by Jamie Knight
He was looking at me intently. I shook my head, mumbled “sorry,” and told myself to get to the point. The medical point. Because this doctor wasn’t here to listen to the soap opera that had been my life. He didn’t care about my dating history; he only cared about why I was here.
“It’s fine,” he said, nodding his head gently. “Continue.”
Perhaps the look had only been one of curiosity or astonishment.
“So, anyway, instead of waiting on Mr. Right, this imaginary guy who may never show up, I decided I’d rather take advantage of what I do have: a ticking biological clock. I say ‘ticking’ because as far as I know, and according to the tests my regular ob/gyn made me take before she would even agree to refer me to a fertility specialist – um, the Larchmont one, before you – I still have a chance at having a baby. So, basically, all that’s missing is the guy, and from what I understand, your fine establishment has a way to hook me up with what I’m missing. Is that right?”
Dr. Roberts smiled sweetly, putting his large but gentle hand on my shoulder.
“That’s right. We can definitely help you. Now, have you raised children before, is the next question? No step children, little siblings, maybe nephews or nieces?”
“No, none” I admitted, slowly shaking my head. I was an only child and my life had been surprisingly bereft of little children, which may have been why I felt the need to have one so badly. “But I know that I will be a great mom. I just know it. I simply haven’t found anyone that I want to be with.”
“Well, if you lean back again, I can do my part to make your dreams come true.”
He held something that looked like a turkey baster filled with white liquid.
Sperm.
It was the sperm he had chuckled about earlier.
But I told myself not to think about that.
Instead, I leaned back and closed my eyes while he did his thing.
“Now, if this doesn’t work, we can try again, but you’ll have to set up another appointment,” he was saying. “And don’t worry. If several attempts don’t work, we can move on to the IVF were going to do, anyway. It’s good that you are on the hormones, to increase the number of eggs you release, since that will help your chances with this procedure, and you’re already on track for IVF if we do need to try that next.”
I looked down at Dr. Roberts, who was focusing between my legs, and I couldn’t help but notice once again how attractive he was. His dark, curly hair covered his head like a mop. The masculine scent of his cologne permeated the room and added to his appeal.
Stop it, I told myself.
The last thing that I need is a schoolgirl crush complicating what is supposed to be a simple procedure at the doctor’s office.
And not just any procedure. The one that had the potential to give me what I had been wanting so badly.
But, the more that I told myself not to be drawn to him, the more I found it harder not to be.
Chapter Three
Ted
The alarm on my front door chirped loudly as I walked into my home, my sanctuary.
I barely stopped to turn it off before making a beeline straight for my home gym. I’d had it built on as an addition to my spectacular home a couple years ago. And I definitely put it to good use.
“You aren’t even going to use it,” teased Ron, my old college roommate, on one of his visits to my new house shortly after the gym had been built. “It’s just going to be like your gym membership that’s collecting dust in your wallet.”
I winced, thinking of the gym membership that I had never even used. But that was because I was always busy working. And having a gym at home would help me stay fit because there wasn’t a commute.
When I got into the gym, I put loud rock music on the stereo and warmed up on the treadmill. Even though I knew that staying fit was part of a healthy lifestyle (and it was something that I constantly preached to my patients), my visit to the gym that day was less about fitness and more about blowing off steam.
For some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about Anne McAllister, the new patient that I had seen today. She was incredibly beautiful, especially when she smiled. I kept finding myself cracking jokes, just to try to see her smile that seemed to cover her porcelain-like, freckled face.
Her green, almond-shaped eyes had a light in them that I had never seen before. And I all but melted when she would look at me.
I couldn’t deny I loved her curves. I had always been a sucker for wide hips and full breasts. And even though I knew I shouldn’t be thinking of my patient like this, as a red-blooded male, I couldn’t help but think how I would love to bend her over and grab a hold of her round ass cheeks while I fucked her.
I told myself not to have such thoughts.
Plus, what I particularly liked about Anne was that she was as smart as a whip. I could tell by the way she formulated her words, selecting them carefully so that they almost had the lilt of songs.
I pressed a button on the treadmill to pick up the pace.
One thing I couldn’t understand, though, was with so much beauty, brains, personality, and an excellent career to boot, why didn’t she had a boyfriend or husband that she could have a baby with?
Surely, she could have had anyone that she wanted.
Or was there something that I was missing?
I was starting to break into a sweat and my breathing was becoming labored. I tried to focus on my workout more and on Anne McAllister less.
This wasn’t like me, to fantasize about patients. I had always been very professional, in spite of the nature of my work. But, for some reason now, my mind just kept going back to Anne.
