Two crummy scenes in a row. First, Ethan wakes up in a recovery room at the hospital next to a proselytizing Catholic who happens to have a bunch of merch on him, and they have a long talk about what is a man, and so forth. Comparisons between St. Jude and St. Anthony, lost causes and lost things.
Ethan: "Thanks, but I haven't lost anything. I don't think."
Rando: "You're not Catholic?"
Ethan: "I'm nothing. Or I'm Jewish, but I'm... What I am is a doctor."
Rando: "My son worshiped Pythagoras, numbers, from childhood. Now he's at MIT."
Ethan: "Good job, then."
Rando: "When you were a boy, what did you want?"
Ethan: "I liked baseball. A professor told me to do pre-med because I was good in math and sciences, so I did that. My parents wanted that anyway..."
Rando: "They really put you into place, don't they? The people that love you."
Ethan: "I only really ever wanted one thing, and she nearly killed me. So now I just do what I'm told. The experiment failed."
Rando: "St. Jude for your marriage. St. Anthony for your spirit. Don't get old like me."
Bill: "I'm supposed to talk to you, about something I don't know what, but Mother's up my ass about it."
Libby: "Hang on, the guy's about the kill the other guy on television. Okay. I have a thing to tell you but I can't tell you. It's involuntary, I can't..."
Bill: "You're pregnant and superstitious about it?"
Libby: "There it is. Well done, Dr. Masters."
Bill: "But that's impossible."
Libby: "Right, because I have a uterus incompatible with conception. Right? So it would be impossible, basically, for this to happen. And yet."
Bill: "What are you implying?"
Libby: "I had a card in my back pocket I didn't need until now, but now I need it. Doing experiments with your frozen semen is kind of a betrayal. That's true. But I didn't cut into your body, or make you sit in a cold chair for eight or twelve hours at a stretch, or fuck you from behind, staring at the wall, night after night, for no reason other than my own sick pride. So it's a matter of degree."
Bill: "Am I in trouble, then?"
Libby: "No, quite the opposite. You're going to be a father. And we're going to drop this whole thing. We're going to forgive and love each other and make a family, and get a happy ending. You aren't going to grumble at me, and you aren't going to hate this baby, and if you find yourself sleepwalking you're going to visit the doctor. You're going to make peace with your mother, and yourself. Got me?"