Friday, April 10, 2020

Investments

                                     

June 2030

Nadia was tired of waiting to take control of her future, but had very little savings. But she wanted a baby so much that she felt it in her bones. What she wasn’t feeling was any meaningful connection with the guys she met on the five swipe-dating applications on her phone. She had read the statistics. Every year she waited, she risked infertility. Why should she wait for a man to have a baby?

On the other hand, Nadia still really wanted to find Mr. Right, even Mr. Right enough. She knew statistically her odds of finding love as a single mom would drop drastically. If she were divorced with kids, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. But for single moms finding a good, decent human being to love is just not easy.

In addition, she had her career to think about. Women can have it all? That’s been proven to be false. It would be very difficult for her to teach full time at the suburban school where she had recently been tenured with a child.

So she would go to Mexico. In Mexico, the fertility treatments were safe and literally 10 times cheaper. She applied for a Fertility Loan from the bank (since the clamp down on immigration and the decline of the American birth rate, the loans were interest free), and once she had her approval, she set up the meetings with her department chair and principal.

She requested a leave of absence to spend the school year in Mexico to improve her Spanish. Her administrators lauded her decision, as they had recently been fined by the Federal Government for not serving their Spanish speaking population.

“We can put Nadia’s efforts into the report, “ Dr. Martin said excitedly, speaking as if Nadia wasn’t there. He had his PhD or Ed.D, but no one knew exactly in what. They just knew they had to call him Dr.

“Thank you for the approval, Dr. Martin,” she said.

In June, after the last day of school, Nadia found someone to sublet her apartment. She moved in with her parents and after the first day of her menstrual cycle, she flew direct from Chicago to San Diego. She didn't tell her parents what she was doing. Only that the school had given her time to learn Spanish. She crossed the border over to Tijuana which would be her home away from home for the next few months. After checking in at the hotel, she spoke to the Director of International Admissions to confirm her arrival.The next day she would leave her hotel and check into the Tijuana International Fertility Clinic. It was the only clinic in Mexico where the entire fertility process was in-patient. She did not understand the rationale, however, she was happy to be in a secure place. She also didn’t relish taking all of the shots as her hands shook when she was nervous. The staff there would do it for her.

The Fertility Clinic looked more like a spa than a clinic. She imagined this must be similar to the drug rehab facility her college roommate frequented. There were drink stands with herbal teas, water with cucumber, and fruit drinks. After filling her water bottle, she headed to the lab to have her blood drawn and vaginal ultrasound taken. While she waited for the results, she unpacked in her room. It was the size of an efficiency apartment, but that’s all she really needed. Besides, this was temporary. The wifi connection was strong. What else did she really need?

The nurse phoned to say her test results looked good and that she should return to the lab for her first set of shots to stimulate ovulation. Nadia ovulated regularly, but she knew that they wanted to harvest as many eggs as possible to ensure success. For 12 days a month, for three months, Nadia awoke, took a blood test, received a vaginal ultrasound, waited for the phone call from the nurse, went back to the lab and received shots. In the time between, she read, watched Netflix, and selected a sperm donor. Twenty five percent of her eggs she would inseminate and fifty percent she would leave in case she did actually meet Mr. Right. The other 25 percent would probably not be high enough quality.  After each harvest, Nadia felt bloated, but was in good spirits. During her first harvest, the doctor said that he saw at least 10 eggs on the ultrasound. When the anesthesiologist asked her to count down from 10 as he inserted the IV into her arm, she made one last joke: 10 eggs, 9 eggs, 8 eggs, but by 8 she was out.

Nadia finished the process with 60 eggs. It was almost certain that she would become a mother one day. During her last round of IVF, she picked a sperm donor for some of the eggs. In the end, after looking at the quality of the eggs, they would turn five of the eggs into embryos and freeze them, in case she never met someone with whom to share her life.

Nadia left the clinic with 57 frozen eggs and 3 level one frozen embryos - two didn't fertilize for whatever reason. Nadia was thrilled. She signed the paperwork, hugged her favorite phlebotomist Maria goodbye, and headed to the airport for an intensive Spanish seminar in Mexico City.


June, 2045

Nadia met her husband of two months Christopher at a wine bar in Lincoln Park.

“Damnit, I can’t believe this place isn’t handicapped accessible,” Nadia said to Christopher, lamenting her bad choice.

Christopher was in a wheelchair. He had been paralyzed after being hit by an IED during his tour of duty in Iran. On their third date, Christopher told Nadia that he couldn’t have children. On the fifth date, Nadia told Christopher about the clinic in Tijuana. She had spent the last decade or so liberated by the fact that she could have children on her time table, not on anyone else’s. She didn’t treat each date as a man whom she could possibly marry. She could be relaxed and just enjoy her life.

They left the wine bar and headed over to the Mexican restaurant with burritos and frozen margaritas as big as your head.

“It’s a bit dumb to be eating Mexican food the day before we go to Tijuana,” Christopher said.

“The food there isn’t like this. This is American-Mexican food,” Nadia said.

Christopher nodded and sipped his drink. The tequila was making him sleepy.

The next day Christopher and Nadia boarded the plane. They each had two suitcases. Each one cost $100 to bring on the plane, but they would need everything that they packed.

After tipping the Uber driver generously, he helped them to unload their luggage at the Airbnb. On their way to the Fertility Clinic, they held hands, unable to contain their excitement. They had made this appointment ten months ago, the day after their engagement, and couldn’t wait to get started. Then they headed to the fertility clinic. Maria was there to welcome her. She had been promoted to Director of the International Department, and they hugged like long lost friends.

“You must be Christopher,” Maria said.

“The one and only,” Christopher smiled.

“Both of you can put on your hospital gowns and then come with me,” Maria said.

“Why do I have to wear a hospital gown?” Christopher asked, looking uncomfortable.

“We must maintain a sterile environment, Mr. Christopher,” she said.

A tech disinfected Christopher’s wheelchair, and they suited up and went through three steel doors that required fingerprints, retina scans, even a DNA sample. Finally, it was time.

The dark room mimicked the sounds of a womb. It was loud but calming. Maria walked them over to the sealed tank filled with thick fluid.

“Meet Baby Xlh9z56 and Baby Ynotg7h44,” Maria said with a tear in her eye. She had done this many times, but she had always felt a special connection with Nadia.

“Would you like to do the honors, Dad?” asked Maria. “The password is today’s date. Don’t forget the 20 for the year.”

“Ha! That’s the passcode for our Airbnb,” laughed Christopher.

They all chuckled. Then Christopher pressed the code for the first tank and then the second. Within five seconds, the fluids from both tanks came gushing out into the drainage system. Two nurses were ready with towels and scales. They were perfect. She weighed 6 pounds, four ounces; he weighed 7 pounds, two ounces. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful screams. They whisked the babies to the postnatal rooms. Both Nadia and Christopher took off their shirts to hold the babies skin to skin.

“They’re perfect,” Nadia cried as she gave her baby girl her first bottle.

“Yes,” Maria said. “They all are.”

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