Excerpt: Defining Molly

sur•re•al adj.

1. Weirdly unfamiliar, bizarre, or disturbing

The shadowy figures encircle me, indistinct in the glare of the bright lights shining in my eyes. I am conspicuously undressed, prone on a raised table and the shadows flit back and forth in the confined space near my upraised feet. Cold steel implements probe me – pinching, stretching, examining, exploring. Needles stab my delicate skin as the shadows continue harrying me.

My eyes squeeze tightly shut against the blinding glare and against the onslaught of unshed tears at the invasion. A few minutes more and the torturous steel is removed, the light dimmed, the shadows retreated, and I am alone. I quickly dress and make my escape on wobbly legs.

“Mrs. Walker?”

The voice stops me in my tracks and I turn to confront one of my tormentors.

“You’ll need to call in this afternoon after two for the blood results and your dosages. Things look promising. We’ll probably see you again tomorrow.”

The plump nurse smiles widely and gives me a thumbs-up. I bare my clenched teeth at her, flashing just enough dimple that she thinks I’m returning her smile, and then stalk out the door. Coming back for more tomorrow? Ah, the rapture. Oh, joy. As if. My name is Molly Walker, and I am infertile. Lucky me.

This whole mess started three years ago when I married Andy. Andrew Walker - The Perfect Man, if such a thing exists. He is good-looking, but not so exceptionally hot that I need to warn off other women or feel insecure about him being out of my league. He is sweet and thoughtful, intelligent and funny. That’s most important - He can hold his own with me intellectually, yet he never loses his own particularly warped sense of humor. It doesn’t matter if it’s a dry, biting comment referencing Schrödinger’s cat, or a common South Park-ian fart joke… from sophisticated to silly, the man can always make me laugh. I utterly love him.

So, of course I said, “YES!” when he proposed and soon thereafter I was Mrs. Andrew Walker. Well, in short order, we bowed to convention and familial expectation and decided to try to have a baby. Okay. Honesty time. So, we didn’t exactly TRY immediately. More like we stopped trying NOT to have one. But that’s neither here nor there, really. The point is we voluntarily stepped onto the track in the Great Baby Race. And that’s when things got interesting.

You see, I always thought my life was pretty straightforward but I’ve learned since then that I could not be more wrong. Until now, I always believed that I had a normal, boring life in a normal, boring small town as part of a normal, boring family, albeit one with a slightly skewed outlook on life. If only it were that simple! But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let’s go back a bit and start over at the beginning. Back before things were so… so… surreal.