Raising Rain (22 page)

She motioned to a couple entwined on the couch. “Hey, you, pay attention. This is important.”

The couple laughed and gave Jude their full attention.

“Bebe is really tuned in and she's my right-hand
woman
and you all need to get to know her.”

Bebe squirmed at all the eyes on her while Jude gave her the stamp of approval. Lifting her hand in a small wave, she slipped from beneath Jude's arm and drifted over to the opened front door to get some air. Soon, one of the older students sidled up beside her and struck up a conversation. He said his name was Oz, and after small talk about classes and professors, he said he was going to the peace vigil on the fifteenth because he couldn't get off from work soon enough to go to the protest at Golden Gate Park with everybody else. He asked her if she was going to the vigil, and she said that she might. When he smiled at her, she felt both flattered and panicked.

He waggled his empty bottle and left her thinking about the encounter while he went to the kitchen for a refill. She looked over to find Jude watching her, and Jude lifted her head with a satisfied smile. In spite of herself, Bebe smiled back.

Rain balanced the clipboard on her knees while sitting in the waiting room of the upscale fertility clinic as she completed the medical questionnaire for her initial visit. This visit did not commit her to further expense and the cost was reasonable. If she wanted to go ahead with the procedure, then she would have to do some creative financing. She realized how healthy she was, answering no to so many questions
about illnesses and diseases. She noted that her mother had cervical cancer, but she could answer no questions about her father's medical history. She returned the clipboard to the receptionist and dug out her basal temperature chart to have ready for the doctor.

Photos of families with children covered the walls. A variety of magazines on health and pregnancy, along with travel, world affairs, gourmet cooking, and fashion lay neatly stacked on the side tables. Trying to mask her anticipation and anxiety, Rain flipped through a fashion magazine that smelled heavily of perfume.

She glanced over the top of the page at the other patients. A couple looking close to her age sat without speaking, but holding hands. The man occasionally brought the woman's hand to his lips and planted a light kiss on the back. The woman looked up at him once, and Rain felt like a voyeur for the sadness she saw in the woman's face. This seemed odd to Rain, noticing the small bump on the woman's belly, and the way the woman seemed to cradle it with her other hand. She was the only obviously pregnant woman in the seating area, and Rain thought she should be happy. It appeared that she'd gotten what Rain wanted. Maybe there was something wrong.

Another woman looked to be in her forties. She was welldressed—Ann Taylor perhaps—with manicured nails with matching purse and shoes. The only clue to her composure lay in the frown lines between her eyes, and the fluctuating tension in her jaw. Rain never saw her turn the page of her travel magazine.

How odd, Rain thought, that in this room where women waited for news of motherhood, there was no common bond, no connection between them. No recognition that they shared a common hope or experience. Each woman was alone with her own fears and the realization that they all swam in a great, shallow statistical pool that guaranteed at least one of them would end up childless.

At last they called Rain into a consultation room, and Dr. Sykes breezed in a few minutes later. He was clean-shaven, middle-aged and compact, with neatly trimmed fingernails and a buzz cut. She found his manner to be cordial, yet businesslike and competent. He briefly
went over her information, the basal temperature chart, and lab work, and then asked about her reasons for coming.

“I'm single and I want to have a baby. I was in a relationship for almost eight years, but he didn't want children, so we separated. I just couldn't wait any longer.”

“Unfortunately, we see this scenario often nowadays, and that's why we're here. I will say at the outset that your age may be a factor in whether or not you will be able to conceive and carry a child full-term.”

Rain nodded and kept her eyes on her charts spread before him on the desk.

“The quantity and quality of a woman's eggs usually decline with age, although all women are different. We'll do an assessment of your remaining egg supply through hormone testing and do a vaginal ultrasound to measure follicle development. Unfortunately, there is no specific test available for egg quality.”

“What do you mean by quality?”

“As women age, the eggs they release are less perfect, and there is a dramatic increase in chromosomal abnormalities. We recommend amniocentesis for abnormalities such as Down syndrome and cerebral palsy. There is always the option of using donor eggs.”

He flipped through her chart to the results sent over by Dr. Lazenby. He pursed his lips as he read, frowning.

”Did you attempt to become pregnant with your partner?”

“Yes, for about a year.”

Rain remembered the morning Hayden found her using a pregnancy test. Unfortunately, she wasn't pregnant, but he forced her to admit that she'd been off the pill for eleven months. She thought he would adjust to the idea, but it drove a wedge between them. She'd never seen him so angry.

Dr. Sykes asked about her lifestyle and family history, none of which seemed to her to give clues to her infertility.

“I see that you terminated a pregnancy at age sixteen. Were there medical issues at the time that you're aware of?”

“None that I know of.”

“Based on your unexplained infertility and your age, I recommend we move ahead to intrauterine insemination. It's possible that your partner's sperm count was the factor in your infertility. If we're not successful, we'll progress to in vitro fertilization, before all fertility potential is lost.”

Rain felt he draped hope in a dark blanket of chance. “What exactly does that involve?”

