2. Kate
Kate had always believed herself to be an empathetic doctor, but now on the other end as a patient, she vowed to up her game even more.
Not that the various specialists she’d seen recently had been bad, per se. They were just a bit… robotic. Kate didn’t blame them. It was very easy to treat everyone as a number—especially if you were dealing with traumatic situations on a daily basis. She totally understood that emergency department surgeons used emotional distance so they could focus on their work.
But she wasn’t an emergency patient. She was about to undergo IVF.
And today, her regular doctor wasn’t available. She’d been very fussy about choosing her fertility doctor: a kind and professional woman called Dr Amelia Coppola.
Instead, a middle-aged man sat at her desk and briefly scanned her file.
‘Okay, everything looks in order here…’ He trailed off. ‘You’re using donor sperm?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Why would you put yourself through a pregnancy without a husband to look after you?’
Kate snorted. Almost everyone she’d confided in about her upcoming pregnancy had asked the same thing, but she took offense at this man who didn’t know anything about her situation and whose job it was to help her. She could have argued she had a partner who wasn’t able to provide the sperm for whatever reason, but her file already explained she was doing this solo.
‘I don’t need a husband to look after me,’ she said patiently. ‘I have more than enough money, and I have a support network lined up.’
‘I’m just saying, having a baby is a huge undertaking, even when there’s another person to share the load.’
‘Thank you. I’ll take that under advisement.’
The doctor stared at her for a moment longer before shaking his head slightly. ‘Your latest blood tests look fine. But since you’re over thirty, you’ll need to make sure you’re doing everything by the book.’ He looked her up and down. ‘You could probably afford to lose a few kilos, so make sure you’re exercising and following a healthy eating plan. And remember to take your folic acid supplements. Also, keep the stress to a minimum.’
Kate wanted to point out that telling a woman she was old and needed to lose weight was not conducive to a relaxed state, but she held her tongue. Hopefully she would never have to see this douchebag again after today.
‘Will do,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Am I good to go?’
The doctor seemed put out. ‘I… I suppose. See the girls at reception to make your next appointment. We’ll do one final check-up before we begin hyperstimulation.’
Kate stood. ‘Great. Thanks.’
She left the room and booked her next appointment with reception before hurrying out to the street. Ick. She really hadn’t enjoyed that at all.
It was a shame. This was supposed to be the start of a well-deserved break. She’d worked most of the day, but she’d left early for the appointment, and she was now taking a month off to prepare for IVF. She’d already had a much more tactful conversation with Dr Amelia about the things she needed to do to get her body ready. She’d even signed up at her local gym with the plan of attending one of their circuit classes every day. It was Friday today, so she was going to give herself the day off tomorrow to finalise her routine, and then Sunday would be the first day of clean living.
It was a beautiful afternoon. The sky was blue, and the sun was nicely warm.
She was on holiday!
Kate loved her work as an emergency doctor, but she wanted a life outside of the hospital too. And with the long hours she put in, the only men she saw regularly were other doctors and nurses. She’d tried dating a couple, but it got awkward when they broke up, and she’d vowed to never go out with a colleague again. She’d even had to cancel a plan to join Doctors Without Borders with a male doctor she’d been seeing who cheated on her the week before they were due to leave.
She didn’t love dating apps either. They all seemed to be full of people wanting casual hookups, and Kate needed more than that.
It was crazy that it was easier to find a sperm donor than a boyfriend who was okay with taking things slow.
She drove home to her house in Bardon. The area wasn’t particularly convenient for her commute to work, but she’d bought the place relatively cheaply five years ago. Back then, it had faded brown carpet, gaudy light shades, and a bright, teal-coloured living room wall. Kate had gradually transformed it into a relaxing contemporary oasis, with large timber-framed windows looking out to the bush behind the property. She’d painted the interior white and renovated the bathrooms and kitchen with neutral tiling and fittings. She couldn’t ever imagine finding somewhere better to live than here.
She hung her handbag over a hook mounted on the entry wall and went to the kitchen to assess her cupboards. She’d have to either eat or throw away anything unhealthy by the end of tomorrow.
The cupboard revealed a surprising amount of junk food. Kate had thought she was pretty sensible, but as she removed cookies, instant ramen, and potato chips from the shelves, she was reminded of that old TV show where the hosts shamed the contestants for their eating habits. She’d found the show exploitative at the time, but she now understood how easy it was for junk food to pile up in the house.
The fridge and freezer weren’t much better. She pulled out half a carton of Ben Jerry’s, some frozen apple pies, and several bars of chocolate.
Lastly, she removed a bottle of sparkling wine that she’d only opened the night before.
She grabbed a nearby glass and poured some of the wine. It wasn’t even five in the afternoon, but there were no rules when you were on holiday.
She took a spoon from the cutlery drawer and carried it with the ice cream and her wine over to the coffee table.
Ah.
This was something she wouldn’t be able to do in peace once she had a baby. Not that she cared. Having a child was way more important than indulging in behaviour she no longer found satisfying. Sure, wine and sugar provided a temporary high, but she’d give them up in a heartbeat to share a meaningful relationship with another human being. She couldn’t wait to meet her future son or daughter, hopefully in just under a years’ time.
She scrolled through social media on her phone before trawling through the city’s upcoming events. She loved live music shows and art gallery exhibitions, but her job meant she hadn’t been able to attend either very often in recent years.
Oh, this looked interesting. It was an exhibition called Unsung Heroes opening tomorrow night. It might be worth checking out. The artist was called Eli—no surname. Like Cher or Beyonce. Or Bono. She sipped her wine and read the description of the work featured in the exhibition.
Yes. A little bit of culture on the day before her month of health fit the bill perfectly.
She was looking forward to it.