Feasibility Study
Chapter 2: Too Much Information
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by KJT
May 24, 2005 (Day 32)
9:48 a.m.
Freshly showered and shaved, Sara knew she was physically ready for her OB/Gyn appointment. It was her lack of mental preparedness that kept her pacing the sidewalk outside the doctor's office. Checking her watch she noted she was already three minutes past the suggested fifteen minute pre-appointment arrival time.
Mumbling she continued to wear a groove in the cement. "You've come to this office every year for the last four years so it's not new. The only new part is the reason. You're going to be late if you…"
"Miss?" The geriatric male parking lot security guard flashed a cautious smile. "Are you looking for the entrance to the Psychiatric Outpatient Center?"
"What?" Realizing the guy thought she was nuts for talking and pacing she corrected his perception. "I'm not lost…geographically or mentally." To herself, she admitted the latter wasn't exactly true but she wasn't about to confess it to a stranger.
He backed away slowly. "Miss, I was only trying to help."
Realizing she had a choice between remaining outside under the watchful eye of a security guard who thought she was a few cards shy of a full deck and entering the familiar doctor's office she chose to step inside.
Once inside she knew she made the wrong choice.
The office was abuzz with estrogen-fueled conversation and every woman looked like Buddha, only more stylishly dressed. Why didn't I notice this stuff when I was here all the other times, she wondered?
"Miss?" The cherubic receptionist cheerily called out.
Sara pointed to herself.
"Yes, you." The receptionist held up a clipboard. "You need to sign in."
"Oh. Right." Forcing a polite smile, she walked over to the counter and filled out the required information.
Name…Sara Sidle
Insurance Changes...None
Appointment Time…10:00
Doctor's Name…Dr. Simon
Reason for Your Visit…
Her suspicions were confirmed, there would be a trick question.
With a death grip on the pen, she struggled for an answer. What was the reason for the visit? Curiosity? No, too vague. An inquiry into a potential life choice? No, too wordy.
"Miss?" The receptionist smiled.
Sara recognized that smile. It was identical to the security guard's outside.
"Are you having a problem remembering your reason for being here?"
"No…I." She chuckled. "It's…you know you don't leave a person a lot of room to explain and really I'm not so sure people should be required to list a reason when their name is right there for everyone to see. I can't be the first person to bring that to your attention, can I?"
"Actually yes."
"Oh."
"But you don't have to write it down if you don't want to. How about I run through the choices and you pick the one that suits you best and it will be between you and me."
"Okay." Sara dropped the pen.
"Annual exam?"
"No."
"Medical problem?"
"No."
"Pregnancy Test?"
"No."
"Are you looking for the Psychiatric Outpatient Center and walked in the wrong door?"
"No!"
"Want to catch up on your magazine reading?"
"What? No."
"Ah!" The receptionist nodded. "Someone as tense as you can only be here for one thing…a preconception consultation and exam."
Sara nodded. "That one."
Reaching into a cabinet, the receptionist grabbed stack of papers. "Newbies get the jumbo pack and a gift." Smiling she handed over the stack and a commemorative pink and blue pen. "Fill out the ones that are highlighted and the rest are informational. Good luck, Sweetie."
"Thanks."
Nervously scanning the room she searched for a seat in a private area.
"This is the only one left." A blissfully happy woman with a bouncy blonde ponytail and burgeoning belly announced as she cleared a magazine off the seat.
"Um…" Knowing there was no other option, Sara walked over and smiled. "Thanks."
Expecting that to be the extent of their chit-chat, Sara was horrified to hear the bubbly woman say, "I see you have the newbie packet. How exciting! This one will be my fourth so if you have any questions I'd be happy to give you the scoop! My name is Debbie, what's yours?"
"Actually I have a lot of paperwork to complete so I can't…"
"Oooh that's right." Debbie winked. "I'll just read a magazine."
"Thanks." Relieved the conversation was over Sara removed the clip from the stack of papers and got to work.
Obstetric history. Knowing she didn't have a history or a clue when it came to babies, she took her pen and wrote NONE across the form. This is going to be easy, she thought.
