A year ago today, a fluish Sea and I set out to the fertility clinic on a cold morning.
We stopped to help a man named Tom who had collapsed on the pavement, before heading into the building that had housed our three previous attempts at babymaking. With the aid of an app, I pointed myself towards Mecca and took a sip of holy water before following the ever-rushed Dr. Text into a clinic room. As Call Me Maybe played over the radio and we talked about conception stories, Dr. Text performed our fourth IUI and first try with our second donor.
A year later, I’ve seen Tom once, walking across the same pavement where he fell. Dr. Text has moved back to his home country. Call Me Maybe has been replaced on radio stations by more popular songs. The holy water sits at the back of a cupboard, in case of future need. And Sea and I sit in our warm home on a quiet evening, with our 12 week old daughter sleeping beside us.
What a year it has been.