Adventures in making and raising our test-tube babies

Friday, April 25, 2008

Ode to a Bath

I love baths. I composed this poem the last time I went through IVF, while the progesterone worked its magic, and I waited to see if the embryos were still in there when it came time to take the pregnancy test. My previous doctor ruled out baths during this period for sanitation reasons. My current doctor hasn't mentioned baths, but better safe than sorry. Now that I'm reliving the bath moratorium, I thought I'd pull out this gem for you.

It's called "Ode to a Bath."

Hot baths are listed as taboo
As things that we should never do.
While over embryos we fuss
To keep them in the uterus.

They’ve got two weeks to dig right in
And if they do, by God, we win.
But teeny cells are very weak
And thus our care providers speak:

Don’t do a thing to make them mad.
The best of blastocysts are glad.
They’ve got no tension or infection
Your voice should keep a calm inflection.

Your body should glide over the floors.
Exude your health from all your pores.
Keep far away from work and labor
Lest your womb-room fall from favor.

Think not a worried thought at all
Make sure those cells will have a ball.
You can’t do things to make you tired.
The embryos would yell at you, “You’re Fired!”

Like raking leaves or digging soil,
Or heavy lifting, strain, or toil.
Make sure you make a good role model
So your babies be born, then crawl, then toddle.

Don’t swallow knives or take bad pills
Or pick up any sorts of ills.
Don’t take a jog or go kick boxin’,
Imbibe caffeine or other toxin.

And most of all, don’t take a bath!
It’s full of germs; you do the math.
Your birth canal can flow both ways
And carry viruses from long days

Of petting cats and shaking hands
And traipsing round in foreign lands.
Keep those kids as safe and sound
While uterus blood goes swishing round.

That brownish goo, that tampon juice
Today keeps out the germs profuse.
But oh the shots have bruised my butt.
I feel as dirty as a mutt.

I long to soak myself and let
The kinks melt off and mind forget
My worries, fears, and baby thoughts,
The “Maybe Pregnant”s, “Maybe Not”s.

I dream and dream about the day
When Calgon can take me away.
Till then, a shower’s the best I’ll do:
A dash of soap, a splash shampoo.

And here I stand and there’s the rub
I’ll bathe not in my sudsy tub


DAVs said...

Yay for your poem! I'm sorry you miss your ideal treat used to be a long bubble bath (or sans bubbles if I wanted to turn on the jets--can't do both!), a good book, and a cold Diet Coke. But since giving up baths and diet Coke..well, 'tis not the same. Only a few more days of the dreadful 2ww!

bzzzzgrrrl said...

I may someday forgive you for exposing me to the line "That brownish goo, that tampon juice" while I am eating my lunch, but I will tell you, dearest friend, that day is not today.

Anonymous said...

I'm sorry, but I have to agree with bzzzzgrrrl on that one! But I guess you have to call it like you see it. The rest of your poem was lovely, and made me want to take a bath. I'll make it an extra long one in your honor.


Heidi said...


You are one amazingly talented lady! It's not everyone who can do acrobatics with their eyebrows and write fabulous bathtime poetry! If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, let me know, and I'll set them straight for you...

Love, Heidi

PS I figured out how to use the html tag for italics just for you! (You really are a person for whom I hold the greatest admiration... Love ya.)