the hell am I doing here? I ask myself as I sit hunched over on Dr. Grimm’s examining table. There’s no rhyme or reason to be here while Gallant is off gallivanting with his mistress of evil. How could I be so foolish to think that he only loves me? A fat scorching tear rolls down my cheek. Dr. Grimm catches sight of it before I can wipe it away.
“My dear, you must be experiencing a maternal meltdown,” says Dr. Grimm sympathetically. “Where are we on our cycle?”
Our cycle . I hate when he says that. It’s my cycle. My body. My life. And I’m not having my baby with Gallant. Ever!
“I don’t know,” I splutter. The truth is, ever since my awful miscarriage, my cycle has been totally irregular. It’s been even more erratic with my fertility treatments. A month with no period. Followed by some spotting. And then no period again—sometimes for several months. I think the stress of having a baby with Gallant has taken a toll on my body. I’m glad it’s finally coming to an end.
“Well, then, we’ll have to put you on a regiment of tribulous, mugwort, and black cohosh. It will enhance your fertility and help you get over your mood swings,” he says cheerfully.
He mixes up a vial of the awful sounding herbs. He then fills up a bag with glistening multi-color stones. “My very special Magic Birthing Stones. I want you and Gallant to take a love bath with them every night.”
A love bath? I don’t think so. I grab the bag and the vial and stuff them into my purse. As soon as I’m out of here, I’ll scatter their contents in his front yard. Maybe they’ll help some unfortunate infertile critters reproduce.
“My dear, I’ve had wonderful success with those stones. Princess Aurora would have never been born without them.”
Aurora! Why did she have to ever be born! I silently curse Dr. Grimm. I hate this sweet man for ruining my life! Rage races through my bloodstream. It takes all I’ve got not to pummel him with the stones. Or stuff them down his throat. I need to get out of here. FAST!
“Now, dear, just follow my instructions, and we’ll have a wee Gallant or mini-Jane before no time. I’ll see you back here a week from tomorrow.”
Next Saturday. The day before the opening of The Midas Museum of Art. My blood runs cold.
The cheerful doctor escorts me to the door and reminds me once again to take his “Are You Ready for a Baby” quiz. Is he kidding? It’s been sitting in my desk drawer for months. The first thing I’m going to do when I get home is tear it up and watch the shreds burn to ashes in the fireplace. I can’t wait to get out of here. And I’m never coming back.
When I lumber into the waiting room, the big fat pregnant woman is still there. She glares at me with a scornful air of superiority. That’s it!
“Cow!” I scream at her. Her mouth drops open in horror.
A familiar voice steals my attention.
“Jane!” It’s Elz, loping through the front door. Trust me, she’s never been a beauty, but today she’s glowing. She rushes over to me and gives me a big hug.
“My first check-up!” she beams.
My last. I muster up the courage to wish her good luck.
I hurry out the door. As soon as I’m outside, I toss the vial of herbs and bag of stones as far away as I can. There’s never going to be a wee Gallant or a mini-me. Never!
Chapter 10
M Y FERTILITY QUIZ BONFIRE WILL have to wait until after my appointment with Shrink, the second one this week. I feel sick. Weak. Nauseated. And worst of all, stupid. As my coach heads to her office, I ask myself over and over again: How could I have thought, even for one second, that Gallant was over Aurora? That their relationship was a mere fling? I love my father, but he was wrong. Dead wrong.
I’m on the verge of crying, but do something constructive to stifle the tears. I pull out my “ Growing List of Evidence” from my purse and add— #10: Gallant—Missed important Dr. Grimm appointment/Has lost interest in baby
“My dear, you must be experiencing a maternal meltdown,” says Dr. Grimm sympathetically. “Where are we on our cycle?”
Our cycle . I hate when he says that. It’s my cycle. My body. My life. And I’m not having my baby with Gallant. Ever!
“I don’t know,” I splutter. The truth is, ever since my awful miscarriage, my cycle has been totally irregular. It’s been even more erratic with my fertility treatments. A month with no period. Followed by some spotting. And then no period again—sometimes for several months. I think the stress of having a baby with Gallant has taken a toll on my body. I’m glad it’s finally coming to an end.
“Well, then, we’ll have to put you on a regiment of tribulous, mugwort, and black cohosh. It will enhance your fertility and help you get over your mood swings,” he says cheerfully.
He mixes up a vial of the awful sounding herbs. He then fills up a bag with glistening multi-color stones. “My very special Magic Birthing Stones. I want you and Gallant to take a love bath with them every night.”
A love bath? I don’t think so. I grab the bag and the vial and stuff them into my purse. As soon as I’m out of here, I’ll scatter their contents in his front yard. Maybe they’ll help some unfortunate infertile critters reproduce.
“My dear, I’ve had wonderful success with those stones. Princess Aurora would have never been born without them.”
Aurora! Why did she have to ever be born! I silently curse Dr. Grimm. I hate this sweet man for ruining my life! Rage races through my bloodstream. It takes all I’ve got not to pummel him with the stones. Or stuff them down his throat. I need to get out of here. FAST!
“Now, dear, just follow my instructions, and we’ll have a wee Gallant or mini-Jane before no time. I’ll see you back here a week from tomorrow.”
Next Saturday. The day before the opening of The Midas Museum of Art. My blood runs cold.
The cheerful doctor escorts me to the door and reminds me once again to take his “Are You Ready for a Baby” quiz. Is he kidding? It’s been sitting in my desk drawer for months. The first thing I’m going to do when I get home is tear it up and watch the shreds burn to ashes in the fireplace. I can’t wait to get out of here. And I’m never coming back.
When I lumber into the waiting room, the big fat pregnant woman is still there. She glares at me with a scornful air of superiority. That’s it!
“Cow!” I scream at her. Her mouth drops open in horror.
A familiar voice steals my attention.
“Jane!” It’s Elz, loping through the front door. Trust me, she’s never been a beauty, but today she’s glowing. She rushes over to me and gives me a big hug.
“My first check-up!” she beams.
My last. I muster up the courage to wish her good luck.
I hurry out the door. As soon as I’m outside, I toss the vial of herbs and bag of stones as far away as I can. There’s never going to be a wee Gallant or a mini-me. Never!
Chapter 10
M Y FERTILITY QUIZ BONFIRE WILL have to wait until after my appointment with Shrink, the second one this week. I feel sick. Weak. Nauseated. And worst of all, stupid. As my coach heads to her office, I ask myself over and over again: How could I have thought, even for one second, that Gallant was over Aurora? That their relationship was a mere fling? I love my father, but he was wrong. Dead wrong.
I’m on the verge of crying, but do something constructive to stifle the tears. I pull out my “ Growing List of Evidence” from my purse and add— #10: Gallant—Missed important Dr. Grimm appointment/Has lost interest in baby
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