Date:         Fri, 13 Jun 1997 08:56:39 -0500
From: Phanny <corbett@SLUAXA.SLU.EDU>
Subject:      SUB: CONTEST: Humor: Essay: Game

NOTE: I'm giving this entry a generic "title" for your voting purposes, as
the author did not submit a title.  -- Phanny


         The rules of the baby game seem fairly straightforward to the
beginner.  At the first ring of the biological alarm clock, you count
backward nine months from Memorial Day (which gives you time to trim
up for Fourth of July, opening day of Bathing Suit Season in New
England); clean out the extra room that's now filled with junk; assess
the bank account and take a blood oath with your husband that you'll
both start saving more money; and start clipping Pampers coupons from
the Sunday newspaper.
        Then you wait. And wait.
        Finally, you reread the rules, which say: Go directly to the
doctor's office; do not pass maternity; do not collect your 200 jars
of baby food.
        Now, the game grows more complicated. Instead of playing in
the privacy of your own home, you must play in a public arena where
cheerleaders try to keep your spirits up, coaches sketch out a
strategy for you try to follow, and specialists analyze and scrutinize
your every move.
        To understand the language of the game, you must arm yourself
with volum es of books that define medical terms and spell out
acronyms. To win the game, you must figure out a way around certain
obstacles; some are simply annoying, some are simply painful, and
others are seemingly insurmountable. To participate in the game, you
must play with real money -- and the stakes are high. But the real
trick is knowing when the game is over, because there aren't always
winners.
        Infertility treatment has come a long way since my mother and
other wome n of her generation played this game, and the rules have
changed a lot. Before, players depended more on fate than on
doctors. If you were lucky, you "found yourself with child."  Today,
doctors know a whole lot more, and for many women, technology has
replaced the roll of the dice.
        Before beginning, however, you should be aware that even
though you ofte n play this game as a husband-and-wife team, the
playing time is not always equally distributed. You are the lead
player who starts every new round. Your husband or partner is the
second string; he must be prepared and ready to step up under the
glare of the examining light when it is his turn, but it seems he
seldom gets the call.
        Once you've committed to the game, you must resign yourself to
the well-meaning friends and relatives who feel compelled to cheer you
on. They understand the object of the game, but when you try to
explain the maneuvers you've tried, and the details of your current
strategy, they may innocently ask: "Have you tried just relaxing?
Relaxing? Relaxing is a candlelight dinner, some red wine, and jazz on
the stereo. These folks have obviously never tried relaxing with a
thermometer.
        Then there are the pom pon wavers who secretly desire to be
coaches. The y send you articles they've clipped from newspapers about
how drinking coffee can cause fertility problems; how eating yams can
counteract infertility; and how standing on your head adds the law of
gravity to the egg-plus-sperm equation. Well, if that's all it took to
hit the jackpot I'd throw my sacrificial coffee pot to the wolves
while standing on my head eating yams.
        Another part of the game is finding a coach you trust, a coach
you like, a coach who doesn't have cold hands. Then you have to learn
to interpret the signals of your coach. When he or she tells you a
procedure may cause slight discomfort, that mean's it's really going
to hurt. When the doctor's receptionist tells you to have seat because
the appointments are a bit backed up, that means you'll have time to
finish War and Peace. If the technician tells you she's just going to
draw a few small samples of blood, get ready to open a vein. And if
your doctor tells you he or she is not sure how much this whole
process will cost, better head for the bank to apply for a second
mortgage.
        If and when your doctor refers you to a specialist, be aware
that you ma y either lose a turn, or receive a penalty and be forced
to go back a few spaces. Specialists often scoff at your former
coach's strategy, and insist upon retracing your moves according to
their game plan.
        Once the specialist is in control, you must learn to interpret
in code.  For example, a specialist in ART may have you chart your BBT
to determine if you are producing enough FSH. If you are unlikely to
conceive without ART, you may choose to try IUI, IVF, GIFT, or
ZIFT. If you are adept at this game, you quickly become a cryptologist
and translate this alphabet soup to get the real story. In lay
person's terms, this means if, after a battery of tests, you are
considered unlikely to conceive without high-tech help, you may choose
from a menu of options: fertilization inside or outside the womb, with
or without your husband as donor, with our without your egg.
        If you get this far in the game, it becomes difficult to see
if you are any closer to winning. You know more -- more doctors, more
receptionists, more x-ray technicians, more about the reproductive
system than you ever really wanted to know.
        You find yourself hating those early winners who collected
their embryo and went home; you suspect they cheated somehow. Your
also find yourself beginning to wish that some of those "old wives
tales" about where babies come from were true. Maybe you could buy a
stork and train it to deliver a baby. Or you could plant a cabbage
patch, and collect a baby during the harvest. Or perhaps swallowing a
watermelon seed really would bring fruit.
        The reality, though, is the game could continue for a long
time. It's hi ghly unlikely the game will be called on account of,
say, Immaculate Conception.  You may give up and, miraculously it
seems, conceive and give birth some time later -- without doctors,
without test tubes, without petri dishes. Doctors have little
explanation for this phenomenon. Well-meaning friends would say: "See,
you finally relaxed."
        Then again, you may choose to keep playing. However, the more
technologically advanced and experimental the procedures, the less the
odds for success are in your favor. But because the prize you seek is
priceless, you may try to win no matter what the cost.
        As for me, I'll ante up for another round. Maybe a few
rounds. Gamblers are a superstitious lot, though, so I'm stocking up
on yams just in case.  
-end-