Day 4: Fertility Treatment Center

Side effect watch: Last night, Leah said that there were times yesterday afternoon where all she wanted to do was cry. This could be anxiety over the next month looking for a release, but Leah's not the kind of person who just starts crying. I wonder about the things that I'm putting into her body.

This morning I gave Leah her second round of injections. This morning she wanted them in her abdomen. I warmed the pen by rolling it in my hands before administering the shot. Our IVF Coordinator says that if the shot isn't warmed a little, it will sting.

You're supposed to grasp the abdomen firmly when administering the injections. By nature I'm a gentle, cautious person. When I gave the shots this morning, I apparently didn't grab firmly enough, and Leah was crying from the sting.

We have our second testing visit at Fertility Treatment Center tomorrow. FTC is a maze. I had been there six or seven times before I began to figure the place out. I wonder sometime if this isn't purposeful. There's an expertise and an ease that the employees show with the space that inspires confidence.

The building on the outside is cold and modern. All poured concrete and painted steel. The building itself is located at the ASU Research Park, and is named the Reproductive Medical Center. As far as I can tell, the only businesses there are the FTC and the pharmacy where they dispense the medications. Inside, the building is much warmer. I sometimes think about the designer of the space. The ceilings are higher than most doctors' offices, and there is lots of overhanging wood that breaks up the severe angles. Someone enjoys Eastern art, because there are pieces that can best be described as Oriental hanging here and there. In the reception area and the lounge where patients wait to pay they have flat-panel televisions playing movies on a loop. I'm always surprised and delighted by the movies that they choose to screen.

What isn't on display is the technology itself. The patient rooms are no different that those at a general practitioner's--maybe an obstetrician's. The room where the semen samples are collected are a little more designed and decorated. There are Oriental line paintings and a nicely designed sink. There's a hamper like the ones they have at Pier One Imports. Once there was a cracked door in the hallway and when I peeked inside I saw the molded plastic and unintelligible screens that one comes to expect from a high-technology medical space. It was the andrology lab.

I'm always a little more surprised by what the space lacks. There's little sense of humanity there. There are no photographs on the walls unless a nurse leaves her office open except for in the business office. There's no sense of humor--I'd like to think that some classy erotic paintings would enliven the collection rooms. The space reminds me of a nice law office.

I'm not certain that this is a good thing. The place reminds us that these people know what they're doing. But it doesn't usually say that we are important to them. There's a feeling that the place would get along just as well without us.

One would hope that the office would be willing to reflect their many successes. I worry sometimes that I never see them.