[Phone]

May. 3rd, 2036 06:20 pm
gaynecologist: (scout's honor)
[Yoda voice]
After the beep a message please leave me...

[Gollum voice]
Messageses, myyyy preciousssssss...

[Mail]

May. 3rd, 2036 06:17 pm
gaynecologist: (Default)
Leave mail for Dr Davey David here
gaynecologist: (Default)

The morning feels like days ago, the three of them in the pool after Sawyer's swimming lesson, splashing and playing and having fun. Showering afterwards, drying their little boy but pulling their own clothes onto still damp skin. Deciding where to go for lunch when the phone rang. Bryan feeding Sawyer in the back of the car while David pressed his foot to the accelerator.

It's all a blur, really. All three of their lives can now be measured by what happened before today and what happens after.

"--if she loses a bit of weight over the next few days."

David shakes his head, zoning back in. "Sorry?"

The nurse smiles. "You've done this before, David. You got this."

It's been the longest three hours of his life, waiting for her to take her first feed. With no skin-to-skin contact or breast to latch onto, the instinct to eat came slowly, not something he'd thought he'd have to worry about given who her bio-daddy is. But with two short feeds under her belt now, she's getting there. Still, he'd feel happier if she fed again before they left the safety of the hospital.

Giving the nurse a quick hug, David turns back to their private room, twisting the door knob quietly in case anyone inside is asleep.

for Bryan

Apr. 23rd, 2017 11:32 pm
gaynecologist: (pic#9520834)
 
David happily taps away at Bryan's laptop, crafting a resignation letter that he's all too eager to submit. That's probably why he's writing it months in advance but he's always been the type to over-prepare. Every so often his gaze skips to Bryan's cellphone on the counter. He knows there's a list of baby names on there and he's itching to take a look, just in case - by some major miracle - there's one on there that he actually likes. Every conversation so far has ended the same way - neither him nor Bryan budging, and eventually having to agree to disagree, no further forward than when they started.

It's an odd experience, David thinks, given that they're on the same page regarding so many other aspects of their life together. Apparently naming something breaks the near perfect dynamic they've cultivated over the years.

Picking up the phone, he starts to tap away before sighing a little, shoulders slumping, as he considers the possible outcomes. If he doesn't look, there's still a chance that there's a good name on there. The hope is intact. If he looks and there isn't, then all hope is gone.

Fingernails tapping against the back of the phone, David looks down at Smelly beside him. "What would you do?"

David had gotten to name him. And Smelly is a great name. Why can't Bryan just let him name their daughter too?

for Bryan

Feb. 12th, 2017 09:57 pm
gaynecologist: (you take away my hot wheels you pay the)
 
Harvey's worn himself out chasing an obnoxious squirrel in the back yard and barely twitches an ear when David gives him a scratch on the way past. He's panting on his side in the living room, blinking tiredly, wondering where it all went wrong. Smelly is already sprawled out on the couch, waiting for David, and settles into his usual space next to him as soon as he lays down. Bernie's tucked in one arm and squirms on his chest, gnawing on a carrot that he holds by her muzzle.

It's definitely a lazy Sunday evening.

Dogs tended to, David sighs and lets his eyes fall shut, listening to Bryan putting Sawyer to bed on the monitor.

It doesn't happen as often now but David still wonders what it would be like to go home, back to LA and everything they knew. Friends, family, their old jobs, the house they both loved so much. Would they miss Darrow? 

"No," Bryan smiles brightly, shaking his head. "What a silly question, babe."

"I just--I can't--I can't believe it." David launches himself at his husband, tears rolling down his cheeks, bursting with happiness. He wraps his arms around him and grins, stood in the middle of their cactus garden. He sees Smelly padding around indoors and Harvey investigating the prickly plants close by. "I can't believe we're home."

"Careful," Bryan scolds gently, looking down at bundle in the sling. "You'll wake the baby."

"Shh, shh, no I won't." David pulls back, rubbing Bryan's shoulder and peering at her.

"Look, Daddy!" He turns around, seeing Sawyer at the far end of the yard, holding a surgical scalpel. After a moment of wide-eyed fright, he rushes towards him but never seems to be able to reach him.

"Sweetie, put it down. It's dangerous. Sawyer, don't touch it!"

