By: Rosy Barren
I couldn’t go to my wife’s doctor’s appointment. I had an event to attend for work, so I waited eagerly by my cell phone to find out how many follicles she had for our IVF retrieval. The phone finally rang- DR. F flashed across the screen. His voice was quiet and soft “Well, she has one follicle.”
One? I don’t know if you know anything about IVF but ONE doesn’t cut it. ONE is absurd for being pumped with meds for several days, ONE is what any woman can create any day. My wife was quiet on the other end. “So, we are canceling the retrieval” he says, breaking the silence.
He goes on to explain that he thinks given the results with my wife, we should do one last try with me. I tell him that we’re tired and broke and can’t afford to go on, that even though our insurance covers the procedure, the meds are 5 thousand dollars and we can’t afford that. There was a silence and a sniffle from my girl in the background. “I’ll give you the drugs,” Dr. F. says.
“What? What do you mean?”
“I have some in my fridge left over from another patient that got pregnant. I’ll cover the drugs. You’re not done yet…we’re not done yet. One last try.”
I could barely drive, my eyes were flooded, I pulled my car to the side of the road.
“Are you sure?” I say “I thought I was a lost cause at this point.”
“Yes, one more try.”
My wife says nothing on the other end.
“Talk about it and call me in a few days, think about it seriously though.”
He hangs up.
I picture her sitting in his office on the green leather chair without me there while I, dressed up for a cocktail party for work, sit in my car without her.