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Chapter 135

Exactly two weeks after her consultation, Claire returned to the fertility clinic for a second appointment. Jamie came with her. Though it was a weekday, they had each managed to get the morning off again. Claire had talked to Dr. Somers at work a few days after the initial consultation, and he had kindly agreed that her schedule would remain flexible over the next few weeks, allowing her to take days off for appointments and rest after procedures when she needed them. He had always been so understanding when it came to her leukemia treatments that she had not been surprised, but she was definitely grateful.

It was a surprise to her that Jamie’s boss seemed equally understanding about the situation, allowing him to take off his second Wednesday morning in three weeks to be at the appointment with her. “He said that as long as I don’t have any meetings scheduled when you have your appointments, and as long as I keep up with my work, it’s okay to take off half-days to be with you,” he’d told her when he came home from work one day, kissing her sweetly.

She was more than happy with this arrangement because she wanted Jamie to be involved in the whole process. The baby they were striving for would be just as much his as hers, and she wanted him to share in the excitement, even as she kept telling herself not to get too excited yet – they had a long road ahead of them.

Their journey along that road would truly begin today, as Claire lay in an examining room with her legs splayed, letting the doctor poke and prod while Jamie waited outside. He returned when the examination part of the appointment was over, just in time to hear Dr. Nevin explain the different medications Claire would be taking for the next two weeks.

When the couple left the clinic that day, Claire had another card for her next appointment, at the end of the month, and two prescriptions, one for a nasal spray and one for a kind of tablets which, together, would ready her for the next step, the implantation of embryos into her womb.

***

Nick’s own “baby” – his solo album – was well underway by the middle of June. He’d met with various music producers, many of whom he’d worked with before on Backstreet Boys music, to collaborate on the songs he’d written himself, songs which he thought had a lot of potential. At the same time, he’d also been recording demos of songs written by others, which had been sent to him. He liked many of them, and all in all, he was very happy with how the process was going.

He still had the whole summer ahead of him, in which to record, and if all went well, he’d have his first single out by summer’s end, and an album in the fall. It was incredible, the way the project was coming together already, and he couldn’t wait to play some of his new material for the other guys.

Kevin was always showing off pictures of Brayden and telling stories about everything the kid did – Brayden’s first smile, Brayden’s first laugh, Brayden’s first baby talk, Brayden’s first time holding his head up, rolling over, sleeping a full night, taking a bottle… Nick felt like he knew everything about Kevin’s baby, and he was excited about introducing the guys to his “baby” in return, when the time was right.

***

On the last day of June, a Monday, Claire and Jamie were back at the fertility clinic for another exam and consultation. “Everything looks great so far,” said Dr. Nevin once she’d examined Claire. “The ultrasound shows that your endometrium has thickened the way we wanted it to, so we should be able to implant your embryos in two days. This will give the lab time to test the frozen embryos and thaw the ones that seem fit for transfer.”

“And how many embryos will you be transferring?” asked Claire. She knew that, usually, women in her position were implanted with more than one embryo to increase the chances of getting pregnant, since it was likely that not all of the embryos would develop further. This was the reason so many women who had undergone in vitro fertilization ended up having twins, triplets, or even more children at once. Claire could see herself with twins, even triplets, but she definitely didn’t want to have a “litter” of children. Any more than two or three kids at once, and she’d go nuts.

“Well, that’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” said Dr. Nevin, pulling up a stool so that she could sit down and talk to the couple face-to-face. “In most cases, we only implant one or two embryos in women under thirty. Often, even if two embryos are transferred, only one baby will result, though, of course, the chances of having twins goes up significantly.” Looking between Claire and Jamie, the doctor asked, “Have you considered the thought of having multiple babies? Is that a possibility you’d be willing to accept?”

“Oh, of course,” said Claire, as she looked to her husband. Right? she asked him silently.

Jamie nodded in agreement. “We knew there was a good chance of that going in. I figure, if God wants us to have more than one baby, then that’s what we’ll have. I think you should transfer as many as you think would be best, and He can take it from there.”

Dr. Nevin smiled. “Well, in that case, there’s something else I want to add. As I said, we usually transfer no more than two embryos into a woman under thirty, since there are higher pregnancy rates in younger women. However, with the age of your embryos, having been cryopreserved over five years ago, it will be harder to ensure a successful pregnancy. Although many healthy babies have been born from frozen embryos, the success rate is a little higher with fresh embryos.”

