Baby Trap Page 9

  ****

  ‘What a bloody day!’ Karl came home at 8 p.m. as I was pacing the floor. Eight o’ clock! Didn’t he know the urgency? I was ovulating for God’s sake. What if we missed it? What if my follicle popped out and we hadn’t even done it yet? It would be another month lost. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ I verbally pounced on him as soon as he got through the door.

  ‘And hello to you, too. I’ve been at work.’ He dumped his briefcase on the kitchen table and opened it, spreading out various bundles of paper. ‘Clive’s sprung a big presentation on me for tomorrow morning. I’ve got to get these reports done tonight.’ He loosened his tie and sat down, bending his head over all the paperwork. ‘Is dinner ready? I’m starving.’

  ‘No, I thought we’d eat later. We need to have sex.’ I stared at his hunched-over back as he grabbed a pen and scribbled furiously like he hadn’t heard me. A few minutes passed before I said, ‘Did you hear me?’

  ‘Huh?’ He didn’t look up.

  ‘We need to have sex. Now.’

  ‘I’ve got reports to do. Let me just finish this and then we can have sex.’ He shuffled bits of paper around.

  ‘No, we need to have it now. What if I miss ovulating?’

  ‘Later,’ he said firmly. ‘A few hours won’t make that much difference.’

  ‘Actually, it might. That’s the whole point. There’s no point in taking all these horrible drugs if we’re not going to get to the sex part. We need to do it now!’

  He swung around, his facial muscles hardening. ‘For fuck’s sake, Gina, a couple of hours isn’t going to make a difference.’

  ‘Yes, it might. Come on, it won’t take long. We’ll just have a quickie and you can get back to your reports.’ My voice quavered with a sudden panic. We had to do it now. Now. Not later. Right this second. Premature follicle popping was not an option! Why didn’t he understand the urgency? The timing was crucial.

  ‘No. It won’t make a difference.’ He narrowed his eyes at me, his voice sharpening. ‘When are you going to realize that the world doesn’t revolve around you? People have got other things to do than have bloody sex whenever you say! This is a very important presentation. God, I’m under pressure from you, under pressure from Clive.’ He turned his back on me and resumed scribbling. ‘Do you remember when we actually used to have lives that didn’t revolve around getting pregnant?’

  I felt myself getting hotter and hotter, simmering away under the surface. It didn’t matter what he thought. When we had a baby, all of this would be worth it. ‘But we might miss ovulation. It’s all right for you. You’re not the one who has to take all these bloody tablets all the time that mess up your hormones. All you’ve got to do is turn up and ejaculate.’ I tried to stay calm but heard my voice cranking up a couple of notches. ‘I’d say you’ve got the easy end of the deal, wouldn’t you?’

  He threw his pen down on the table and stood up, turning to face me. ‘No,’ he yelled back. ‘I wouldn’t, since I have to put up with your mood swings and neurotic behaviour!’

  ‘I’m not neurotic! One of us has to make sure we know when the right time is. I’m just being practical, not neurotic.’ Yes, that was it. I was just using my common sense, so, in fact, I was actually being very level-headed about the whole thing. ‘I’d love it if men were the ones who had to get pregnant. Ha! I’d like to see you have to check for egg white every month and deal with too much testosterone flying around all the time so you had sudden urges to strangle people. Or have acid dye blasted up the end of your willy after it’s been gauged open by a speculum!’ Then I bit my lip to avoid blurting out anything else in anger. I had to walk on eggshells around him so I didn’t upset him in case he refused to have sex with me. God, that sounds terrible, doesn’t it? He’d never actually refused to have sex with me when it was the right time of the month, but he hated all the sex-to-order. Hell, so did I! After all this time, it’s like we’re just going through the motions, like robots. And now it always seems like there’s something hanging between us, whether it’s stress, drugs, fear, resentment, I can feel it, and I know Karl can, too.

  He started gathering all the papers up and stuffing them back in his briefcase.

  Great, finally he was getting the message. Sex. ‘Come on, then,’ I said. ‘Shall we go upstairs?’