"David!" Bryan calls out, brows furrowed in a deep frown. "Don't leave us."

He looks back.

"We have a new baby," Bryan scowls, pushing the material of the sling back to reveal a wet black and speckled white nose belonging to Bernie.

"Wait... Wait. Where is she?" Dread fills David's chest and he runs into the house, looking for their daughter. He calls out her name, over and over, searching the kitchen, living room, the closet in their bedroom. "Honey, where are you? Bryan, where is she? We left her, we forgot her. Oh my God, she couldn't come with us." Out the window, he sees Sawyer merrily chopping off his fingers, the cactus garden growing into weeds and encircling Bryan's legs. Harvey yelps as the spikes prick his fur. "We have to go back!" He yells, banging on the glass, trying to get Bryan's attention.

"We have to go back! Where is she? Where is she?! Where is she?!"
gaynecologist: (Default)

My Reasons Why )

For Bryan

Jan. 30th, 2017 03:16 am
gaynecologist: (Default)
David wipes his face dry on a towel, staring at himself in the mirror. The day was one to remember for good reasons and bad, and David has spent most of it since the scan focused on the latter, a fact that still makes his chest ache.

Leaving their bathroom in pristine condition - far less disorganised than usual - he pads over to the bed, undoing his watch strap and picking up his glass of water from the nightstand, the antibiotics he'd swallowed a few minutes before feeling stuck in his throat.

As he drinks, he lets his mind wander back. He'd been overwhelmed after the appointment, much more than even he had realized, and he'd let Bryan's brutal honesty get to him. It was unfortunate timing, Bryan highlighting failures at the exact moment David was already feeling insecure, and it had got the better of him. Heightened emotions, elevated anxiety, both of which are fairly foreign to him and both of which he'd tried to hide from Bryan. Maybe if he hadn't, his husband would have had the chance to be more sensitive.

David hadn't understood Bryan's fears about having a boy at first. In fact, he'd been almost dismissive two years ago. He'd gotten there in the end but by then, Bryan had done most of the work himself; David had just helped him over the finish line to see that he could relate to boys. David's fears aren't exactly the same but he thinks he's feeling something similar and is able to empathise with that Bryan now.

Climbing into bed, David fluffs a couple of pillows and leans back, lifting his glasses onto his head and picking up a copy of the baby scan. She's beautiful. And she's made from Bryan, which means David already loves her more than words can say. Were she here with them, she wouldn't want her daddies apart, not speaking, and David doesn't want that either.

for Bryan

Jan. 26th, 2017 01:23 am
gaynecologist: (Default)
 
"Soooo..."

David finishes waving before swiveling around to face Bryan, finally alone with him. As alone as they can be in the middle of the clinic's corridor, anyway. His eyes are puffy and his nose is sniffy, both of which were true before they got the news but are even more evident now.

He's shell-shocked. It's different to the last time. Whether or not he'd admitted it, to himself or anyone else, he'd had all of his hopes pinned on having a boy and his wish had come true. This time he was more reserved; he hadn't wanted to think past this moment in case Bryan was wrong. Bryan had been convinced enough for the both of them though.

One of each is the dream, isn't it?

It definitely hasn't sunk in yet. Maybe repeating it for the fifth time will help.

"...we're having a girl."

for Bryan

Sep. 5th, 2016 03:48 am
gaynecologist: (pic#9520835)
David is nervous, of course. But he's also a hundred and one other things that outweigh his fear and the instinct to gather Bryan and Sawyer in each arm and run away someplace safe with them. Pride, that's a big one - he can feel it filling his chest to the point where he has to sigh just to believe it's really happening.

Sawyer's first day at school. Granted, they'll be back in a few hours to pick him up and he's not going to have a stack of homework to get through tonight, much to David's dismay, but it's still a huge step. Another first ticked off a list they seem to be getting through far too quickly.

"Remember what they told us to prevent tears, Bry," he says as he reverses the car into a parking spot. "We have to remain calm and act like everything is normal, so that we don't add to his stress. A quick kiss goodbye, then we hand him straight over and leave. Simple."
gaynecologist: (you take away my hot wheels you pay the)
 
Usually David likes nothing more than to walk into a room with Bryan on his arm and see heads turn. He's not generally a fan of the spotlight, unless he's on a winning streak at a spelling bee, but he particularly relishes those moments when he gets to look and feel like he won the lottery.