Claire nodded her understanding, though invisible fingers squeezed at her heart.

“I’d like the two of you to consider having three embryos implanted, instead of two,” Dr. Nevin advised. “With one more embryo, you have one more chance to become pregnant. On the other hand, the chance of having twins is also greater, and it is possible – not likely, but possible – that all three embryos would take, and you’d be expecting triplets. So what you have to ask yourselves before consenting to the number of embryos is, do you accept that possibility?”

Claire and Jamie exchanged glances again. This time, it was he who spoke first. “I’d be happy with a big family, if that’s what the Lord blessed us with,” he told her. “But you’re the one who would be carrying the babies, so it’s up to you.”

Claire found it hard to imagine the idea of three babies growing inside her at once. Yet she had to agree with Jamie. Even if they went ahead with three embryos, there was no guarantee, only a slight chance, that all three would survive in her womb. If they did, she would have to look at it as almost a miracle, a work of God’s hand. Either way, she believed that everything happened for a reason, and no matter what came out of this, she would have to accept that it was meant to be.

She took her husband’s hand and squeezed it. “Let’s go for it then.” Looking at Dr. Nevin, she added, “If you think using three would give us a better chance of having at least one baby, we want to do it. And if we end up having more than one… well, the more the merrier!”

The embryologist smiled and nodded. “Excellent. I’ll notify the lab, and we’ll set you up with an appointment for the embryo transfer in two days. In the meantime, you’ll need to start taking progesterone shots. Progesterone is a hormone that helps support the lining of the uterus – you’ll need to take it for at least two weeks, until we know whether or not you’re pregnant, and if you are, you’ll keep taking it for awhile after that.”

“Did you say shots?” interjected Jamie, looking pale.

Dr. Nevin offered him a grim smile. “Unfortunately, yes. Progesterone is usually given through injections or suppositories, and in your wife’s case, I think injections would be better; they offer a stronger dose…”

Claire had been prepared for this possibility and wasn’t too worried. She didn’t like the thought of having to give herself shots every day, but it seemed a small price to pay for a baby of her own, which she had no chance of having otherwise. Besides, she’d been through worse. She offered Jamie a brave smile and patted his hand. “It’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Believe it or not, I’m actually quite used to needles.”

Jamie blanched and looked away; she ignored him and turned back to the doctor, who said, “Let me get round up some supplies here, and I’ll show you how to give the injections now, since you’ll want to start with them today…”

She rummaged through various cabinets and drawers around the room and assembled a small array of supplies on a stainless steel tray. Disappearing into the hall once, she was gone a few minutes, then returned with a small bottle in her hand. “This is the progesterone,” she said, showing Claire. “The hormone itself is actually suspended in an oil that you’ll inject yourself with. You’ll use a 3 cc syringe with a 22 gauge needle, like this,” she added, brandishing a syringe with a needle that was thicker than Claire had expected. Her heart started to beat faster in anticipation as Dr. Nevin demonstrated how to pierce the vial of progesterone with the needle and fill the syringe with the proper dosage.

“Now,” said Dr. Nevin, “there are two different places you can take the injection, either the buttocks or the thigh. You can give it to yourself in the thigh, but it’d be better to have someone else administer it if you’re going to use the buttocks. It’s not so easy to see what you’re doing back there,” she added with a hint of a smile.

Somewhat amused at the idea of Jamie trying to give her a shot, Claire glanced over at him and found him staring back at her, eyes wide, face as white as a sheet. She laughed and turned back to Dr. Nevin. “I’ll just do it myself, in the thigh. You’re off the hook, dear,” she added to Jamie, winking at him. His pale cheeks flushed; he looked ashamed, yet relieved at the same time.

She wasn’t too put off by his reaction; she would have much more shocked if he’d actually volunteered. Besides, she trusted herself more than her husband when it came to anything medical, and trust, she thought, was especially important in a circumstance that involved a sharp needle and chemicals going into her body.

Dr. Nevin described where and how deep to inject herself and then handed her the syringe. “Here, why don’t you try this? Most women feel more confident about it once they’ve done it once, and they’re usually less apprehensive if they do it around a doctor.”

Claire nodded and took the syringe. Her hands trembled slightly as she crossed her legs and pushed up the thin material of the gown she was wearing, exposing the pale, white skin of her thigh.

