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