggs drop. While we had a lot of fun, it didn’t change the test results.
    One morning as I was in the bathroom trying to hold that stupid little stick steady between my legs, Ellen knocked at the door.
    â€œHow’s it going in there? I don’t hear anything.”
    â€œIt’s not easy to pee on command, you know.”
    â€œTry running some water.”
    â€œJust give me a minute.” About that time a little trickle ran down my leg and onto my fingers. “Shit.”
    â€œWhat? Are you sure you’re holding that thing right?”
    I looked down at the stick as I finished peeing over it and the rest of my hand. Was there a wrong way to pee on it?
    â€œI think I’m peeing on it just fine. Thank you very much. I peed on it so well, in fact, it’s all over my hands at the moment.”
    â€œWhat side did you pee