“Remember what I said,” the doctor coached her, “put it at a ninety-degree angle and insert the needle quickly and smoothly, until it’s all the way in. Then you’ll pull back the plunger.”

Nodding again, Claire braced herself, flexing the muscles in her leg involuntarily, and carefully lowered the needle to her thigh. She hesitated just a moment, the tip poised a few inches above her skin, and then sucked in a deep breath and held it as she plunged the needle in. It hurt, and she winced, but once it was in, she decided the worst was over. Breathing shakily, she remembered the doctor’s instructions and slowly pulled up the plunger.

“Check and make sure there’s no blood in the syringe,” warned Dr. Nevin, leaning over for a look. “You don’t want to be in a blood vessel.”

But there was no hint of red in the clear syringe, so Claire went ahead and pushed the plunger down slowly, forcing the hormone compound into her body. When she pulled the needle out, Dr. Nevin handed her a gauze pad and said, “Apply pressure for about thirty seconds. Once the bleeding has stopped, you should immediately throw away the needle. You should pick up a small sharps container to dispose of the needles, or if you’d rather, you can use any unbreakable plastic container that you can seal, like a leftover laundry detergent bottle.”

“Okay,” Claire nodded, pressing the gauze against her thigh.

“And that’s all there is to it,” smiled Dr. Nevin. “It’s not fun, I know, but-”

“It’s worth it,” Claire finished, managing a smile back as she peeled up the gauze for a peek. There was still some blood seeping from the small hole in her leg, so she pushed it back down again.

Dr. Nevin patted her shoulder. “I’ll write out your prescription for the progesterone, and you should pick it up this afternoon. Follow the dosage instructions on the prescriptions, and I’ll check with you on how it’s going when I see you on Wednesday. Here’s your follow-up slip and some instructions on what to do before you come on,” she said, handing Claire two sheets of paper. “Just give the follow-up to the receptionist, and she’ll check my schedule and set up your embryo transfer.”

Claire smiled at Jamie, and a rush of exhilaration swept away the gentle throb in her leg as she realized that in just two days, she could be conceiving their children.

***

The album had already come a long way since its conception, thought Nick as he looked upon the lists of songs and CDs of demo tracks that were scattered across the table in front of him. Three different Jive execs sat around the table with him, and next to him was Johnny Wright, helping to delegate as they collectively discussed the songs that had already been recorded for Nick’s still-untitled solo album.

Nick had just finished recording the background vocals for one of the songs that morning, when he’d been pulled out of the sound booth to join his manager and the record execs for this meeting. It was too early to settle on a final track listing for the album, as Nick was still recording, but they did want a first single.

“If you can shoot the video and do the photo shoots in July, we’ll be able to release the song in August, during the usual back-to-school hype. The hot summer songs will be old by then, and your single will be something new, a song for the fall. Then we can drop the album in October or so, right before the holidays, which are sure to give your sales a boost when they’d otherwise be slowing down,” one of the representatives from Jive explained.

Nick could care less about the marketing aspect of it this time around. His expectations were low, after the relative low sales of Now or Never, but he wasn’t making this album for money or bragging rights. It was about so much more than that; it was about doing something personal, something all his own. It had taken him some time to get comfortable with performing again, after he’d battled cancer and lost his leg, but now that he was, it was time for him to show the world that he could still do it on his own, if they would listen. And if not, well… at least he’d be showing himself.

“Picking the right song is important,” added another of the execs, as if this was something Nick didn’t know. “We need something that’s both catchy and original, something that will get people talking.”

Nick mostly listened, rather than talked, as the Jive big-wigs discussed various tracks that were in contention for being put on the album. He’d sat through meetings like this for every album he’d been a part of and had learned by now that his own input counted very little. He and the guys had gained more creative control over their music as the years had gone by, but when it came to singles, the record company always had the final word. Even now, with his own solo record, he knew it would be no different. So he put forward his suggestions and then sat back to listen to the others critique them.

Several songs were argued over, but when the meeting came to a close, they had selected a first single that everyone liked, one that Jive could promote and Nick could be proud of, for it was one of the songs he’d written himself.