Gynecological history. Scanning the form she didn't see any major challenges and completed it rapidly, only getting stuck on the number of sexual partners question because there were some from Boston she didn't want to remember. Finally, after completing the rest of the page, she wrote the number thirteen even though she felt it was highly misrepresentative of her sexual history. Eleven of the thirteen were in the same reckless two year period at Harvard. Brushing off her discomfort from the bad memory, she moved on to the next form.
Medical history. Finding nothing difficult on this one she breezed through it.
Vaccination history. A no-brainer, she wrote CURRENT across the top with a side note stating it was a job requirement.
Emotional history. And it had been going so well. Knowing there wouldn't be any easy questions and she'd have too many affirmative answers, she tensed. The questions were bad enough but filling it out six inches away from Debbie's curious eyes, she couldn't do it. Folding it up, she stuffed it in her pocket and went on to the next form.
Lifestyle Questions. Drugs…never. Alcohol…not in excess. Caffeine? Panic shot through her and she blurted out loud, "No caffeine!"
Debbie took Sara's exclamation as a cry for help. "That's right. Too much caffeine can affect the health of the baby. No coffee!"
"No coffee?" Two words couldn't have elicited more terror.
"I don't eat chocolate either."
"No chocolate!"
"Especially not when you're breastfeeding because…"
"Stop." Sara held up her hand. "I'm not even pregnant yet." She froze and reviewed her words. Did I just say pregnant? Did I just say yet? That's when she knew the terror of her previous words, 'no coffee', had been trumped. Were the words a slip? An expression? Or were they…
"Sorry…I didn't mean to overwhelm you." Debbie patted the newbie on the shoulder. "Just make sure you get plenty of protein…stick with the lean ones, chicken, turkey and…"
"I'm a vegetarian so I only eat fish."
Debbie gasped. "There's too much mercury in fish to eat it all the time! And you can't eat swordfish, shark or mackerel at all. And definitely no sushi!"
"I…uh…really need to get back to my paperwork now." Turning slightly, Sara focused on the next sheet while trying to calm the tension rising within. Genetic Screening. Her eyes immediately picked up on the bolded writing. If you'll be 35 or older when you give birth you may be referred to a genetics counselor. She sunk in the chair. Already plagued with inadequacies she didn't need to be reminded her biological clock would only tock for a short time and her body might fight the process.
"Debbie Hart." The nurse called out.
"Right here."
Sara breathed her first sigh of relief.
After fighting her way out of her chair Debbie gave Sara a thumbs up. "Good luck, newbie."
"Thanks." Finally free to fill out her papers in peace, Sara retrieved the Emotional History form.
Before she could make a mark on the paper, another rotund woman plopped into Debbie's old chair. "Don't worry about what that other woman said. I never gave up chocolate and my kids don't have third eyes."
"Good to know." Once more, Sara gave up filling out the form and stuffed it in her pocket.
"What you really need to know are the things no one speaks about. They don't speak about them until after you have a baby and are part of the club because if they spoke about them before you'd never sign up."
"Um…like what?"
The nurse's voice boomed. "Sara Sidle"
"That's me." Clutching her stack of papers she jumped up from the chair. Unnerved from not hearing the secret information she reluctantly followed the nurse down the hall.
Nick rapped on Grissom's office doorway, "Glad you're still here."
"Hey Nick." Grissom dropped his pen and motioned for him to enter. "Take a seat."
"I have an invitation for you and Sara."
Even though it had only been a month, it didn't surprise him. "You and Carrie tying the knot? Which chapel?"
"No." He chuckled. "Not yet anyway." They hadn't even talked about it but he knew with certainty the day would come.
"I have an invitation from Wendy and Paul Blake." Nick extended the envelope. "They want to have you and Sara over for dinner to thank you for the whole Rodgers thing. Real low key…only other people will be Carrie and me and of course the Blake's four kids. They're great kids…eleven year old twin boys, and two girls, the cutest little four year old and a baby. Carrie is so great with them too." Realizing he was gushing, he refocused. "Anyway, I think it means a lot to Wendy to do this. Now I know you and Sara don't usually like these kinds of gatherings but I'd really appreciate it if…"
"We'll be there." Tucking the opened invitation in his pocket, he smiled.