I had spent so many years building my career and reputation. And as I looked around at what my buddies liked to jokingly refer to as my “man castle,” I knew that it had all paid off. I was a rich doctor whose claim to fame was starting up and running successful fertility clinics, and who was known for bringing back a technique that could work instead of or along with newer technological methods.
I had done countless speaking engagements, being interviewed and even teaching about IVF to those in the field as well as to students. I was well known and respected as one of the top doctors in the industry.
And it was largely due to my professionalism. I had seen other doctors come and go because they couldn’t keep their dicks in their pants and would get involved with a patient romantically. Or even just sexually.
So, I knew firsthand that getting involved with a patient would spell death to my practice and career. In fact, I usually wouldn’t even toy with the idea of dating a patient.
But, as hard as I tried to dismiss the thought, I kept thinking about Anne. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to go out with her on a date. I just knew that she would be interesting and sexy and…
What was wrong with me?
I had all the reasons in the world why I shouldn’t be thinking of her, but it seemed like she was all that I could think about at all. It was almost like I couldn’t help myself.
I pushed another button on the treadmill and slowed down to a halt. It didn’t seem like working out was helping me with distracting my mind. I walked back down the dark hallway to the living room, grabbed the TV remote, and sunk down into my leather couch.
Then I started flipping through the channels. But nothing was really catching my attention.
This was why I really didn’t watch much TV, I thought to myself, tossing the remote aside, then rubbing my temples and closing my eyes. Even with my eyes closed, I just kept picturing Anne’s face.
Is this really what all these years of being a bachelor has done to me?
One visit from a pretty woman at the practice and she’s all I can think about?
But I knew that wasn’t it. There had been tons of beautiful women who walked through our doors before and I had never had this reaction. In fact, I often found comfort in the fact that I was a bachelor because it had been my experience that dating was often
more trouble than it was worth.
Some women seemed to be like vampires when it came to dating rich doctors. They always seemed to want to rush to the altar or, at the very least, seemed to want me to get them pregnant with one of my… what had Anne called it… my samples?
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud now that I thought again about how she’d said that. My laughter bounced off the walls of my house and landed back in my ears, sounding like tinny raucous. Anne had been so cute without even trying to be.
I had never been one for relationships. I was a player, through and through. Plus, most of the time, it was just easier and less trouble to focus on work. I’d had a lot of hook ups in the past but they were explicitly no-strings-attached relationships.
Still, meeting Anne made me feel a pang of something that I rarely ever felt: loneliness.
Sometimes, I wished that I had someone with whom I could share my joy and pain, a partner in crime, even though I usually quickly pushed those thoughts aside because I enjoyed a quick date and hook up instead of committed relationships.
But, for the first time almost ever, I started wondering what it might be like to raise a family with someone.
With Anne.
What the fuck, dude? I chided myself.
You just met her.
And she’s your patient.
I stood up quickly, starting to become afraid of my own thoughts.
Snap out of it, Ted, I now yelled at myself.
My career hadn’t taken off because of daydreams and fantasies. It was the result of hard work and discipline. All of which could be flushed down the toilet in a moment’s notice if I kept letting my teenage-like, lust-filled imagination run wild.
I slowly sat back down, took a deep breath in, and blew it all out. Being a single guy, I knew that loneliness happened, but the payoff was so great: money, an amazing career, and basically any woman for a night that I wanted to have.
I just had long ago decided that I value my peace more than anything else. It was a lot easier that way, in the long run.
Here I was only thinking about a woman and was about to commit career suicide in my thoughts.
There was no need for all that drama.
I would just keep focusing on work and leave love and relationships to everyone else.
Chapter Four
Anne
Nearly a month later, I was back at Dr. Roberts’ office and I felt a little sullen as I changed into the gown that the nurse had given me before she left the room.
For some reason, I just knew that this process was going to solve my problems and give me the happy family that I wanted. But when I took the home pregnancy tests (at least ten of them) and they all came back negative, I started losing heart.
The nurse had asked me if I felt any different, if my breasts felt tender, and other questions like those. All my answers came back as negative, just like all those damn pregnancy tests.
The office felt colder this time as I waited for the doctor to walk in. I almost hadn’t come in and had thought about just calling to tell them that I’d changed my mind and no longer needed their services.
But I think that part of me just wanted the official confirmation from the doctor that even my body couldn’t get with the program and give me the family that my heart had been so desperately wanting.
My parents had had me later in life and admitted that I was a complete “oopsie baby” because they hadn’t wanted children and had gotten permanent birth control that ended up failing. They were now elderly and were immersed in their own interests to the point of being rather self-absorbed.
They had never been particularly loving. Needless to say, I was an only child. At first, I had handled my loneliness by throwing myself into school and my career. I had wanted to find love and get married, but it just hadn’t worked out for me.
