Inconceivable! (42 page)

He grabbed the glass of water on the nightstand and took a long drink. “This baby, who doesn’t even exist, controls us. He’s always around. It’s like he’s waiting just off stage. And nothing I do can bring him into the light. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it. Sometimes, I hate him. I’d go to the fucking ends of the earth for him, but I hate him for what he’s done to us.”

“What do you mean, ‘done to us?’”

“The thought of what you’re going to do to your body for the IVF cycle is killing me. I hate watching you go through this for me and my family, for the whole country.”

“News Flash: I’m not going through all these hoops to get pregnant for your family or the country. Even if we were just Joe and Mary Smith, I’d be this intent on making it happen. I don’t care about conceiving the future king of Toulene. I want to be the mother of your children.” I stroked his hair and face.

He kissed me, placing his hands on my cheeks before leaving the bedroom.

I stayed on my back in bed. “Fine, God. I’ll try to pray because I feel like I’m being punished or taught a lesson, and I can’t take it anymore. Neither can John.” I clenched my fists. “Please, please make me a mother. And if you can’t or won’t, stop this pain for both of us by just erasing the desire for children from our hearts and minds. Take it away. Take it away!”

I wiped at the tears that oozed down my temples.

Prince John and Hatty Search for Answers to Fertility Problem

By Clarence Watson

August 3, 2015

Prince John and Duchess Hatty are taking an extended tour of the United States, but only after reportedly visiting a doctor of Chinese medicine in Toulene for acupuncture treatments.

“It’s clear the desperation is setting in if they’re looking at alternative therapies to help them get pregnant,” said, Nic Capucine, a longtime observer of the royal family.

During their visit to the states, the couple will spend a week in Maui, and then attend the wedding of two friends in Iowa. Next, they’ll travel to Missouri where Prince John will spend several weeks in St. Louis meeting with local and state officials to learn about the environmental problems that led to the closure of the lead smelter in Herculaneum, Missouri.

A press release from the palace about the couple’s visit to America said the prince hopes he can gain insights from Missouri officials as Toulene’s government considers what to do with the smelter near Kortrijk. There are still occasional protests meant to highlight claims that pollution from the facility is causing health problems for local residents.

Representatives for Prince John and Duchess Hatty had no comment on reports of the couple’s ongoing infertility struggles.

fter the acupuncturist came to the townhouse we were renting in St Louis, John and I headed to Zia’s. It was a lovely little place on The Hill, a neighborhood renowned for its Italian restaurants. The owner let us have a private room anytime we wanted to dine there.

When we finished eating, I checked my phone. “It’s time. Do you mind if I do it here at the table?”

“Of course not,” John said, and he pulled out his phone.

He was reading a book by Dr. Matt Marche, the man overseeing our IVF cycle. It explained the process in detail. There was a list of the drugs we’d use to suppress my body’s natural cycle so we could accelerate the growth of follicles on my ovaries. The book outlined the surgery I’d have to remove the eggs from the follicles so Dr. Marche could work his petri dish magic. He’d inject John’s sperm directly into each egg. If the eggs and sperm fell in love and stuck together, the doctor would then transfer the resulting embryos from the petri dish to my uterus. All the while, I’d continue injecting myself with the medications that kept my body on track to nurture these little lives.
Freaking amazing.

I removed the “pen” from its case and made sure I had the appropriate dose remaining. I twisted the top and set it on the table. We’d had a private class with a nurse to learn how to do all the injections for the cycle. I pinched the flesh on my abdomen, inserted the needle at the end of the pen, and released the skin. Then, I pushed the top down until it clicked.

As I removed the thin needle, I looked up and saw John watching me. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.” He reached over and squeezed my hand.

“If that’s true, then grow a beard.”

Since we’d been in the states, he’d gone a day here and there without shaving, just long enough to achieve a nice five o’clock shadow. I hadn’t thought it was possible for him to be any sexier until I saw his scruffy face.

