his field of vision, was the unbelievable potential of a new human life.
Marissa’s eggs were indeed fine specimens, attesting to the expert administering of the hormones she’d been given during the ovarian hyper stimulation period. Dr. Wingate carefully inspected each of the eight eggs. They were all quite mature. Reverently, he placed them in a previously prepared, slightly pink culture medium within Falcon organ culture dishes. The dishes were then placed in an incubator that controlled the temperature and the gaseous concentrations.
Turning his attention to Robert’s sperm, which had been allowed to liquefy, Dr. Wingate started the process of capitation.
A perfectionist, he preferred to do all the cellular biology himself.
The efficacy of in-vitro fertilization was as much an art of the individual investigator as it was a science.
“Dr. Wingate!” Mrs. Hargrave called, coming into the lab.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s been another development with the Rebecca Ziegler case that needs your attention.”
Dr. Wingate looked up from his work.
“Can’t you handle it?” he asked.
“It’s the press, Dr. Wingate,” Mrs. Hargrave said.
“There’s evena mobile TV news crew. You’d better come.”
Reluctantly, Dr. Wingate looked at the flask containing Robert’s sperm. He hated it when his bureaucratic responsibilities interrupted his biological work. But as the director of the clinic, he had little choice. He glanced up at the nurse technician
“This is your chance,” he said to her.
“Go ahead and finish the capitation, the concentration, and the ‘swim up.” You’ve seen me do it often enough, so go to it. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Then he turned and left the room with Mrs. Hargrave.
“Mrs. Buchanan! Hello! Mrs. Buchanan! Are you with us?” a friendly voice called.
From the depths of a disturbing dream, Marissa became aware of the voice calling to her. She had been dreaming that she was stranded in the middle of a barren landscape. At first she tried to incorporate the voice into the dream, but the nurse was determined to rouse her.
“Mrs. Buchanan, your husband is here!”
Marissa opened her eyes. She was staring directly into the broadly smiling face of a nurse. The nurse’s name tag read “Judith
Holiday.” Marissa blinked to bring the rest of the room into focus. It was then she saw Robert standing behind the nurse, his Burberry coat over his arm.
“What time is it?” Marissa asked as she pushed herself up on an elbow. It felt as if she had only just gone to sleep. Surely Robert couldn’t have had time to have his meeting and get back.
“It’s four-fifteen in the afternoon,” Judith said as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Marissa’s arm and blew it up.
“How do you feel?” Robert asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Marissa said. She wasn’t entirely sure. The Valium was still in her system. Her mouth felt as dry as the desert landscape in her dream. She was amazed that the day had passed so quickly.
“Vital signs are okay,” Judith said as she removed the cuff. “if you’re up to it, you’re free to go on home.” arissa swung her legs over the side of the bed. She felt a momentary dizzy sensation. It reoccurred when she slid off the bed and her feet touched the cold floor.
How do you feel?” Judith asked her.
,arissa said she was all right, just feeling a little weak. She took a drink from a glass on the side table. She felt better.
“Your clothes are in the closet,” Judith said.
“Will you need any help?”
“I don’t think so,” Marissa said. She smiled weakly at the friendly and helpful nurse.
“Just yell if you do,” Judith said as she backed out the door.
She closed it, but not all the way. It stood ajar by about three inches.
“Let me,” Robert said as he saw Marissa start toward the closet.
Twenty minutes later, Marissa found herself walking unsteadily down the front steps of the clinic. She got into the
Marissa’s eggs were indeed fine specimens, attesting to the expert administering of the hormones she’d been given during the ovarian hyper stimulation period. Dr. Wingate carefully inspected each of the eight eggs. They were all quite mature. Reverently, he placed them in a previously prepared, slightly pink culture medium within Falcon organ culture dishes. The dishes were then placed in an incubator that controlled the temperature and the gaseous concentrations.
Turning his attention to Robert’s sperm, which had been allowed to liquefy, Dr. Wingate started the process of capitation.
A perfectionist, he preferred to do all the cellular biology himself.
The efficacy of in-vitro fertilization was as much an art of the individual investigator as it was a science.
“Dr. Wingate!” Mrs. Hargrave called, coming into the lab.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s been another development with the Rebecca Ziegler case that needs your attention.”
Dr. Wingate looked up from his work.
“Can’t you handle it?” he asked.
“It’s the press, Dr. Wingate,” Mrs. Hargrave said.
“There’s evena mobile TV news crew. You’d better come.”
Reluctantly, Dr. Wingate looked at the flask containing Robert’s sperm. He hated it when his bureaucratic responsibilities interrupted his biological work. But as the director of the clinic, he had little choice. He glanced up at the nurse technician
“This is your chance,” he said to her.
“Go ahead and finish the capitation, the concentration, and the ‘swim up.” You’ve seen me do it often enough, so go to it. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Then he turned and left the room with Mrs. Hargrave.
“Mrs. Buchanan! Hello! Mrs. Buchanan! Are you with us?” a friendly voice called.
From the depths of a disturbing dream, Marissa became aware of the voice calling to her. She had been dreaming that she was stranded in the middle of a barren landscape. At first she tried to incorporate the voice into the dream, but the nurse was determined to rouse her.
“Mrs. Buchanan, your husband is here!”
Marissa opened her eyes. She was staring directly into the broadly smiling face of a nurse. The nurse’s name tag read “Judith
Holiday.” Marissa blinked to bring the rest of the room into focus. It was then she saw Robert standing behind the nurse, his Burberry coat over his arm.
“What time is it?” Marissa asked as she pushed herself up on an elbow. It felt as if she had only just gone to sleep. Surely Robert couldn’t have had time to have his meeting and get back.
“It’s four-fifteen in the afternoon,” Judith said as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Marissa’s arm and blew it up.
“How do you feel?” Robert asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Marissa said. She wasn’t entirely sure. The Valium was still in her system. Her mouth felt as dry as the desert landscape in her dream. She was amazed that the day had passed so quickly.
“Vital signs are okay,” Judith said as she removed the cuff. “if you’re up to it, you’re free to go on home.” arissa swung her legs over the side of the bed. She felt a momentary dizzy sensation. It reoccurred when she slid off the bed and her feet touched the cold floor.
How do you feel?” Judith asked her.
,arissa said she was all right, just feeling a little weak. She took a drink from a glass on the side table. She felt better.
“Your clothes are in the closet,” Judith said.
“Will you need any help?”
“I don’t think so,” Marissa said. She smiled weakly at the friendly and helpful nurse.
“Just yell if you do,” Judith said as she backed out the door.
She closed it, but not all the way. It stood ajar by about three inches.
“Let me,” Robert said as he saw Marissa start toward the closet.
Twenty minutes later, Marissa found herself walking unsteadily down the front steps of the clinic. She got into the
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