Tonight however, he walks into the doctors' ball with tension in his shoulders and a smile that is only 50% genuine. Whether they're arguing about serious matters like leaving Sawyer at home for their spa break or ridiculous trivialities like Bryan adopting a mini pig, the evening has not been entirely pleasant so far. Despite what Bryan says, David knows the pig thing speaks to deeper issues and while he really wants to explore them with his husband, right now he has to work.

Because while the party might look like a night of black-tie luxury on the surface, it's actually a minefield of epic proportions. There's major networking going on, poaching of doctors from one practice to another, and the inescapable chitter-chatter of pharmaceutical reps, all trying to woo the slowly inebriating medical professionals with promises of charted yacht trips and rides in lamborghinis.

David has been sent by Finkelstein to spread the word that Darrow Women's Health Center is expanding but he "should only approach doctors who are worthy" of a position there. Finkelstein's own words. By that, David assumes he means doctors who are willing to put as much effort into selling expensive procedures as actually doing them. Since David isn't that type of person himself and Finkelstein assigned the task to him personally, David sees tonight as a giant flashing neon sign, warning him about his own future at the practice.

It's not helping his tension any.

"I need a drink." Maybe afterwards he'll shove his head into the massive chocolate fountain and pray that he passes out before he has to hand his business card to anyone.
gaynecologist: (nicki who?)
 
"And when they leave the forest, that's when they meet Strider, who is..." David waits patiently with an expectant look on his face.

Sawyer, snuggled beside a reclining David on the couch, doesn't even pause for breath as he devours his bedtime milk.

"...actually the heir of Isildur named Aragorn, that's correct. Well done. We like Aragorn," he clears his throat, "for more reasons than one. I mean, he's got the Gandalf stamp of approval..."

Slowly keeling over - with what David is choosing to believe is exhaustion, not boredom - Sawyer rests his head on his father's stomach and lets out a sigh. Extracting the bottle carefully, David stretches to rest it on the coffee table, leaning back and curling a bicep beneath his own head, inadvertently letting his eyes slip shut too. Between work and Bryan's overactive libido, the last couple of days have been tiring. Interesting but tiring.

He's only asleep for a minute, he swears, but when he wakes up, it's to a baby gnawing on drool-soaked creases of his t-shirt. 

"Oh no." A quick check of Sawyer's rapidly reddening gums and cheeks confirms it.

"Bry!" There are equal measures of sympathy and dread in his voice as he calls out. "He's teething again!"
gaynecologist: (pic#9100301)
 
David wakes up early on the eighth morning, takes a deep breath and slips out of bed. It's true what they say: losing a partner is like losing a limb. But he is never going to learn how to live without his husband Bryan if he doesn't put more effort into living with his boyfriend Bryan. He had come to that conclusion two hours ago and had been watching the numbers tick by on the clock until it reached an acceptable time to get up.

He lets the dogs out, passes a blissfully quiet Sawyer and heads downstairs to make breakfast. For Bryan. Not for his boyfriend Bryan. Not for his husband Bryan. Just for Bryan.

Differentiating between the two has to stop if they have any hope of staying together and making this work. That also means that the mourning has to stop. Comparing the two men will only ever end one way and that's not fair on David or the man asleep upstairs.

Or Sawyer.

"God." David breaths, pausing for a moment over a carton of eggs and pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. At least he's only one. At least he won't remember this. Somehow that thought just upsets David even more, the fact that he won't remember his actual dad, the guy that has dedicated every day to him since he was born.

No more. Today is a new day and it's David's job to make Bryan feel wanted and loved and at home, which is why he climbs the stairs twenty minutes later with a coffee in one hand and two poached eggs on toast in the other.
gaynecologist: (Default)
David sighs through his nose as he waits for his glass to fill with water.

What a day. To be fair, he'd been fully prepared for stress and exhaustion caused by Bryan today and that is exactly what he got. Though he'd been expecting twelve hours of unpacking boxes and moving items dozens of times while Bryan stood there with his clipboard, measuring tape and a look of judgement. Not...whatever it is that today had turned into.

