Scented candles and bubble bath. Blues music (Hozier) and a cup of concentrated Earl Grey tea. I’m floating in the waves, preparing for my blind date. My cat drinks the bath water, plays with the bubbles and curls up on the outfit I need to wear. Cats are so chilled about dating. I’m shaving, waxing, trimming, perfuming & swearing. I slowly pull on my sexy stripy rainbow socks. I put on some coconut body cream – wait! What if he despises coconut? The smell of beach holidays – surely not. I carefully dress myself in smoky makeup, professional panties, false hope and my good luck charm bracelet.
I’m nervous as I drive into the city, street lights – my runway. Maybe he is a doctor or a successful business man or a sports fanatic (please be a books fanatic…). What if we have nothing to talk about? What DO people talk about these days? Is Trump, fidget spinners, weather still popular topics? How many women has he been with like this? Just be yourself, I shrug, falsely overconfident.
It’s dark & quiet in the private room. No blues music here. No foccacia starter either. I lie on the bed, comforted by my rainbow socks. I’m about to meet my blind date: Dr G, Dr U, Dr V1 or Dr V2. No foreplay, tinder flirting, chocolate desert, flowers or dancing. We both know why we’re really here: to get me pregnant.
“My left hand is my lucky hand” says Dr G proudly and smoothly. How romantic!
*Do you also prepare like mad for your 5 minute date with your fertility doctor? I’d love to hear about it!