Chuckling he teased, "You don't need to ask the little woman first?"
"If Sara heard you call her 'the little woman' she'd flip."
"So would Carrie." Nick relaxed into the chair. "So, you want to know what was discussed at the last departmental meeting."
"No." Rolling his eyes, he grumbled, "But Brass is making you tell me, isn't he?"
"Yep."
"Well, make it quick." He wanted to be there for Sara when she returned from the doctor. "I need to get home."
Laughing once more, he replied, "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with either of your bosses, so I'll talk fast."
As the nurse removed the blood pressure cuff from Sara's arm, she remarked, "Pressure's a little high for you according to our records from your last visits.
"I'm…uh…a little more nervous than usual."
"Did they pounce on you in the waiting room?" The nurse huffed. "They love scaring the crap of women like you."
"Like me?"
"Wide-eyed and terrified over the prospect of motherhood." As the nurse wrote her notes she droned on. "You sit out there surrounded by the Stepford Moms thinking you couldn't possibly become one of them. You love your career and can't imagine staying home all day wiping drool off one end of a screaming baby and wiping poop off the other. You start wondering if you even have a maternal bone in your body and just when you are ready to run for the door, that's when they strike with the horror stories."
"That about sums it up."
"The doctor will be in momentarily," The nurse announced before leaving the room.
With time to kill, she reached for a magazine from the rack on the wall. The lead article was titled, Career, Baby, Romance…You Can Have It All! The secrets are inside! "Finally some good news."
A knock on the door tore Sara away from the magazine before she learned the secrets. "Come in."
Dr. Simon, a petite forty-something woman with fire-red hair and the energy of a puppy on methamphetamine, burst into the room. "So you're ready to have a baby! Congratulations!"
"Well I…" Still unable to say the 'b' word and still having a hard time imagining herself as a 'm' and Grissom as a 'd', the doctor's candid demeanor was a bit unnerving. "Not sure yet. Just checking into the possibility."
"Good girl!" You're smart enough to plan ahead before you get pregnant." She glanced at her file. "But of course you're smart; I see here your highest level of education is a Ph.D."
"Actually I'm almost…"
"So!" She tore through the forms. "No obstetrical history to discuss so let's look at your gynecological history. Oh."
"What?" It was the first time she had ever seen her doctor slow down. "Is there something wrong?"
"Well…" The doctor cleared her throat. "It's not my place to pass judgment but as a physician I have to advise you that having thirteen sexual partners will make identifying the baby's father a bit of a challenge. Paternity tests can't be performed safely until after the baby's birth. Or are you doing this on your own and don't want the baby's father in the picture?"
"What? No!" Sara protested. "I thought you were asking for a lifetime total. Eleven of those were from my drunken college days when I was looking for love in all the wrong places. I only have one partner now. The same one I've had for five years. Well we weren't sexually active for five years…actually we were barely active at all unless you call flirting and frustration activity but we managed to get it together about eight months ago and now we're great, really great so great in fact that's why we're investigating the idea of having a …" Finally remembering this was the OB/Gyn's office and not her therapist's, Sara stopped baring her soul and stuck to the facts. "The correct answer is one. One sexual partner."
"That's a relief…the fact you have one partner and that you finally got it together with him after five years." Smiling, Dr. Simon flipped to the next form. "Medical is fine, Vaccinations are current. Lifestyle…hmm."
"I know, too much caffeine, too much fish."
"They got to you in the waiting room, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Don't worry, you'll leave here with a bunch of books and pamphlets. Shouldn't be too tough for an educated woman like you to figure out. And don't think for a minute you have to give up your career or life as you know it. I have a husband, three kids, a retriever and this medical practice." Flipping through her papers she asked, "Hmm…they must have forgotten to give you the Emotional History form."
"It's uh…in my pocket." A nervous smile twittered across her face as she pulled it out. "It wasn't really private enough out there to complete it. I'm…I'm not having any current problems…well I'm in therapy but it's all about the past…childhood stuff and some related issues. I've already discussed this issue with my therapist and she feels I could handle having a…um…and I'm not taking any medication."