***

Claire woke up nervous on the day of her frozen embryo transfer. She tried to eat some breakfast, in hopes of settling the butterflies in her stomach, but she wasn’t very hungry, already too full with a mix of anxious excitement. It was strange to think that by the time she went to bed that night, she could be pregnant, though she wouldn’t know it. There would be no way to determine if the procedure had been successful or not for at least another two weeks, at which point a pregnancy test could start to show positive results. That meant she’d probably be stuck with the anxiety that plagued her now for two more weeks, if not longer. But, just as with the hormone shots she was taking daily now, it would all be worth it if, in fact, the procedure worked.

Jamie took the day off of work to be with her, and they left for the clinic early, knowing there would be paperwork to fill out. Once they had signed the appropriate consent forms, Claire was taken to a sterile room, and Jamie waited outside while the nurses prepped her for the transfer procedure. By the time he was allowed back in, she was dressed in a hospital gown and lying in bed, her feet in stirrups. It gave her déjà vu to be lying in a sterile room, gowned up, with medical equipment all around; she had to remind herself that this time, she was here for a good reason, and by her own choice.

“Sorry this isn’t the most romantic way to conceive a child,” she said to Jamie, flashing an impish smile. “I’d prefer candles to fluorescent lights, and lingerie to a hospital gown, but what can I say?”

Looking wan, Jamie managed a smile back.

Sensing his apprehension, she reached out and patted the chair one of the nurses had placed near the head of her bed. “Come sit with me. The nurse said Dr. Nevin should be in soon to start.”

Jamie sat down, still looking wary, but sweetly reached for her hand. “This is weird,” he confessed, looking around. “I keep thinking of that one X-Files episode, where the pregnant woman was implanted with an alien baby… you remember that one”

Claire gaped at her husband. “Uhh, Jamie, sweetheart? That’s not really what I want to hear right now.”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “I-I know… I’m sorry.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly. But even as he lowered her hand, absently rubbing the back of it, he looked troubled. “I just wonder… I mean, how do we really know these are our embryos?”

Horrified by the fears he was putting into her head, fears she hadn’t even considered, Claire jerked her hand out of his. “For God’s sake, will you stop it??” she demanded. “There’s enough rational fears to have without us going all Mulder and Scully and start making up conspiracy theories here.”

“Sorry, sorry, I know,” Jamie apologized, smoothing back her hair. He stood and kissed her forehead, then sat back down and proceeded to start taping his foot. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap…

Claire was incredibly relieved when Dr. Nevin arrived, accompanied by a male doctor. “Claire, Jamie, good morning,” she greeted them with a smile. “Are you all ready??”

Pushing all thoughts of alien fetuses and strangers’ embryos aside, Claire smiled back and gave Jamie’s hand a tight, bone-crushing squeeze. “We sure are.”

“Great. This is Dr. Paulie, one of my colleagues. He’s going to observe the procedure today. It’s our policy to always have two doctors in the room for an embryo transfer, just to ensure that there are no mix-ups – best to always double check, right?”

Claire nodded, her smile wavering as she thought about how much she wished her doctor hadn’t even brought up the possibility of “mix-ups.”

While Dr. Paulie checked the equipment around Claire to ensure that everything had been set up correctly, Dr. Nevin sank down onto a stool near the foot of the bed. “Just to brief you on a few things before we get started,” she said, “I had the lab thaw four of your embryos so that we could pick the best three to implant. Not all embryos survive the thawing process, so it’s best to thaw more than you’re going to use. Two of the thawed embryos look to be of very good quality, so we’ll definitely be implanting those. A third does not have as many cells as those two, but since you consented to three, I’d like to go ahead and transfer it anyway; it could still implant and catch up to the others. The fourth did not thaw well, so we’ll have to just dispose of that one, but it looks like you have at least two, potentially three viable embryos.”

“That’s good news,” said Claire, her voice light. She was getting anxious again and wished they would just get started.

Appearing to sense her anxiety, Dr. Nevin smiled again. “Do you have any questions before we begin the transfer?” she asked, looking from Claire to Jamie.

Neither of them had any – thankfully, Jamie didn’t ask the doctor how her clinic ensured that aliens could not penetrate the cryogenic storage lab – and so, the procedure began. Dr. Nevin sat on her stool at the foot of Claire’s bed with an ultrasound monitor turned towards her, while one of the nurses stood at the side, guiding the transducer probe over Claire’s lower abdomen so that the doctor could see what she was doing. There was a TV screen in Claire and Jamie’s line of sight that connected to the ultrasound, allowing them to watch the procedure too.

