FYI – this post talks about “lady issues,” so if you happen to be my dad… maybe don’t read it!
Maybe you know that our Japan trip wasn’t just an amazing adventure for me and Rachel. We had been calling it our babymoon – the last hurrah of unfettered spending before all of our money gets funneled into my uterus. Interestingly, we spent a lot less than we thought we would which was a pleasant surprise. But now it’s full steam ahead into reproductive medicine!
These are the two candles we lit in prayer in Koyasan. I was praying for family with Rachel. Who knows what Rachel's candle was for. She's a nicer person than I am, so maybe it was something like an end to world hunger. Or it was that the next vending machine we pass would have Red Bull in it. She's a wild card, that Rachel. Anyway...
Medicine in general is overwhelming to me. Does anyone else feel this way? I am A-OK with seeing my primary care physician once a year. She’s adorable. But it starts to feel complicated to me when I have to go elsewhere to get my heart checked out and find a dermatologist and have blood drawn. Adding Dr. Babymaker into the mix increases the confusion.
The last time we caught up about my adventures in pregnancy I mentioned that I had to see if I had a genetic heart condition before my doctor would knock me up. I had an awesome time at Penn Cardiology running on a treadmill hooked up to an ECG machine until I suddenly got my period all over my jeans (the damn thing is so irregular that I never know when it is coming). I couldn’t stop running until the test was over. Once my heart rate hit the target I came off the treadmill covered in blood, laid down on the exam table, and had my chest covered in ultrasound gel. The whole thing was fit for a YM magazine “most mortifying moment” submission. The bad news is that I can never un-live that moment. The good news is that I do not have a genetic heart condition, and the baby doctor says full steam ahead.
Did I think about just kidnapping that adorable little girl running toward us on the right of the photo and calling it a day? Yes, yes, I did. It would save us thousands of dollars and she seemed like a kickass little girl. She was totally beating her brother in some sort of rock-paper-scissor game, and she was loving it. Needless to say, I didn't go through with it.
Without having resorted to kidnapping, the next step – now that we know the good doctor will knock us up – is buying sperm. You guys, picking out a sperm donor is super stressful, and it will be its own blog post. In the meantime, I promise that I will post about our Japan trip and other adventures of a queer Martha.