“You have a slightly irregular ovulation cycle, so we would prescribe a ten-day supply of Clomid and depending on the results of your day 3 FSH test, we may add a small dose of gonadotropin injections to force your body to produce multiple follicles and eggs. We remove the eggs from the ovaries and coerce fertilization in the lab. Then we culture the embryos for several days and pick the best ones for transfer to the uterine cavity.”

“You do that here?”

“Yes. The egg retrieval is done by needle aspiration under local anesthesia.”

“It sounds painful.”

“As with any procedure, there is a certain amount of discomfort. We hope to retrieve five to seven eggs for the best results.”

Rain felt bombarded by the technical information and incapable of taking it all in. “Seven eggs?”

“We'll transfer only two or three embryos, and you can choose to freeze the rest for a later transfer, if you prefer.”

“So I could end up with twins or triplets.”

“Multiple births are a possibility. The live birth rates for triplets and quads is low, or they are often premature, so we generally recommend fetal reduction to increase the likelihood of a live singleton birth.”

Rain wasn't at all sure she heard him correctly. “Fetal reduction?”

“To reduce the number of fetuses in utero. Miscarriage rates increase with the number of fetuses. It's also in the best interest of the mother. There is much more stress placed on the body with multiples than with singletons.”

The doctor continued, not noticing that Rain was stuck on the
words
reduction
and
fetuses
.

“We do offer assistance with a donor service. Will you need donor sperm?”

“I've already checked that out.” Rain colored. “On a donor website, I mean.”

“Here is our rate sheet and consent form.” He handed her a packet of information. “You can set up your next appointment as soon as those are completed and you've visited our finance office. I wouldn't wait too long, if you're interested.”

Rain tried to make sense of the figures, but they were four and five number places with zeros and they blurred and scrambled. “Thank you. I'll have to take a look at this and come back.”

Rain thanked him and left the clinic to sit in her car in the parking lot and comprehend the charges involved in the various procedure scenarios. Including medications, one cycle of IVF treatment without a sperm or egg donor was just under $10,000, with only a 20 percent chance of success, judging by the age chart. The two-cycle plan included assisted hatching and storage of frozen embryos, and the price went up by $4,000, but her chances also went up to 50 percent. A single cycle of IVF with an egg donor was $25,000—without including the cost of the sperm donor. As if it wasn't bad enough, the prices increased when she turned thirty-nine. Medication was estimated at $1,000 and was not included in any of the plans.

Rain clocked in at work just after lunch and e-mailed her insurance broker, briefly outlining the procedures to determine whether she qualified for any medical coverage. The agent told her that her comprehensive group policy covered the fertility meds, the actual IUI procedure, and the office visits, but not the ultrasounds. But in the case of in vitro, her insurance would only reimburse her for the office visit and part of the medication. The State of California Health and Safety and Insurance Codes required group plans to offer coverage for treatment of infertility, except for cases of in vitro fertilization.

She would follow the doctor's advice and try IUI first. She speeddialed the fertility clinic's number to set up an appointment. She had
enough in savings to cover what the insurance didn't for the first round. If that didn't work, she would have to move to Plan B.

B
ebe's parents decided they couldn't make the long trip to San Diego for Scott's graduation, but at least they planned a party for him at the farm on Sunday after he got back home. Paul naturally had to stay home because of the harvest, and Rudy and Karen's family had a conflict and couldn't go, either. Bebe asked Rain if she would like to go along, and to her surprise, Rain said she would love to.

Bebe contacted the travel agency that assisted parents in making hotel and other arrangements for the graduation weekend, and Neil cleared their schedules at the clinic. She checked the weather forecast and printed directions from the hotel to MCRD on Mapquest.

If she was honest with herself, she had to admit that it was both a disappointment and a relief that her parents weren't going with them. At least she didn't have to worry about them unintentionally ruining the day for Scott. They could say what they wanted to her, but things would get ugly if they carelessly said things in his hearing. She could only hope that Bobby wouldn't be there, since Scott hadn't mentioned that he would be.

Dylan drove home from college on the night before they were to leave, ate dinner, filled the washer with dirty laundry, and took off to connect with some friends. Bebe warned him to be ready to leave at 6:00 a.m., because it would be at least an eight hour drive without hitting bad traffic. The next morning, they had to drag him out of bed and wait until he got his clothes packed.

They swung by to pick up Rain, and hit Interstate 80. It was great just to get out of town, and Bebe felt euphoric, although she noticed that Rain seemed preoccupied at times. They took Highway 99 through the central valley to break up the monotony and stopped for fast food at the base of the Grapevine before they crossed. They crawled along Interstate 5 in Los Angeles, and finally came out on the other side into Orange County traffic, which lightened as they continued south toward San Diego. They knew they were getting close when they caught occasional glimpses of bright ocean.

They checked into the hotel and noticed that a majority of cars in the parking lot boasted USMC stickers. They found a place to eat and then turned in early. Bebe shared a bed with Rain, and Dylan and Neil wrestled for blankets on the other bed. Like a kid on Christmas Eve, Bebe had difficulty sleeping. Not only was she excited to see Scott, but she also harbored worry about Bobby in her mind.