Probably one of the hardest and most frustrating realizations about the whole IVF process is knowing that you can’t make a baby on your own. That one intimate act between two people can’t create a third. I mean, in most amorous situations, you’re not inviting a team of doctors and nurses into your bedroom. Unless you’re into that sort of thing, or there are costumes and role-playing involved and, hey, no judgment here. Just saying, the usual equation sums to one and one is two.
But, not in our case. For us, it takes two…plus at least three reproductive endocrinologists, four nurses, an urologist, seven-or-so phlebotomists, an anesthesiologist, a student observer, three pharmacists, an insurance liaison, an embryologist, a geneticist, and numerous receptionists who know me by sight when I walk in the door. You know the saying, “it takes a village”? Well, we’re creating our own damn commune over at UConn Medical Center. A regular modern family.
Not that it’s all that bad. When my husband and I are at home, after we’ve left the doctors behind for the day, when we’re left alone to administer the hormones, give the injections, swallow the medications, dream about what life would be like with a baby…it’s just the two of us. Me and him. It’s not the most romantic, or sexy, or playful of situations, but it’s a bonding experience nonetheless. We’re in this together, like we always have been. Maybe someday soon, when the stars are aligned, the time is right and our math properly adds up, two plus twenty will equal three.