Mac 'n cheese dishes sit in the kitchen sink and David briefly considers rinsing them before thinking better of it. They're not going anywhere and will still be there in the morning, he thinks, then rolls his eyes at the thought. If those turn into tiny side dishes while he's sleeping, he won't complain.

Taking a sip of water, he pads out of the kitchen, grateful that Sawyer has settled and he can finally think about bed himself.
gaynecologist: (pic#9100243)
Moving house was kind of like making Sawyer. Months of planning and waiting and nerves and effort and then in the space of a tiring couple of days, the whole world has turned upside down. That's not even figuratively speaking if the state of the new house is anything to go by. There are boxes in nearly every room and David has the sore shoulders and biceps to prove it.

The only rooms that haven't given him nightmares are Sawyer's bedroom and his and Bryan's. While only the bare necessities are in place, it was like an unspoken agreement that these two rooms wouldn't look like a giant headache when they woke up. It's the start of a new chapter and neither of them wanted to begin it with a groan or an Advil.

Sunlight reddens the insides of David's eyelids but he's not quite ready to appreciate it yet, rolling over and letting sleep drag him back down for a little while longer. For once, he finds it easy to let go, a quiet sigh escaping. This morning he might even rival Bryan in his ability to sleep in, as long as Sawyer decides to do the same.
gaynecologist: (pic#9100244)
David gnaws nervously on his lower lip, glancing over at Bryan every now and then to judge his reactions. It's only the third place they've seen so far and the most expensive by quite a long way, enough to bring on the beginnings of a migraine for David.

But money isn't what he wants to be thinking about when he makes his way up the stairs - stairs! - to check out the bedrooms. He wants to find a house, no, a home, somewhere he can imagine them living happily, raising Sawyer and his siblings. An environment that suits Smelly and Harvey too, which means a back yard is a must, something this place has in abundance.

He can't stop his mind doing the math though, even as he stands in the middle of a stranger's bedroom and tries to picture him and Bryan in there. When Sawyer's older, this is the only place they'll get to be alone together, the only place they'll be David and Bryan. It has to be comfortable, offer sanctuary, welcome and nurture intimacy, provide-- He rolls his eyes to himself, still just seeing a strange bed in an utterly uninspired room.

He almost misses it on his way out, the door to an en suite he'd forgotten even existed.

"Bry, there's an en suite," he calls out, nudging the door open with a knuckle to reveal a bathroom that's twice as swanky as the bedroom and about half the size.

With a freestanding bath tub.

"...Bryan!"
gaynecologist: ([Harvey Milkbone] looks like me when i w)
David isn't sure who dragged who off the street and into the pet store but he does know that if Sawyer has any allergies to cat hair, now is when they will find out.

That's partly why he makes a beeline straight for the array of puppies for sale. Almost as soon as he lays eyes on them, his face crumples into an expression of longing, his concerns about his son pushed aside for now.

"Bry, it breaks my heart to think that all these dogs were alone on Christmas Day," he mourns, hand balled at his chest. A salesman - the owner, he reliably informs them - interrupts with a story about how a selection of them were actually taken to the children's ward at Darrow General on 25 December to give the sick kids something to smile about.

"They got plenty of attention there," the man assures him. "Especially this tiny rascal," he adds, booping one of the pups on the nose through the perspex glass. They all look healthy enough but some of them really know how to put on the sad eyes. Not this happy little chappy though. "Let me know if you'd like to meet any of them."

Left alone, David takes another look at the rows of boxes in front of him. It feels very unnatural.

"It's like choosing a lobster for dinner."
gaynecologist: ([Bryan] i now pronounce you a family)
 
It is a luxury and a burden to have options. David hadn't been surprised when he'd received offers after both interviews; what had surprised him was how torn he'd been between the two. Did he want to be a big fish in a small pond or a small fish in a big pond? Both had their benefits and their drawbacks; different remuneration packages, different ethoses, different facilities. Friday night had been spent discussing the future with Bryan, his husband endlessly supportive of whatever path David ended up taking. He appreciated it, of course, but there had been one or two times over the weekend where he'd just wished Bryan had made the decision for him.

David isn't blind to his anxiety. He knows that every genuine word of encouragement from Bryan has had to fight its way through a torrent of worry and concern first. He wants to make the transition from home to work as easy as possible and he's very clear in his intentions. He will be working to live, not living to work. They want a house, a home, they want Sawyer to have everything he needs, they want more children. Displacement to Darrow hasn't changed that. It has just meant income is even more important.

