Around the same time I started going to The Fancy Clinic, I went to an acupuncture place. Dan told me his friend swore it helped her get pregnant.

This place was a solid half hour drive, in no traffic, which meant I had to make morning appointments – don’t try to drive anywhere in LA after 1pm; it will take you twice as long.

Like The Fancy Clinic, this was another “best in LA” place. Celebrities were rumored to come here. I had made an appointment with an associate, because she was $100 a session cheaper, per visit.

The office was small and unassuming. I liked that they didn’t need to be flashy, just because they had high-profile clients.

I waited in a small, dark room tucked in between a dozen identicle ones. The walls were paper thin and barely decorated. I was crying in the dark, waiting for needles; scared, I was nervous and alone. I’d had three unsuccessful IUI’s (inseminations) at my OB’s (high school friend) office. I’d taken Clomid twice and not only had it not produced an extra egg, it had given me cysts, and I didn’t understand what that meant.

There was a strong and soft knock on the flimsy door and a very petite, pretty, young woman came in. “I’m Kimberly,” she said.

She had enormous warmth that lit up the dark cubicle.

I tried to smile and started crying.

She handed me a box of kleenex and was ready to listen. It was such a graceful way to handle my emotional state; I loved her.

I told her the story of how I was trying to have a baby as a single mom and hadn’t had any luck after three tries. I told her that while I was nervous, I wanted to have this baby more than anything and I was very emotional… just because.

Kimberly said, “A lot of women come here doing this on their own.” This was the same thing that Dr. X had said, and yet, Kimberly had hugged me with her words, not slapped me. I loved her instantly.

Kimberley said she would do a treatment today and then once a week. I needed to cut out alcohol, caffeine and sugar and eat a warm breakfast everyday.

Alcohol. OK.  As a way to make myself feel better, each time I hadn’t gotten pregnant, I would treat myself to a wine tasting class at one of the many amazing wine places in LA. It was fun. But no more.

Sugar. OK. I enjoy sugar and desserts, but they make me feel terrible. Speedy and then crashy. I’d be fine giving up sugar.

Coffee? No more coffee? I was in a panic. Coffee was one of my greatest pleasures in life. I liked it black and dark as mud. I needed it each morning and craved it at night, looking forward to its bitter, deep envelopment the next day.  I was addicted and I loved it… but in a second, I was giving it up. No question. No hesitation; if giving it up would help me get pregnant, it was gone.

I’d one acupuncture before, about twelve years earlier when I was anemic. It did help. I liked Kimberly so much, I wanted it to work this time too.

After my treatment, Kimberley told me I could pick up my herbs in the front when I paid.

I received my bag of twigs, spores, leaves and pine cones (herbs) with instructions on how to prepare them, which included not letting any metal touch the brew at any time – so I also purchased a bamboo strainer. I made a few more appointments for the rest on the month and put $150 on my credit card.

I couldn’t really afford and extra $150 a week, but this was one of those times in my life that credit cards were made for. This was not the time to be frugal when it came to trying to conceive. I could pay off my debt someday…. I needed to give myself all the advantages and all of the best opportunities.And besides, I like Kimberly. She’d be good for my emotional state.

Now, how the hell was I going to give up coffee?

photo credit: <a href=””>arnybo</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a> <a href=””>cc</a>

photo credit: <a href=””>Martin Gommel</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a> <a href=””>cc</a>

This entry was posted in SOLO STUFF, THE FANCY CLINIC, TRYING TO GET PREGNANT. Bookmark the permalink.

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