“There is a difference between what I do and what they do,” he argued and shook his head again. “They’re about to see pretty girl, and to be honest, I don’t know how I feel about that because I ain’t even seen her before.” He stood, put his hands on the top of his head, and started to pace. Every few steps, he would look at me, kiss his teeth, then turn away from me. “I’ma kill them niggas.” He nodded. “That’s what I’m going to have to do because ain’t no way this is going to be cool. I’on like it. Nah, nope.”
“Amethyst-”
“I try to be a cool nigga, stay in my lane, don’t overstep, but you know the last twenty-four hours have been a little too much for my liking,” he said, talking to himself, and all I could do was lean against the wall and watch him. I was trying so hard not to laugh, but he really did look stressed, and I couldn’t understand why. “Sunshine is going in there, and another nigga is going to look.” He stopped, looked me up and down, then started pacing again. “Another fucking nigga gets to see pretty girl.” Hedropped his hands from his head and then lifted his head to look at the ceiling. “Lord, I’m a patient nigga, but I don’t know how much longer you expect me to be strong. I’m weak, I’m flesh, and honestly, I’m criminally insane, and you are testing me, my guy.”
“Amethyst,” I laughed as I called his name.
He lowered his head and looked at me with a serious expression. “I’m praying, give me a second,” he said, then shook his head. “I know you know better than to interrupt a nigga when he’s talking to the man upstairs. You’re important, but let me pray in peace, please.”
“Go on,” I said, throwing my hands up in surrender and trying not to laugh in his face. This man had no sense.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding. “Now back to you.” He pointed to the ceiling. “I cannot handle the thought of this, my guy. Please give me something, or I’m going to snap. Probably get fired and shit because of this girl.” He pointed at me, and my mouth dropped open in surprise. How was I getting blamed for him not listening? If he gave me a chance to talk, I would tell him that my doctor is a woman, but no, his crazy ass was going on and on. “She really be trying me, man. I know you said you would never put anything on us that we couldn’t bear, but I mean, be for real for a second with me. You gave me Yale Forrester!” He looked over at me, licked his lips, and smirked. “I ain’t got to bear her yet, and I know she’s going to be too much for me, but I swear to you I’m going to love every minute of it and try my hardest to survive.”
“Amethyst-”
“I’m speaking to the Lord, Yale, be my peace.” He gave me another sexy ass look, then turned his attention back to the ceiling. “I’m trying, sir, like for real, but shit!”
After a few moments, I pushed off the wall and went into the office. He could talk to himself in the hallway; I had an appointment to check in for.
“Welcome,” a young girl said when I approached the desk. She was pretty with her dark skin, full lips and the prettiest smile I’d ever seen.
“Hey, I have an appointment,” I said, setting my purse on the counter to retrieve my ID and insurance card. “My name is Yale Forrester.”
“Yes, ma’am, I have you right here,” she said, nodding. We had a brief exchange; I gave her my insurance card, and she gave me an iPad. “Fill out those forms, and when you’re done, I should be done with these.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the iPad. I went to a chair in the corner of the room and sat. My phone buzzed, and I looked at my watch to see that Amethyst had sent me a text.
Best person in the world: You left me out here, which is cool because I gotta go, but tell that nigga not to look at your pussy.
Me: Please find something safe to do and leave me alone.
Best person in the world: Keep thinking this is a game.
Me: I love you, Amethyst Stone lol
Best person in the world: Not nearly as much as I love you. As soon as I’m done, I’ll be back.
Best person in the world: And I’m serious, tell that nigga not to look at pretty girl.
I swiped out my text thread and went back to working on my intake forms. I could go back and forth with Amethyst all day if I weren’t careful, and I didn’t have time for that. Once I finished the forms, I took them to the desk, got my cards, and was escorted to the back. I gave a urine sample, my vitals were taken, and then I was taken to my room, where I waited for the doctor.
“Knock, knock,” a sweet voice said before the door opened. Dr. Gray Holding was like a breath of fresh air when she walked into the room. I’d been searching for years for a black Reproductive Endocrinologist and was relieved when my primary doctor recommended her. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” I answered as I shook her hand. “How are you?”
“I’m well,” she said, taking her seat across from me. She gave me a sweet smile that I couldn’t help but return. “I know you’re probably nervous and have a million questions, but let me start by saying thank you for choosing me to help you along this journey. I tell everyone who sits in that seat the same thing. I don’t know how this will end up, but I’m going to try my hardest to make sure that at the end of all this, you have a baby in your arms.” She sat back in her seat. “It’s not going to be easy; we are going to get frustrated and even cry a few times, but please understand that I am here at every step along the way. My team is good, nah, I’m being modest, and my little sister said I had to stop doing that, so I’m going to keep it real with you, okay?”
“Okay.”
“We are damn good. We aren’t perfect, but we are good as hell,” she said with a smile. “I want to add a picture of you and your baby on that wall.” She pointed to the wall to the left, which had a collection of pictures of women and babies. “Every time I add a picture, I heal a piece of my heart that knows I won’t be up there, but that’s okay because I’m doing this for you.”
“You can’t have kids?” I asked without thinking, then immediately regretted it. I covered my hand with my mouth and shook my head. “I’m so sorry, that was rude to ask.”
“No, it’s fine,” she laughed. “But to answer your question. No, I’m not able to have children, but that’s okay. I’ve been a part of hundreds, if not thousands, of stories that go along with how someone was able to, and I’m okay with that.”
“Okay,” I said, relaxing into my seat.
“Now, I looked over your file, and I want to start from the beginning. I want to undergo a comprehensive workup, despite your primary care physician and OB/GYN having already done so. After we do that and get the results, we can figure out what our game plan is then.” She turned to the computer and typed in a few things before turning to face me. “It says you’re married. Are we going to try to use your husband’s sperm?”