  He pressed the locks closed on his case with a loud click. ‘No. I’m not going upstairs. I’m going somewhere that I can finish this work in peace. And the last thing I feel like doing right now is having sex with you!’ He spat out the last word like I was some kind of leper. And before I could tie him down or rugby tackle him to the floor to have sex, he stormed out, slamming the front door.

  I stared down the empty hallway. What was I going to do now? No, no, no. I couldn’t miss out this month. We had to do it. Agh!

  I picked up my mobile and texted “Sorry.”

  No reply.

  I left it five minutes then texted “Really sorry.”

  Nothing.

  I managed to wait another ten minutes then sent, “Really, really, really sorry.’

  Deafening silence. I looked at my phone to make sure it had a signal or the battery hadn’t died.

  Nope. Everything was in working order.

  Half an hour went by, then I texted. “Love you.”

  Ten minutes later, I still hadn’t had a reply so I phoned his mobile. It rang and rang, then went to voicemail.

  Bugger. I’d just have to leave a message. ‘Look, I’m really sorry about that. It’s just that it feels like time is running out, and it’s not like I can accurately predict when I’m going to ovulate, so we need to make sure your sperm is already there when it does. Can you come back, please?’

  Nothing.

  Half an hour later, I sent him another text. “Please come back.”

  Nothing.

  We didn’t normally fight. I know that sounds weird, but it’s true. Before all the hormones turned me into a paranoid Looney Tune, we hardly ever had a crossed word. All I wanted him to do was come back and hold me. Tell me everything would work out.

  I rang again another ten times and they all went to voicemail. OK, so maybe that was the slightly neurotic behaviour Karl was talking about, but I was a woman on a mission and a woman obsessed. And that was the thing about obsession – it escalates and can’t be controlled. You’re absolutely and utterly powerless to do anything to stop it.

  When it got to 11 p.m., I was flitting between worry and anger.

  How dare he walk out on me when it was the right time of the month!

  Oh, no, what if he’s been in an accident!

  This is so unfair of him to punish me. It’s not like I’m asking for much – only his willy.

  Where the hell is he? Is he OK?

  Bastard.

  I sat on the bottom step in the hallway, staring at the door, willing him to come back.

  Please, Zelda, make him come back and have sex. I know you’re probably getting pissed off with me, too. But…

  My ears pricked up at the sound of his key in the lock.

  As he opened the door, he stood there staring at me.

  I stared back.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ we both gushed at once.

  I rushed into his arms where he enveloped me in a warm hug.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ I asked.

  ‘Down the pub.’

  ‘Did you finish your reports?’

  ‘Yes.’ His fingers stroked my back. ‘Gina, you have to calm down. You’re driving me crazy.’ He shook his head sadly.

  I nodded into his shoulder, unable to speak. I was driving myself crazy, too. At this rate, I’d be in the loony bin in a few months. ‘I know.’ I nuzzled into his neck, gently kissing the top of his ear. ‘But it’s a complete nightmare being pumped full of hormones. You don’t know what it’s like. It’s like I’ve been taken over by the Invasion of the Body Snatchers. One minute I’m bawling my eyes out, and the next I want to murder
perfectly innocent people. I’ve got no control over my emotions anymore. I know I’ve been a pain in the arse lately, but timing sex around ovulation is absolutely essential.’

  ‘I know it’s tough on you, and I know how desperately you want this, but unless you start to chill out a bit it’s not going to get us anywhere.’ He picked me up in his arms and carried me upstairs.

  Chi and Rabbits

  All these months everyone had been telling me to relax, which actually had the opposite effect on me. It made me want to murder them in very slow, painful ways.

  But, deep down I knew they were right, which meant I needed to do something drastic to help before I ended up mad. Well, madder than I already was.

  So when my period arrived yet-a-bloody-gain, I decided I needed to start taking action. And who better to call than Poppy?

  ‘Can you recommend anything holistic that will increase my fertility and relax me?’ I asked her over the phone.