I so wanted to be able to have a baby of my own and make my own family for myself, since I didn’t want to settle for one of the man-babies I had tried to date. This was my chance, but it wasn’t working out as I had planned.
It was beginning to seem as though I would just have to stay lonely in life.
Within a few minutes, Dr. Roberts knocked softly and walked into the room, disrupting my depressed thoughts.
“How have you been feeling?” he asked, his loud voice cheerful, making me wonder if there was hope after all.
“Fine,” was all I could manage to say.
“Well, that’s good. Now, I have some bad news and some good news. The bad news is that, according to the test the nurse had you take prior to this appointment, which is clinic policy, you aren’t pregnant yet. The good news is that we still have plenty of time and opportunity to keep trying.”
I tried to force myself to smile and say thank you, but I choked out a sob and hot tears started streaming down my face. When I tried to stop them, they just kept right on coming.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Dr. Roberts. “You have to understand, these things take time. You’re talking about bringing a brand-new life into the world in a different way than it’s biologically done. As I’ve said, we can move onto IVF if this doesn’t work but there is still time for this way to work; it was just the beginning. If you know anything about science…”
I could tell that he was about to go into a long lecture, so I waved his hand away.
“No, it’s isn’t that.” My voice came out whinier than I meant it to. “It’s just that I really hoped that I would be able to get pregnant right away. With everything that seems to be going so well in my life professionally, it just seems like when it comes to love and having a family, I’m the unluckiest person alive. I must have been lucky in one area of my life and not the other. I mean, what good is having an amazing career if you don’t have anyone else to share it with?”
Dr. Roberts looked like he had been punched in the gut. I hadn’t expected what I’d said to resonate with him so strongly. It was almost as if he identified with my words.
“I can understand that,” he said, nodding slowly, as if forcing himself to be professional rather than indulge in his personal issues like I had just done to him. “But don’t be so hard on yourself. It doesn’t always happen right away. After you’ve had your next cycle, we can try again and see if it works. At that time, you should call the clinic and make another appointment. But I want you to stay positive and don’t be so hard on yourself. The test results have shown no reason to assume you wouldn’t be able to get pregnant; it is just a process that takes time. And, like you said before, you’ve never even attempted pregnancy, right?”
“Right,” I confirmed, softly.
“So, what makes you so sure that the next time won’t be that magical chance that you’ve been waiting for?”
I thought about how my life had gone and even at my prior attempts at dating. They were complete nightmares. It was a large part of the reason why I had decided to skip the relationship part and just go straight for the baby.
I shuddered, thinking of the horrible guys that I had dated, which ranged the gamut from friends hooking me up and dating apps that others had suggested. It was enough to make any woman run for the hills.
One of them talked about his mom non-stop during our date. Another one seriously brought along his video game collection and thought I would want to try it out. When I said I wasn’t really into video games, he shrugged and proceeded to play them by himself.
And those were just the ones who were innocuously annoying. There were others who had been rude, insulting, or seemed like they could end up being abusers by their tone of voice and what they had said to me. Not to mention the creeps who seemed like they were about to try to commit date rape or would even stalk me after the date, refusing to accept that it hadn’t worked out and instead continuing to push for my attention.
I finally decided I must do something to accidentally attract this type of guy. Perhaps I didn’t know how to judge someone’s character or have healthy social interactions, since I had been raised
by parents who would rather go golfing or do charity work than spend time with their only daughter. I had always been alone and lonely.
Sure, I’d had some friends at school, but they were always forced-together social relationships; much the same as I had with Judy. If she and I didn’t work together, we would have never had a reason to talk and I always felt awkward trying to strike up conversations with strangers or make new friends.
I told myself now was not the time to dissect my personal failings or unsuccessful dating life. Nevertheless, it was all I sometimes managed to be able to think about.
“I just have this sinking feeling that it just won’t work out,” I told Dr. Roberts. “Nothing like this ever goes the way that I hope it will. I just wanted to get pregnant and enjoy it. I wanted to be able to look forward to becoming a mother and just focus my energy on that. Now, I have nothing to even dream about. I figured that, if I couldn’t find love, at least I could have my baby. I was foolish, though, to think this would turn out any differently.”
I fought hard to hold in the tears that were welling up behind my eyes. Even though the hormones I’d been taking hadn’t made me conceive a baby, they definitely had worked to make me feel more emotional.
“There, there,” said Dr. Roberts, putting his hand on my bare shoulder again, just like he had done during my last visit to this office. “I can relate to your personal struggles. I too have always had more luck in my professional life than my personal life.”
I found that hard to believe, until he added, “Although it was probably more self-inflicted, in my case. I never thought I wanted any of this, but now I’m thinking maybe I do.”
It was a blunt admission, and he looked almost as surprised as I felt that he had blurted it out. But what was really amazing was the sensation I felt from his physical touch.
