Page 51 of Lily, Unwritten
I stuck my bottom lip out in a sulk, annoyed at Cassie and her interference. “Sorry,” I mouthed towards him, trying to portray my disappointment as he meandered out of the garden, his arse still looking incredible in the skinny jeans.
I glared at Cassie before I stalked back inside the granny flat. “Thank you SO much!” I yelled before I slammed the door as hard as I could and made sure to lock it from the inside. If only I’d thought to lock it earlier.
One more sleepless night began, my head full of heartbreak, shattered dreams, and the same names spinning around and around inside my thoughts. And to make it worse, the room now smelt like sexy rock band guy…
Seventeen
Cassie and I made up the next morning, as we always did. I begrudgingly agreed that sleeping with Elijah wouldn’t have helped the situation, although it would have been a welcome distraction – of that, I was sure. She didn’t mention Luke again, to my relief; my head couldn’t take any more pressure.
The following Monday, I was tucked up in Cassie’s kitchen with a cup of tea when my phone rang. I pounced on it. Part of me still hoped it would be Zack but I knew that day by day, that outcome grew less and less likely.
“Hello,” I answered in a mopey voice, seeing the unknown number and expecting a scam or a sales pitch. Yet still glad to have someone to speak to in a pathetic way; nobody called me anymore.
“Is this Lily Forshaw?” A plummy voice spoke to me.
“It is,” I confirmed.
“This is Dr Wilkinson from the Fertility Clinic Associates. Is this a good time to discuss your application to be an egg donor?”
“It’s a perfect time to discuss it.” I motioned to Cassie, and she came to sit next to me with a nervous smile.
“I understand your application was to provide eggs for a close friend, you wouldn’t be leaving eggs with us for other clients?”
“That’s correct,” I confirmed, hoping this wasn’t going to go against us.
“I’m happy to say that all of your physical checks were clear and your counsellor was happy that you have the capacity to understand and proceed with the process.”
“That’s amazing!” I couldn’t help but grin down the phone, not that Dr Wilkinson had a clue what my face was doing.
“Was the process explained to you?” she asked. “The first step is to begin you on daily injections to suppress your natural hormone production. You’ll need to come in for instruction on this, and at the same time, we’ll arrange to see the recipient to synchronise the processes to optimum timing for you both.”
She continued to talk, but it went over my head. Cassie and I grinned widely at each other like little kids. Thankfully, she ended the call saying all the information, dates, and times would be sent to me by mail, to Cassie’s address.
Finally, I felt useful.
Cassie and I were like giddy schoolgirls as we sat in the clinic room a couple of weeks later and waited for the nurse to come and see us.
“What is this?” Cassie asked with a grimace as she picked up an expensive looking, framed piece of art that sat on the table next to us. I squinted at the images as she held it at different angles, but neither of us was sure.
“I think it’s meant to be symbolic. Or are they eyeballs?” I shrugged as I spoke then jumped as the door opened and a nurse walked in.
Her face broke into a smile as Cassie hastily put the picture back on the table. “It’s called Embryonic Development, and a previous client painted it.” She held out her hand. “I’m Natalie, lovely to meet you both.” Her manner put me at ease; she seemed approachable, her smile genuine. Average height, average weight, brown hair in a ponytail, she looked like a potential next-door neighbour, not a mean matron or a judgemental model type.
We shook hands. I couldn’t look at Cassie as I knew she’d give me the giggles again, and we needed to take this seriously. Part of me was still scared the clinic would change their mind and decide I wasn’t suitable after all.
“I have your injections ready here for you to take home. All the instructions are in there, but it’s one injection each a day, for twelve days. We’ll do the first one together now.” Natalie spoke with a kind voice, well versed in the nerves and hormones which must be abundant in this room.
My throat was parched. I’d never been bothered about needles before, but the thought of injecting myself wasn’t pleasant. Fortunately, all images of giant, spiky needles more familiar to a horror film in an old, abandoned hospital- were quashed when Natalie showed us the slim plastic cartridge which looked more like a pen. She handed us one each from our own boxes to familiarise ourselves with the feel.
“You can inject into your stomach, or the top of your thigh. Do you mind if I touch your stomach, Lily?” Natalie asked.
“Go ahead,” I lifted my t-shirt up, paranoid that my skin was clammy with nerves and anxiety.
“You need to try and pinch a little bit of skin, easier for some of us than others,” she laughed and pointed at her own stomach, which was by no means big, but she seemingly thought otherwise. She then pinched at the skin of my stomach and held the needle to it. “Both grab a pinch of skin like that and press the needle against it.”
We did as instructed. “Great, now simply click the end of the cartridge, and the needle will inject you.”
Cassie clicked it within a split second, her eyes screwed closed, then she looked at me with a giddy smile. “Easy peasy.”