  ‘Oh, yes. There are a lot of things that might help. Feng Shui can increase fertility energy in your environment around the house. Acupuncture has achieved a high success rate with infertility. It’s especially good to combat stress and rebalance yourself. Or you could try yoga for calmness and wellbeing. Honestly, I think this could be just what you need.’

  ‘OK, great.’ I scribbled everything down.

  ‘It’s up to you if you want to try one thing at a time or everything at once. It can’t hurt.’

  Hell, yeah. No point beating around the bush. I was going to do everything at once!

  ‘Thanks, Poppy. Any news with you yet?’

  ‘No,’ she said, although her voice was as upbeat and positive as usual. ‘It will happen when it’s right. We’re going to start another round of IVF soon.’

  ‘Well, I’ve got my fingers crossed for you. I’ll phone you soon.’ I hung up and got straight on the Internet to look for a Feng Shui practitioner near me.

  ****

  At 3 p.m. the next day Amanda Groves, feng shui Consultant to the stars, no less, was on my doorstep. According to her website, she’d feng shuid top actors and actresses, as well a few models and singers, so she must be pretty good at her job.

  She was younger than I thought. Probably the same age as me, with bright red curly hair that screamed of energy and abundance.

  ‘Hi.’ She extended her hand with a beaming smile and gave me a warm handshake.

  ‘Hi. Come in.’ I waved her in.

  ‘Actually, before I start I have to point out something to you.’ She turned around and looked over her shoulder behind the front entrance.

  I followed her gaze. All I could see was a small silver birch tree, a wall, and then the street.

  ‘In feng shui the front door is the mouth of chi, which means it’s where all the energy enters your home. You should ensure there’s nothing in direct line with the door, such as a tree or street or other object, that can block the flow of positive energy. It needs to be a clean and beautiful area.’

  ‘Right.’ I scratched my head. ‘I could always cut the tree down.’ But what about the street? Not much I could do about that, except move house.

  She turned back to me and nodded. ‘Yes, that would help a great deal.’

  I took her jacket and hung it up as she looked around the hallway with critical eyes.

  ‘Let’s start downstairs and then finish in the bedroom, which is one of the most important areas for fertility,’ she said.

  I grabbed a pad and paper and followed her around.

  ‘You should put a brass wind chime in the entry way to welcome energy into the house,’ she said.

  I scribbled that down furiously.

  ‘And plant a fruit tree in the back garden, away from the door. Fruit trees are an ancient symbol of fertility, and the more fruit they bear, the higher your chances of conceiving.’

  ‘OK.’ Maybe I could cheat and buy one with loads of fruit on already.

  ‘The whole idea of feng shui is to create a sense of inner harmony and balance in your life, promote positive energy, and protect you from negative forces,’ Amanda said.

  ‘Well, I definitely need a hefty dose of harmony.’

  She wandered into the lounge and eyed a wilting peace lily in the corner. ‘You need to make sure all plants in the house are well cared for.’

  I grabbed a glass of water from the coffee table and poured it into the pot. Da da!

  She frowned at some Baby Expert magazines and How to Get Pregnant books, haphazardly left open on the coffee table, and Karl’s dirty socks on the floor that he’d left there the night before. ‘You need to ensure the whole house is clutter-free. Clutter depletes the chi energy and may make it difficult to conceive,’ she said.

  I jotted that down: No stinky socks or books to be left out.

  Eyeing the sofa in front of the window she said, ‘Hmm.’

  Oh, God, what did that mean? Would we have to buy a new sofa because the old one wasn’t chi friendly?

  She pointed at it. ‘The windows should remain unblocked to allow the chi to flow without bumping into things. You’ll need to move the sofa.’

  I stared around the room. Right, so I could just move it to the opposite side of the wall. But then it would mean rewiring the TV and stereo that were in the way. Never mind, Karl could do that.

  She pulled out a compass and studied it with thought, glancing up now and then. Next, she pointed to one side of the house. ‘This is the west sector, which is associated with children. You need to put something in the west areas of the house like a bright light, candles, white flowers, and fresh fruit.’

  Got ya!

