I held the syringe up to the light above the bathroom mirror and flicked it a few times with my finger to make sure I had the exact dose of Lupron. I checked my watch to calculate the time in Washington. I pulled the waistline of my pants below my belly button, steadied my feet, wiped my abdomen with an alcohol swab and took a deep breath.
As I pulled my arm back to thrust the syringe into my belly, the plane hit turbulence, nearly causing me to plunge the needle into my left arm. I waited for the plane to stabilize and repeated the steps, this time managing to inject myself with the drugs that I hoped would lead to my becoming pregnant. I packed my supplies and walked casually back into the main cabin of the 10-seat Gulfstream that was taking me and my boss, the under secretary of defense for policy, to Afghanistan.
Read the full article in The New York Times.