It was hard to tell what was actually going on, based on the blurred images on the screen, but the two doctors kept up a running commentary as they worked, walking the couple through the procedure. Claire held Jamie’s hand tightly as she stared at the TV, watching the doctor inject the syringe that contained their three tiny embryos into the catheter that had been carefully thread through her cervix and into her uterus.

The procedure was surprisingly simple and painless, for the most part, and only took twenty minutes. When it was over, Dr. Nevin removed the catheter and, together with Dr. Paulie, checked it carefully to make sure all three embryos had passed through it. “Looks good,” she told Claire after a few minutes. “I’d like you to lie still and rest for awhile, to give the embryos a chance to settle. I’ll come check in with you in about half an hour.”

“Thank you so much,” Claire said gratefully, feeling a rush of relief now that the transfer was over. The embryos were inside of her, and all she and Jamie had to do now was wait, wait and pray that at least one of them would keep growing.

***

Sitting in a makeup chair, while two stylists buzzed around him, one raking product through his hair while the other dusted blush across his cheeks, Nick read through the music video treatment the director had typed up for a final time, ignoring everything around him.

It was now the second week of July, and he was scheduled to shoot the video for his first single over the next two days. Several different directors had sent in treatments, and he’d bypassed a few of the more accomplished ones for a newer director, who had less videos to his credit, but a vision for the song that had appealed to Nick the most. The concept was simple, but mature, with a lot of imagery and some subtle effects that Nick thought would look good on screen.

He’d met with the director early that morning and gone over the treatment one last time before he’d been whisked away by the stylists, put into wardrobe, and thrust into the makeup chair. Doing music videos always made Nick feel almost like a movie star, which was still fun, even after years and years of doing it. He’d always enjoyed acting, as well as singing, and loved the idea of stepping into a role, playing a character other than himself. Though his own perspective had driven the lyrics to this song, he still viewed the job as acting.

When the stylists finished their work, he looked into the mirror and found himself looking a hundred percent better than he had when he’d woken up that morning. Ready to be in front of the camera, he was taken onto one of the sets, where the director was waiting.

As the morning wore on, he moved from set to set, lip-synching his own song in front of a green screen and various backdrops, following the director’s cues as he acted wordlessly in other settings.

“Now you’re going to walk along the mantle, looking at the various photos. You don’t have to walk too slowly; we’ll put it in slow-mo for the final cut. Now pick up that last picture, hold it in your hand – good. Now stare at it; you’re sad, you’re full of longing, you’re remembering; the memory is bittersweet, almost painful to think about… great. Cut!” The director shouted and smiled at Nick from amid the large cameras. “Great expression there; I think that shot is gonna be a keeper. You want a look?”

Nodding, Nick left the fireplace set and walked over to where the director was standing, scrutinizing the latest film on a small screen. Looking over his shoulder, Nick watched the scene he had just filmed, smirking at the way his features crumpled into an expression of pure, melodramatic angst. It looked stupid on the colorless, soundless screen, but in slow-motion and set to music, he knew the video editors would make it look good.

“Hey, Nickay!” Suddenly aware of the duet of familiar voices calling his name, Nick turned to see AJ and Kevin strolling through the mayhem of the shoot, accompanied by one of the director’s assistants.

The director checked his watch. “It’s after noon; the lunch caterers should arrive any minute. Let’s break.”

Grateful, Nick walked over to meet his brothers. “What are you guys doing here?” he asked, unable to conceal the smile on his face.

“We thought we’d come check out the action,” said AJ with a shrug, looking around. “So what’s this video all about?”

Nick showed them around the set and told them about the treatment for the video over lunch. He wasn’t sure they really cared about the video itself, but they had come to the shoot to show their support, the way Howie had for “Help Me,” and he appreciated it.

There was a welcome air of acceptance surrounding his second solo project, and in some ways, that made it more fun than the first. Now or Never had been an exciting experience, his first time singing by himself since he was a child, but the whole time, he’d been made to feel as if he were doing something wrong. Now the guys were encouraging his solo efforts, rather than spiting him for it, and he couldn’t have been happier. This was something he had needed to do. He had grown and changed so much since his last solo album, and it was time to re-introduce the world to the new Nick Carter, unabashed and on his own.

***