A Sweet Memory

Yesterday my friend Dr J called to wish me and my family a Happy New Year, as today is Rosh Hashana (Jewish New Year). I like this holiday, especially since it's one of the few happy holidays in the Jewish calendar. Plus the traditional food of Rosh Hashana is stuff I like - apples, honey, sweet challah - basically all things round and sweet. So Dr J called, and after he wished us a Happy New Year he also said, "...and a couple of days early, Happy Implantation Day!" He had remembered what I had forgotten - that 7 years ago, in the middle of services at Temple, I had to run off to a doctor's appointment. An appointment were they were implanting the three embryos which are now better known as The Trio.

At the time I thought it was very appropriate time of year. These potential lives were being given to me in the period of time in the Jewish Calendar where it is decided who shall live and who shall die, who shall be forgiven for their transgressions, and who maybe needs to work a bit harder next year. We talk about being "transcribed in the Book of Life" for the coming year, and that's exactly what I asked for as I walked out of that Temple that day. I nervously, quickly, quietly walked out of there, ...and right before I walked out I turned around, faced the bimah, and said very quick, silent prayer. "Please," I said, "Please, please, please inscribe at least one of these babies in the Book of Life."

I'm not a terribly religious person. I would describe myself as more of a cultural Jew than a religious one, so it was a strange thing for me to do. Still, I figured I needed all the help I could get - if medical science couldn't solve this whole infertility thing, maybe a helping hand from the Man Upstairs would. Hey, at that point, I'dve stood on top of a mountain and howled while turning slowly counter-clockwise, all while wearing pink stripey shorts, if I thought it would help. Frankly, IVF sucks.

Anyway I walked out of that Temple, drove to the doctor's office, and two weeks later had the life-changing experience of the nurse on the phone telling me that my HCG levels (the hormone which indicates pregnancy) were totally through the roof. A mere 2 weeks after that, I got the thrill of seeing three tiny flickering heartbeats on a monitor.

So we could say that it worked - that my silent prayer got answered. They *were* inscribed in the Book Of Life. Or maybe it was just coincidence. Either way, I couldn't be more grateful on this Rosh Hashana eve.

May your days be filled with sweet reasons to celebrate. Mine are filled with at least 3.