“You know what? With all the stuff you’re doing to your body, growing a beard is the least I can do to be a supportive husband.” He handed me the small round bandage to cover the place where I’d inserted the needle.

“Are you serious? Don’t tease me. Ozarks girls totally dig beards.”

“I’m serious. No more shaving until the end of our two-week wait after the embryo transfer.”

“I’m holding you to it, mister!” I leaned in and kissed his lips. “That’ll feel different when your beard comes in. So sexy. And speaking of beards, I still can’t believe Sam had a beard for their wedding!”

“Plato grew up in Iowa. Maybe he likes beards too. Have you heard from them since they left for Ethiopia?”

“Plato sent me a photo of Sam on top of a building. He said they were installing a new roof on an orphanage.”

“Celebrating their love by showing love to others. It makes perfect sense.” John picked up the needle pen from the table and handed it to me.

“You know, they want me to come with them to Ethiopia sometime.

“I certainly wouldn’t want you going there once you’re pregnant. Maybe after Baby King’s a bit older.”

Before we left the sanctuary of our little room at Zia’s, I opened my large purse and placed the needle in the bright red sharps disposal bin I had to carry with me.

“I’m glad I caught you before your hot date,” I said into the phone. I was elated that Tilda had finally found someone who made her swoon.

“Please. We’re literally going for coffee. Boring.” The delight in her voice betrayed her words.

“Well, I always knew you’d find a man who wasn’t intimidated by your beauty and success.”

“Okay. Enough talk about me and Kellan. How are things going there?”

“So far, we’re on track. They had to increase the dosage for my ovary stimulating drugs because my follicles weren’t growing as fast or as big as they wanted. I go back for an ultrasound tomorrow to check for progress.”

I left out the part about how, during the first two ultrasounds, the technician had failed to find any measurable follicles. Without big follicles, Dr. Marche would cancel the cycle.

“Did your parents come to St. Louis?”

“No. We’re planning to visit them after the embryo transfer. I just want to focus on taking care of myself and being with John.”

“So, have you told him about your conversation with the queen?”

“Not yet. I just don’t know how to bring it up.”

“How about we hang up right now, and you walk over to him and say, ‘Hey! Your grandmother says she’s going to order an annulment of our marriage if we can’t get pregnant. What are you going to do about it?’”

“Like it’s that easy.”

“It is. Didn’t you learn how to ask tough questions in one of your journalism classes?”

“Okay, I’ll do it. But only because I can’t stand having the weight of this on me.”

“And the stress could impact the success of the cycle. I’m going to let you go. We’ll talk again after you’ve got those little babies nesting in your uterus. Love you! Miss you!”

After I hung up, I walked downstairs. John was running on the treadmill we had set up in the spare bedroom.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Of course.” He kept running without slowing down.

“Okay. Well, before we left Toulene…”

“Sorry. Could you hand me that towel?”

I grabbed it from the bed and slung it across the side of the machine.

“Now what were you going to tell me?” He scrutinized the meters on the treadmill’s control panel as he wiped the sweat from his neck.

“Never mind. We’ll talk about it later. But let me ask you something else. Would you ever consider adoption?”

He kept jogging with his eyes on the digital display. “I’ve never considered it because it’s not possible. We have strict laws in Toulene about the line of succession, including a restriction that says only a natural-born son is considered an heir.”

“But how can you just dismiss the idea? I grew up with a girl who was adopted from China. Her parents also adopted a girl from Korea. They were such a sweet family.”

“I’m sure they were. And adoption is beautiful but it’s not for us.” He stopped the treadmill, wiped his face, kissed me on the forehead, and walked out of the room.

John had just raised the stakes for our IVF cycle. I had held adoption in the back of my mind as the ultimate Plan B if we couldn’t get pregnant. Now, that wasn’t even an option. I went to our bedroom upstairs, opened my laptop, and began typing a long post to the women on the infertility discussion boards. I needed to vent.