Thursday, November 17, 2011

An Alternate Origin Story

In the beginning, there was everything already: planets, sky, bushes, people, buildings, books, drinks, musical instruments, tape recorders, ice cream cones, grass skirts, Rhode Island, telescopes, digital watches, sexy stable boys, the disowned Velvet Underground album Squeeze, cardboard cutouts of Jesus, VCR 4-heads, arugula, Thanksgiving break, plastic keychain toys for babies, the King's Quest computer game series, square colored memo cards, racism, George Burns, masturbation, internet trolls, "Hills Like White Elephants" student interpretations, fingernail clippers, photographs of dead people being sold for five cents apiece, Smurfette, stains on a Frenchman's bathroom sink, the TARDIS, children who could sing the jingle for Krazy Glue, beard dandruff, open mic karaoke, boat anchor chains, Tylenol PM, the smell of an aluminum bucket full of crayons and erasers, elephant tusk controversies, dried lily pads in a scrap book with butterflies on the cover, the Articles of the Confederation, slam dunk contests, paper airplanes made with Hello Kitty stationary, WordPerfect 5.1, tetanus, Leanna Foxxx's fake breasts, the Gladney Center for Adoption, furries, conspiracy theories, Zildjian ride cymbals, 1840s camera tripods, New Coke prototypes, alt.tv.twin-peaks, all of the lead singers for Tower of Power, Babylonian theology, Regular Scent Dry Idea underarm deodorant, teeth fillings in transit to Atlanta, the Age of Reason, adobe huts, the Acronis Secure Zone, canker sores, Lotus 123 spreadsheets, sod, Avenue Q, plankton, quilts made of T-shirts worn in elementary school, Germany, the Horsehead Nebula, Song-Poem collectors, grocery store receipts, spend the night parties, white Chiclets, dinosaur sex, Humbert Humbert, donkey rides up the Grand Canyon, The Pirate Movie, hip-hop translations of the Bible, mitral valve replacement surgery, Hüseyin Kıvrıkoğlu's great-grandmother, No Fear Shakespeare, Phillip Joll, false etymologies for the Tagalog language, the clitoris, Dave's Records of Guelph, failed recycling programs, stardust, the dropping of the letter O in the word opossum, the R65 in South Africa, gaydar, soccer trophies, foreign exchange students who pretend to not know the language, three day weekends, the Naval Battle of Awa in 1868, Scott Walker's later albums, historic gazebo tour pamphlets, the buffy-tufted marmoset, potatoes, the 2002 US Open, the WEDWay People Mover, the asteroid belt 15034 Décines, the Faisalabad Railway Station, Egyptian feminism, childhood interest in tumbling, the peak of the Hochfrottspitze, abandoned planetariums, Scarlett Johannsson nude photograph leaks, moonshine, treacle, and Dan Quayle. For starters.

Eventually everything got to be too much, so it began swirling into itself, until everything was compressed into a tight ball. This was not done by anything or anyone outside of itself, and it was not done for reasons of morality. It just happened, as one might expect. And there the tight ball sat.

And then, as one might also expect of something that contained all of these things, it finally exploded. But everything did not re-exist at once. The universe unfolded slowly, starting with hydrogen or whatever. Everything expanded, and eventually the earth was formed and all of that business happened.

And now here you are, motherfucker.

Monday, November 14, 2011

God and Babies

After three miscarriages, my wife was diagnosed with a "uterine septum," a little malformed wall hanging down from the top of the inside of her uterus, making it look like a little heart. This septum was not allowing room for attachment to the uterine wall, and this (we're more or less certain) caused all three miscarriages. Fortunately, after my wife was diagnosed, we learned that there was treatment for the problem: a relatively un-invasive surgery where the doctor goes in, finds the septum, and -- in the doctor's words -- "trims it out." So trim it out he did, and the next pregnancy was a successful one, producing what they call, in the business, a "take home baby," a girl. So I'm a dad now.

Even though infertility wasn't our issue, we were recommended to infertility specialists (since they also handle related problems). The motto on their pamphlets and website is "For couples with infertility, miracles happen every day." They also have a place on their website for submitting "miracle memories." Now, if by miracle they simply mean "something good and unexpected," then fine, because this was both. If they are referring to the work they themselves do as miraculous (meaning wondrous, amazing), then fine, because it is. But if they mean that some sort of divine intervention or circumventing of nature was involved, then I have to take issue with whoever decided to use that word.

My baby is not a miracle. If it weren't for medical science, she almost definitely would not be here. She's my medical science baby.