"Not a problem. Just keep your therapist in the loop and if you do get pregnant, we'll both want to monitor you very carefully post-partum." The doctor stood and offered a supportive smile while snapping on a fresh set of gloves. "Hey, if everyone with childhood issues was banned from being a parent the schools would be a lot less crowded around here."
"Thanks."
"I will need you to fill out that form though. So I have it on record." Winking, the doctor flipped the chair switch. "After all these years of work stoppage, it's time to see if the factory is still operational. Ready?"
Sara's breathing quickened. "For all of it or just this part?"
"Just this part."
"Yes."
Catherine wound her way through the aisles of bedding still uncertain which to select. Although Warrick said he'd sleep on a bed of nails if it made her happy, she wanted to pick something that suited them both. Blues? Reds? Plaids? Solids? Why was this so difficult?
After another fifteen minutes and no decision, it struck her. Call Sara for a consult.
Grabbing her cell phone, she punched in Sara's speed dial code and waited.
"Hello."
"Hey, did I catch you at a bad time?"
"Uh…I just finished an internal exam with my doctor and I'm sitting here waiting for them to take me for an egg hunt in the ultrasound room."
"Sounds fun!" Catherine continued to wander the aisles. "So now that we know the army is capable of launching a successful assault are you fortifying the battlefield to hold off the attack or are you doing all you can to make it an easy victory for the troops?"
"I'm doing reconnaissance. And I only told you where I was because I have a question and since you've already had a…"
Ever since Catherine accidentally read Grissom's test results she tried her best not to give them too much grief but some days…she just couldn't help herself. "Say the word or I won't answer the question."
"Baby."
"Nice job." She chuckled as she ran her hands over a red satin comforter. "What's your question?"
"There was this woman in the waiting room and she said there is stuff no one tells you before you get…pregnant…that if you knew you wouldn't…"
"She was blowing smoke up your ass, Sara." Moving on to the next bedding ensemble she explained, "It's like when a new girl shows up to dance in a strip joint. All the old-timers try to freak her out. Women are vicious that way. They smell fear and they pounce."
"So there isn't anything to be worried about?"
"You mean besides the non-stop nausea, violent vomiting, phenomenal pain, and the permanent ravages to your body like a giant episiotomy tear, stretch marks and a weakened pelvic floor?"
"Thanks, old-timer, you still have a lot of pounce left in you. Now why did you call me?"
"I'm trying to make a decision." Catherine glanced from one display to the next.
"Join the club."
She chuckled. "Yeah but if I end up not liking what I choose, I can donate my choice to Goodwill."
Briefcase in hand, Grissom hurried out from behind his desk to the door.
"Not so fast." Brass blocked the way. "It's been four weeks. Are you ever going to pick a replacement for Nick?"
"I'm working on it."
"How many candidates have you interviewed?"
"None." He checked his watch. "This really isn't a good time."
"How about you handle this decision the same way you handle decisions at home…have Sara tell you what to do."
"Very funny." Then he realized it wasn't a bad idea. "How about I grab the applications and look over them later."
"Yeah, good plan." Dropping his hand on Grissom's shoulder he warned, "I want a decision in two weeks."
"If I bring you a loaf of Wendy Blake's banana bread could we make it four weeks?"
"You got an inside track on that?"
Plucking the invitation from his jacket he grinned. "I'm getting a whole dinner. Jealous?"
Using the new information Brass gave his final answer. "Two weeks with the bread, one without."
"You're such a hard ass, Jim." Grissom grumbled as he returned to his desk for the applications.
"And you're still so bad at negotiating." Brass rolled his eyes. "You aren't supposed to tell me about the banana bread in advance. When I show up in two weeks busting your balls because you still haven't named a replacement, that's when you mention the banana bread. Then it buys you more time, not now when you still have time left."
"Ah." Haphazardly he stuffed the applications in his briefcase. "Good to know."
Walking down the hall together, Brass chuckled. "Want to grab some lunch?" He checked his watch. "I have thirty minutes to bestow a little more political knowledge on you, grasshopper."
"No. I've got to get home."
"What's that noise?" He glanced around pretending to track down the sound. "Oh! It's the rattle of a ball and chain."
Grinning, Grissom asked, "Jealous?"
"Nah…Sara can't make banana bread."
"I can buy banana bread."
"What?" Brass leaned in while holding his hand to his ear. "I can't hear a thing over those clanking chains!"
Sara lay on her bed staring at the ant farm she had taken off the dresser and put on her nightstand. Fifteen minutes of prep work and one trip to the backyard and they had an instant family. Glancing over at the pile of books and pamphlets blanketing the foot of the bed she knew the real thing…if they decided to pursue it, was going to be a lot more challenging.
Closing her eyes she tried to block the million conflicting thoughts coursing through her mind.
Minutes later, when she heard the front door open she called out. "I'm in the bedroom." She was glad she could finally unload some of the burden.
Keys still in hand, Grissom hurried into the room. "Sorry, I wanted to be here when you got back but Jim was harassing me about the new hire." Tossing his keys on the nightstand he sat on the edge of the bed. "You looked stressed." The last thing he wanted was for her to find out there was something wrong. "Is there a problem?"
"Physically?" She shook her head. "Doctor said everything looks fine. They did an ultrasound and told me I still have plenty of eggs in the hatchery. I have to wait on the tests and the blood work but I'm not worried."
"Well that's great news." He breathed easier until he realized she was still vexed. "It is great news, isn't it?"
"Yes. Sorry. I'm still freaked out from the whole experience." Sitting up she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "When you were in the Urologist's office, did anyone in the waiting room talk to you and…"
"Are you kidding?" Taking off his jacket he threw it on a nearby chair. "Guys don't talk to each other at the urinal when things are going well. You think we're going to strike up a conversation when we're waiting to find out if something's wrong with the plumbing? That office is probably the quietest place in Vegas next to the morgue."
For the first time in hours she chuckled. "Well…it works differently in a room full of hormone-infused women."
"I bet." Taking her in his arms, he kissed her cheek. "So tell me about the appointment."
"Where to begin?" She sighed. "Remind me…what do you have to give up, if we decide to try and…?"
"No hot tub, recreational drugs, smoking or excessive cycling."
In a voice dripping with sarcasm, she empathized. "How horribly devastating considering your current lifestyle."
"Tell me about it." He laughed, as he dropped back on the bed, pulling her on top of him. "A chain-smoking, acid-dropping, Tour-de-France champion like me will really be suffering."
"But as soon as you successfully make your contribution…"
"I can hop on my bicycle, light up and hallucinate whenever I please."
"Exactly my point." She playfully punched him in the shoulder. "It's so unfair."
"And you know I won't be out of commission for long considering the quality of my …"
"Yes, yes I know!" Laughing she rolled her eyes. "How can I possibly forget when you keep reminding me that you're a stud?"
"You want to brag about your eggs so we're even?"
Cracking up, she rolled off of him and onto her back. "You don't get it. Ego is the last thing on my mind. I'm scared to death. I have to give up coffee!" Truly that was the least of her worries but it was representative of the sacrifices she'd have to make.
"Uh oh." He had only seen her coffee-deprived once and it wasn't pretty.
"And that's the tip of the iceberg. I have to take daily vitamins, change the way I eat, sleep, and exercise. And if I do get…"
He waited to see if she'd squeeze out the word.
"If I do get…you know…then there are things at work I won't be able to touch or smell or be near. My whole body will change and it might never be the same again. For nine months your life won't change at all but mine will be barely recognizable." Elbowing him I the ribs she groaned. "It sucks being a girl."
"Ow." Propping up on an elbow he said, "Just because I'm a biologist, you can't blame me for the design of the species."
"Well I know I'm not responsible." She chuckled as she turned to face him. "Because I would have done it much differently."
"If it makes you feel any better, I'll miss the hot tub."
"Oh yeah…that helps."
"Of course during that same hot tub deprivation period, for optimum fertilization odds, I would be forced to make love to you every forty-eight hours. How will I survive?" Nuzzling against her he teased, "Did your doctor say anything about practicing every forty-eight hours? I'm rather certain mine did."
"No, but she did tell me I needed to stop taking my birth control pills as soon as I'm done with my current pack."
He stopped in mid kiss. "So soon?"
"Yep. I've been on them so long it's the only way to know if I have a healthy cycle." She grinned. "Guess there will be a few more impacts on your life than you originally thought. As if it won't be challenging enough getting me de-caffeinated and de-regulated hormonally…in the future, you won't be getting me at all unless you make a trip to the drug store."
"You mean I have to buy…"
"Don't come knocking unless you've been shopping, Stud." She winked as she straddled him. "Because I know you're armed and dangerous."
"That's right."
As they kissed, they rolled to the lower part of the bed, bumping into Sara's pile of paperwork and books, scattering it.
"Ugh." She groaned. "This stuff keeps haunting me."
Grissom pulled a bunch of papers from beneath him. "Genetic Screening Request Form?"
"Yeah lucky me. Because I'll be thirty-five when…if…I get pregnant I got that bonus pamphlet.
"You said the word." He was stunned.
"See! Freaks you out when the other person says it, huh?" It was refreshing to see her tense look on his face. "Anyway they suggest getting tested for any genetic problems but it's not required."
Sobering he said, "You know my hearing problem is hereditary. Does that bother you?"
"Are you kidding? With the mental illness running on both sides of my family who am I to be selective?" Falling into his arms, she sighed. "Seriously…you should be the one who is worried."
"I'm not." He kissed the top of her head.
"So we've fulfilled the technical portion of the study assuming my tests come back fine."
"They will."
"So what's next?" She burrowed further into his embrace. "Even though we're both physically able, I'm not feeling mentally ready to decide anything."
He held her tighter. "I know I've been joking about all of this but I'm just as uncertain as you. And we don't have to make a decision for months."
Wistfully she asked, "How many babies have you held in your life?"
"Live ones?" It didn't take long to count. "None."
"Me either."
"How many kids do you actually know?"
"Only Lindsay but I've barely interacted with her."
"Same here." Sighing she lifted her head to capture his eyes with hers. "This whole thing is nothing more than a concept to us. We have no first hand experience. Beyond the biology of conception, we don't have a clue what to do." Panic seized her. "Who are we kidding? Why would we even want this complication in our lives? Have you ever thought that maybe we've fallen victim to some societal pressure or primal instinct and we need to wake up and realize we have a choice and we're not cut out to be parents of anything other than insects?"
"Do you want to call off the study?"
"Do you?"
For a while they stared at one another, each not sure of the answer they wanted to hear or give.
Grissom finally whispered, "No. At this point, I don't want to call it off. I'd like to keep investigating but maybe that's easier for me to say because I don't have to make the same physical sacrifices as you." Brushing his fingertips across her cheek, he said, "So, ultimately it's your call, Sara."
Fear and relief flowed through her until they combined to produce a nervous smile. "I think we need to get some first-hand exposure."
He was stunned by the level of relief he felt knowing they weren't calling it off. "I know exactly how we can get some first-hand exposure."
"How?"
"To thank us for our work on the Rodgers case, the Blakes invited us over for dinner next week with Nick and Carrie."
Perplexed, she asked, "How does that help?"
"The Blakes have four kids under the age of eleven."
"Four kids?" She gasped. "Don't you think we should start by observing one kid and work our way up?"
"Well…if we're comfortable around four then one won't be much of an issue."
"I suppose that's a good theory." Smiling she eased back into his arms. "And Wendy is a really nice person so how bad can her kids be?"
"I was at her house during the investigation, remember? Her kids weren't there but it was a very warm and loving environment. I'm sure they're wonderful."
"Do you think we should tell Wendy that her children's behavior will determine our future?"
Feigning disgust, he grimaced. "Who are you? You call yourself a scientist? Forget about having a baby with me, I don't think I can have you work for me anymore. If you tell Wendy what we're doing, you'd be contaminating the experiment by fixing the conditions."
"Right…right." She could barely keep a straight face. "The creatures must be observed in their natural state."
"And I'm sure it will be a very positive experience."
"And if it's not positive and her kids turn out to be poster-children for contraception, on the way home from dinner, we'll stop at Walgreens to refill my birth control prescription."
"And I'll still go shopping but instead of buying a jumbo box of Trojans I'll buy you a year's supply of gourmet coffee."
"Deal."
Rolling around in bed, their laughter replaced the tension in the room and the remaining books and papers fell to the floor.