I went to the clinic to meet with my doctor and pick up my hormone shots. The doctor seemed generally a bit cold. He told me that there was nothing I could do to increase my chances of getting pregnant, other than positive thinking. He then smiled strangely, as if smiling wasn’t an everyday occurrence. As if, he only smiled in this type of an instance.
It was funny and a little unsettling, but I’ve opted for positive thinking.
At least he didn’t say relax.
Well meaning people say to relax all the time. The little stick figure in my head violently punches them repeatedly in the face while I smile and nod, knowing they have good intentions. If relaxing is a criterion for something, I’m unlikely to sign up. If consistent effort and hard work is at play, put me at the top of the list.
Eventually after mapping out an estimate of my schedule for the next couple weeks, he sent me to the nurse’s office. The nurse, I liked immediately. This was not her first rodeo. She is the kind of lady I want on my team. An Eastern Bloc type of mom with no nonsense. I could feel a mutual understanding that we were surrounded by ineptitude, but that she would make sure my ship stayed on course.
She demonstrated the procedure to me, while my translator, whose entire outfit I have pinned at one time or another, made sense of her words. It was clear that the nurse had zero confidence in my translator and made her explain it to me several times.
In all fairness, I was a little distracted by my translator’s vibrant outfit amidst the stoic environment. I would totally wear that to a bar. I wonder how comfortable it is to wear a leather jacket indoors? I want to ask her where she got her shoes. Maybe it was the nerves about willingly giving myself a shot that had my mind wandering. Luckily she translated everything several times and my trusty friend Jenny was there to witness the procedure.
// Insert a vile. Dial it to the correct number. Insert a needle. Lean forward and relax my stomach. Pinch a “muffin top” (her words) and insert the needle two inches to the side of my belly button and once inch down. Push the pen until it won’t push anymore. Do this every night, between 6pm-8pm. \\
I looked at the nurse. She looked at me. The gravity of the situation passed between us. The translator mentioned something about YouTube videos, but I didn’t break my gaze with the nurse. We both exhaled a small sigh. A deep resolve and understanding that despite the incompetence of others, we’ve got this.
I shook her hand. It felt like we took this first monumental step together. She made me feel like everything was going to be okay. I felt grateful to have found someone who gave me strength and made feel grounded.
She was the type of person who would never tell someone to relax.