  An hour later, we ended up in the bedroom.

  Out with the compass again. ‘Your husband should sleep with his head facing the northwest, so you’ll need to move the bed over there.’ She pointed to one wall.

  She knelt down and peered under the bed, then let out a small gasp.

  Uh-oh. I didn’t even want to think about what was under there. I hadn’t cleared it out since we’d moved in five years ago. I usually just Hoovered around everything underneath it.

  I knelt down next to her. An exercise mat, piles of books, a bicycle pump and a very uncomfortable looking bicycle seat (that was on Karl’s side; what the hell was that doing there?), some dumbbells, a box of photos and mementoes from Mum, and a cheese grater (Oh, that’s where I’d put it! I’d been looking for that for ages. These hormone tablets were making me forgetful, too).

  ‘You have to move everything out from under the bed and keep it clear. Don’t store anything under there at all.’ She smiled at me. ‘Normally, you need to make sure the house is completely clean and clear. No dishes left in the sink, windows cleaned inside and out regularly, sinks and toilets in good working order, everything clutter-free. But with this area we’re going to break one of the feng shui rules.’ She paused, making sure she had my full attention. ‘Once you’ve cleaned it, don’t touch the area again until after the baby is born.’

  Well, obviously I wouldn’t have any problem breaking that particular rule. And anyway, in my defence of being an undomestic goddess, I’d been far too busy lately trying to get pregnant to worry about cleaning. I mean, seriously, what was more important?

  ‘If you sweep or Hoover under the bed once you activate the lucky fertility energy, you’ll be undoing all the positive chi you’ve attracted.’ She looked at me sternly to make sure that sank in.

  I made a note of it just in case I suddenly developed a mad under-the-bed cleaning urge. Not likely, but then anything was possible with my hormone-infested brain lately.

  ‘Pomegranates,’ she said.

  ‘Er…pardon?’

  ‘Pomegranates are a symbol of fertility. If you get a picture with a pair of pomegranates on them, sliced open, that will bring you good luck.’

  ‘Check,’ I said, writing it down. God knows what Karl was going to think about that.

  ‘Elephants, storks, and rabbits are also associated with fertility. You
could get a pair of elephants and place them on either side of the bedroom door. Or a pair of rabbits.’

  Well, I already had a pair of Rabbits in my bedside drawer. Rampant Rabbit Thrust Deluxes, no less. Surely I’d get double points for those.

  ‘And put a pair of dragons on your husband’s bedside table,’ she said.

  Half an hour later, she’d gone, and I was straight on the phone to Kerry and Amelia to see if they fancied a shopping trip on Saturday.

  Karl arrived home at 7 p.m. after I’d had a frantic clear out and furniture rearranging session.

  ‘What’s happened to the tree?’ He found me in the bedroom, hot and sweaty, pulling out the last of the stuff from under the bed.

  ‘It was blocking the chi,’ I said.

  He just nodded at me slowly. ‘Right. And why are your vibrators on either side of the bedroom door?

  ‘Rabbits are fertility symbols,’ I said, as if he really should know better.

  He looked at me like I’d just told him his head was on fire. ‘God, I need a drink.’

  WWF Wrestling

  Kerry, Amelia, and I were in Starbucks in town on Saturday. I eyed Amelia’s caramel latte, my mouth watering with lust. How long had it been since I’d had one? I couldn’t even remember now. I stared down at my iced rooibos tea that tasted like gone-off urine. Not that I’ve ever tasted urine, you understand. Yes, I’d contemplated some weird things in my quest to get pregnant, but drinking urine definitely wasn’t one of them. Even though I saw on the Internet there was this African tribe in a village in the middle of nowhere that swore by it. Apparently, they had the most fertile women in the whole country because of their wee-drinking fetish. Popping them out like there was no tomorrow, they were. No, I’d just stick to my feng shui shopping list for now.

  Kerry looked a lot happier than I’d seen her the other day. Not a puffy eye or sniffy nose in sight.

  ‘Well…?’ I tilted my head, prompting Kerry to give us the latest.