Baby, Baby, I’m Taken With The Notion To Love You With The Sweetest of Devotion

On Monday, Amy and I went to see the fertility specialist in order to embark on what I hope will be a very short journey to getting me knocked up. Why a fertility specialist, you might ask? Did you take Biology? As much machismo as Ames throws around sometimes (hello, trying to break up a fight at Gasparilla), she is still a girl. So, the doctors order the swimmers and place them where they need to be. Hence, the need for a fertility specialist.

I have been charting my ovulation cycles for a year. Peeing on a stick for a year. No one ever said I lack perseverance. So, I go in to see the doctor, all impressed with the fertility chart that I have painstakingly created… to which she says, “You can read that better than I can. Do you ovulate? Good.” And we moved along. Not the kind of praise I had hoped for. Can I get some attention over here for my ability to urinate on a tiny stick??

After some chatting, the nurse practitioner lead me and Amy to an exam room, where I dutifully disrobed. The nurse left to do whatever it is that they do that keeps you waiting for at least 20 minutes for no apparent reason. Amy was a bit nervous, so she was pacing and chattering. Lots of chattering. Then she began what I like to call the “bunny/raptor” move. Envision: hands up in front like bunny paws, rodent face, and head jutting forward rhythmically. Uh huh. She has trouble acting normal when she’s nervous.* When I made her stop doing that, because she was about to drive me batty, she began ducking behind the changing curtain and peering around at me.

As I was beginning to understand what it might be like to take a 3 year old to a doctors appointment, mercifully the nurse and doctor came back in. They got me up on the table and were about to scoot me a-l-l the way down to the end of the table to prep me for the exam. At which point, Amy looked at me, said, “I think I will let you handle this,” and bolted out of the room. Sweet. Nah, baby, I am cool. I dig throwing my legs up in stirrups and letting someone dig around. No need for moral support. Bastard.

After the exam was over and doctor had left again, and Amy had asked to be let back into the room, the nurse went over some of the protocol for making sure I am a good baby carrying vessel (blood work, hormone level tests, some basic genetic screening), and then they took some blood… from Amy. Heh. No, they didn’t just get us mixed up. They had to test her for communicable diseases. So, four vials of blood later, Amy left MY doctors appointment asking where her treat was for being so good. Rarely does karmic debt collect that quickly. I think she will probably stay during the exam next time. Poor monkey.

*Know the song?

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4 Comments on “Baby, Baby, I’m Taken With The Notion To Love You With The Sweetest of Devotion”

  1. little one Says:

    Wow – well, i have seen the rabbit thing Amy does and I have to say … maybe it’s better she left 😉

    And for the song … I know it well. Shanna belts it from the shower on occasion (like every other day) with about 10% of the correct words coming out of her mouth.

    Which is better? A Rabbit, rodent gesture or an Amy Grant impostor in the shower?!

  2. Amanda Says:

    Cute. Glad it all went well.

  3. Trista Says:

    wow, big news, good luck!

  4. Trista Says:

    wow, big news, good luck!


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