The Finkelstein Medical Group, based in Darrow Women's Health Center, ticks a lot of boxes. Well-established, excellent reputation, professional, highly staffed, great retention rate, state-of-the-art technology. David would be lying if he said the $369,000 starting salary wasn't a huge incentive as well. It was almost comparable to his earnings back home and given that their outgoings in Darrow are significantly less, it's way more than they need.

Way more than they need. ...What did they need? What did Bryan and Sawyer need?

David leaves the meeting two hours later, stepping back out into the autumn air, feeling able to take a long, deep breath for the first time in what feels like forever. He's employed. He can provide. When he gets home with two pumpkin-spiced lattes and a newspaper tucked under one arm, he walks inside with a smile on his face, knowing he is what they need.
gaynecologist: (Default)
 "And he said there might be an opening for someone like me," David explains, stretching behind the couch to reach his crutches. He brings them around to the front, bracing one hand on the armrest of the sofa to push himself up and onto his good foot. His latest physical therapy session had been kind of a dud but bumping into an OBGYN as he passed the cafeteria has proved quite fortunate. An act of serendipity. "I know it's too soon to go back to work, let alone to start building a medical career and reputation here, but it's not too early to start thinking about it, right?"

And talking about it. It's all David feels he has to offer at the moment. Promises of what he'll do, how he'll provide in the future. It helps keep his mind off the crash, his own stupidity, the nightmarish daydreams of what could have happened to him and to them if he hadn't been so lucky.

His hair is still damp from a shower, the time spent afterwards in front of a mirror inspecting the bruising across his ribs. It's starting to fade and when he had noticed, a little bit of the dark cloud above him had drifted off, fading too.

"Normality," he mutters to himself, setting about on Sawyer's milk, precariously balancing everything in one arm as he hobbles around the kitchen. "That's what we need."

for Bryan

Aug. 3rd, 2015 02:05 am
gaynecologist: (pic#9100301)
 
David can recall distinctly the one or two seconds it took for him to come off his bike but the last ten or fifteen minutes in the hospital are kind of a blur. The police had asked him to explain what had happened and only after that did they tell him that the driver had admitted full responsibility as soon as they had arrived. Advised by the police officer not to have any contact with the woman, they left David in his bed and to his thoughts.

A doctor shines a light in each eye for the second time since he arrived and he doesn't bother to insist again that he doesn't have a concussion. Even without having had his x-ray yet he knows he's already right about not having broken any ribs, so he doesn't want to rub it in by proving the doctor wrong on two counts.

David has always been a responsible person, in both his personal and professional life. But only now, with his vision awash with a bright white light, does he realize that he has no Will in Darrow, no plans for Bryan and Sawyer should today have turned out differently. The thought hits him as hard as the car had and he blinks slowly, eyes beginning to water, until the doctor tells him to open them again.

for Bryan

Jun. 1st, 2015 02:49 am
gaynecologist: (sitting in a tree)

"Honey?" David calls for the third time, leaning back from where his head has been buried in the refrigerator to peer around its door.

He's nervous about leaving but he doesn't show it. In fact, David exudes the opposite, looking almost excited about the prospect of cycling for a living. He's kitted out from head to toe, black and fluorescent yellows and oranges covering most of his body, and there's a shiny new helmet waiting for him on the kitchen counter.

The past few weeks, despite being a whirlwind of fear and confusion, have been cherished. He had always planned to take some time off work to stay home with Bryan, to be there the first time Sawyer looks like he smiles from gas, the first time he gurgles at his epic Gollum impressions, the first time he finds his husband asleep on the couch with his son. Despite those things happening in unfamiliar surroundings, he has still gotten to witness them first-hand and for that, David is grateful. Were they in LA, they could have afforded to take months and months off work, maybe even a year, but that's no longer a reality. And if the gentleman he met on the street last week - the one bearing more than a passing resemblance to Bryan - is right, then it's not going to become a reality any time soon.

"Bry, I gotta go." Taking a bottle of water, he unscrews the cap and nudges the fridge closed with a Lycra-clad hip.
Page generated Sep. 20th, 2017 09:02 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios