Angel's Lullaby
Doctor's Appointment
Disclaimer: I own no one!
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John hated doctors.
Even if he wasn't the one seeing the doctor, they still freaked him out. They were a constant reminder of how much could go right and how much could go wrong.
"Well, Randy, I got your test results back," Dr. Fitzgibbon, the fertility specialist said. Randy reached out and squeezed John's hand. John could sense his giddy nervousness. This was it.
If the doctor gave the green light, they would start trying to concieve during Trish's next fertile cycle. All their hopes and dreams rode on these test results.
"Yes?" Randy muttered, hopefully. The doctor grinned.
"You're young, you're healthy. Your sperm count was above average. Your sperm are normal, active and just right for trying to concieve," she said. John hugged Randy. Shaking his head, Randy had a stunned look on his face.
"You mean we can go ahead with the in-vitro?" John asked, wanting to hear the doctor say it.
"I don't see any reason why we can't. Now for the course of treatment, I am going to start Trish on Clomid which stimulates egg follicle growth. Around the time the eggs pop out of the follicle, we'll go in and retrieve them. Then, in a pietry dish, we'll mix her eggs with your sperm. Then, once they've mutated together, we'll implant the embryos into Trish's uterus," Dr. Fitzgibbon explained. John nodded. "Now, around the time of egg retrieval, we'll need a sperm collection from you, Randy." Randy nodded.
John knew Randy was on another dimension. He was stunned into silence. When Randy was quiet, you pretty much could guarantee there was a problem.
They walked out of the doctor's office. Randy still clutched John's hand. He hadn't spoken since the doctor had said his sperm was usable.
"Babe, do you want to grab a bite?" John asked, walking down Madison Avenue. He was pretty sure Randy was hungry. The last time they had eaten had been six-fifteen that morning and that had just been a buttered croissant with a small cup of coffee.
"S-sure," Randy stuttered.
He was walking on air. He couldn't believe he was physically able to father children. He hadn't exactly doubted that ability, but hearing it from a medical professional made it pretty special.
They dined at a small Italian cafe. Throughout the meal, Randy was silent. For once, John found that he, himself, didn't have much to say. What could be said?
Trish was sitting in their living room when they walked into the apartment. John assumed the doctor had given her the good news. He also sensed her anxiety and uncertainty, all normal emotions.
"Dr. Fitzgibbon called me," she said, meekly. John nodded, sitting beside her. "Chris and I were talking. There's only one way we'll agree to this," John closed his eyes, afraid of the one stipulation.
"Never let the kid forget where she came from. Oh and Chris wants to be Godfather if you'll allow it,"
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