November 10, 2014 - 5:34 p.m.
Baby Entry
It occurs to me,
as I look down into the frying pan
that my egg isn't just an egg anymore
when we were in shoppers drug mart and got the call
i knew the second her face changed
it was the 'surge phone call'
arms full of oral medicine droppers,
pre-natal vitamins
ironic 'sippy cups'
aka specimen containers -
they'll make a great story one day...
"that sippy cup is part of your creation story"
and body wash, razors
she said, 'I shaved for the nurse'
nice, I replied,
she'll always be my sandpaper legs girl
We put the items into the basket
and were giddy as we made our purchases
home to break the news.
Arsenal is playing.
oh, no. if they lose, will it affect things?
He says the tank is low.
He followed our advice about not letting the goods sit.
Now we've surprised him with the suddenness of 1.9 and the call.
The awkwardness ensues.
We set up. The cell phone buzzes. Trade off.
We avoid each other. I'm markedly more disturbed than I anticipate. It's just been SO long since I've seen sperm. Not what I was expecting. My face gives me away.
'you should see your face' she says, lying beside me, hips propped up on a pillow.
I am trying not to gag, and we're both laughing at this process. No air bubbles. woah, air bubbles. Shit. Worse the second time. Yellow cup first time.
I take away to tools to clean in 'very hot water'. I'm preoccupied with protecting our pillows and stuff from ... stuff.
The big yellow house robe is the new hospital style draping robe.
I come back. 'I'm done.' Hitashi, out. That was fast.
We lie beside each other, watching Brooklyn, 99. ( i think) and the timer is rolling on the laptop and the phone
and my mind
holy shit. this could be happening.
right
now
did it work?
Are you pregnant yet, I smile. She has a nap and we repeat this whole crazy process.
Early wake-up call. Already awake. I'm nervous. Apparently I'm having dreams and saying out loud 'Don't worry, [her brother] we'll explain everything. Dreaming of the shoe on the other foot.
And how we'll have to do this all over again. Maybe it will be easier with silver.
And I'm back to making eggs, which are no longer just eggs.
And things get weird like making sure I offer him dinner,
it's the least we could do.
Avoiding eye contact, which makes it weird, to avoid it being weird.
So much less weird when it's just a conversation and not actual biological material.
And I'm curling my hair, putting on lipstick, brushing my teeth, waiting the required twenty, thinking how I need to pick up tampons for me and ... maybe a pregnancy test.
Running late for work, I pop in to do my part, make a face and kiss my wife goodbye. Maybe this is the weirdest thing in the world.
I hand her the vibrator. See you tonight.
Love you... we parrot, with a pregnant pause at the end.
I call her from the car. Excited. Did it happen? How do you feel? It's like waiting for Santa Claus.
She isn't done yet, but laughs, she lets me go.
We talk later and the strangest part is realizing that I'm always thinking about it. I'm hyper aware of this thing that nobody, but my student-teacher, knows (mostly because she's like my stream-of-consciousness sounding-board... trapped listening to every stupid, or brilliant, thing that comes out of my mouth). She seems to find it pretty amusing.
We talk later. She's the only one left from her company that hasn't been let go. Our luck in some departments is outrageous. And we are secretly, not secretly, doing this thing that is so intimate, yet public, that may, or may not be happening right now.
I'm going to get her a basket full of pregnancy tests ... and tampax. And flowers. Either way. Baby, I love you.
