“He’s not punishing us.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “This is our trial. We’ll meet with that fertility specialist Dr. Blakely recommended and do in vitro.”
“You can barely stand the thought of a baby. How on earth will you handle fertility treatments?”
Gary drew away, and she heard the hurt in his voice. “We’re in this together. If you hurt, I hurt. Don’t think I’m unaffected by this. I do want kids. I never realized how much until—” He broke off abruptly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Was he crying? She stared at the lone tear trickling down Gary’s cheek. Had she ever seen him cry?
“I never realized how much I want children until I was told it might not be possible. I regret every negative thought I’ve ever had about having a baby. I would take them all back if I could. I feel like this is my fault. I made this happen by not wanting one.” His shoulders shook. Christina reached out and massaged his back, alarmed. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”
“It’s no one’s fault.” Her own shoulders shook, and Christina struggled to control the sobs. Each movement sent pain shooting through her midsection. “Where do we go from here?”
They sat there and cried until sunlight peeked through the blinds and spilled across the room in horizontal stripes. Eventually she fell asleep, but it wasn’t restful.
A while later she felt Gary’s hand on her arm. “Christina, Megan’s here to see you. She brought dinner.”
Christina opened her eyes. “Dinner?”
“Yeah.”
Christina blinked, struggling to sit up. Gary quickly moved to help, situating pillows behind her back so she’d be comfortable. “That’s nice of her,” Christina said.
“She wants to talk to you for a minute. Is that okay?”
Christina didn’t feel like visiting, but she nodded. “How do I look?”
Gary smoothed a few curls behind her ear, then leaned down and kissed her. “Beautiful.”
When Megan appeared, her smile was full of complete understanding. “I told Gary we’d talked before your surgery,” she said. She sat down in a chair Gary had brought from the kitchen. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.” Had Gary been upset Christina had shared such intimate secrets?
“He told me what the doctor found.” Megan said the words carefully, her eyes probing Christina’s for some signal as to where to go from there.
“Gary told you?” Christina couldn’t imagine him sharing personal details about their lives.
“He’s really worried about you.” Megan set her purse on the floor and leaned on the edge of the bed, her face in her hand, elbow propped on the mattress. “Apparently Trent mentioned we were struggling with infertility when you guys helped us move in, and Gary thought maybe I could help.”
Christina looked away, not wanting to cry in front of Megan. Christina didn’t want to cry at all. She was sick of tears. Sick of feeling miserable. Would it never end?
“It’s important to talk about it. If you keep it all inside, it will eat you up. Your entire life will be consumed by infertility until there is nothing left.” Megan paused, and the next words were so quiet Christina almost didn’t hear them. “I know. I’ve been there.”
Christina laughed, then winced at the pain. “You never keep things bottled up.”
Megan’s eyes widened, and she burst into giggles. “I didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth.”
Christina blushed. “Sorry. Can we blame it on the pain meds and forget I ever said that?”
Megan shook her head, her blonde curls flipping back and forth. “No way, it’s too funny.” Her smile dropped, and she sobered. “But you were right to call me on it. There was a time when we kept quiet about our infertility. I let it overtake my life. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop eating and gained tons of weight. I didn’t want to play the piano or read a book. Infertility was all I could think about. Having a baby consumed my entire life until there was nothing left.”
Christina stared in amazement. She couldn’t imagine this strong, vivacious woman ever being that broken.
“It got so bad I had to go on anti-depressants. Trent and I went to counseling, and that’s where we learned the importance of openness. We may have taken it to an extreme, but it’s saved us.”
“How?” Surely letting people know their uncomfortable secret wouldn’t help anything.
“Because it forces you to admit to it.” Megan grabbed Christina’s hand. “You need to accept it. Infertility is a part of you now. It always will be. Even when you have a baby—and one day you will have a baby—it’s always going to be there, trying to take over everything good in your life and remind you of the bad.”
“How did this happen?” Christina’s anguished words pierced the air. “In vitro is our only option. My endometriosis is so far advanced they can’t do anything about it. I don’t know what to do.”
Megan leaned back and extended her legs, slouching in the chair and folding her arms across her stomach. She looked perfectly relaxed, as though she had nothing better to do than sit and talk. “An RE can help you create a plan. That’s code for reproductive endocrinologist, an infertility specialist. I’ve liked mine, and I’d be happy to give you her name and information. There aren’t many in the area.”
“Not yet. I need time to process what’s happened.”
“It takes years to process.” The words were gentle, but with a hint of steel. “My philosophy is it’s better to take action while processing than miss your window of opportunity.”
“I—I can’t. I can’t even think about it.”
“Tell me how you feel,” Megan said.
Christina shook her head. “I can’t—”
“Does it make you feel like less of a woman? Do you feel like you’ve failed Gary?”
“Stop.” Christina covered her face with her hands. Her stomach screamed, but she couldn’t stop the shivers wracking her body.
“Do you feel like your body is broken? Does it make you view yourself differently?”
“I feel like a failure!” The words were out of Christina’s mouth before she consciously thought them, but she instantly knew they were true. She wiped at her cheeks, the cool wet tears trickling down her fingers.
“How have you failed?”
Christina leaned against the pillows and took slow deep breaths, trying to relax the muscle spasms in her midsection. “In church they always tell us that women were put on this earth to be wives and mothers.” The words were slow, painful, and heartbreakingly true. “I’ve had the importance of motherhood drilled into my brain my entire life. It’s our purpose for being here, right?”
Megan said nothing, but kept her gaze steady and reassuring, and her posture relaxed. It was easy to open up to her. She was someone Christina could trust.
“I feel like the Lord has failed me.” Christina winced as she said the words. Stand back, lightning might strike. “He’s commanded us to multiply and replenish the earth. But He’s given me this disease that’s making it nearly impossible for me to obey Him. How is that fair? How is that just?”
Megan shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Am I being completely ridiculous?”
Megan smiled and shook her head. “No. I’ve had the exact same thoughts.”
“How do you do it, year after year? We’ve only been dealing with this for a few months, and already I feel like I’m breaking.”
“It goes in waves. We’ve been at the edge many times. But even though it feels like God’s deserted you—given us this impossible task to accomplish—He hasn’t.” Megan swallowed, and tears brimmed in her eyes. “I’ve felt His hand guiding us on this journey. And even though I have no idea why we’ve had so many disappointments or why He hasn’t given us a baby yet, I know it’s in His hands, and everything is going according to plan. Maybe not my plan, but He knows what He’s doing.” Megan grabbed Christina’s hand. “Don’t let infertility define you. Y
ou are not just someone who is infertile. You’re also a wife and a teacher and a neighbor.” Megan laughed, her voice shaky. “And you have the makings of a really great best friend.”
Christina smiled, squeezing Megan’s hand. “I haven’t had a best friend in years. But visiting me today seems like a best friend thing to do. Thank you for coming.”
“Anytime. We’re in this together. You can talk to me about anything, no matter how awkward or embarrassing. We’re sisters in the Land of IF now.”
“The same goes for you. We can be infertile friends.”
Megan laughed, standing. “I like the sound of that. But we can be friends outside of infertility, too. I should let you sleep. You need to heal so you can get to work on getting pregnant.” She winked.
“Thanks for dinner.”
“Anytime.” Megan paused, her hand on the door. “I’m sorry you’re going through this. I wouldn’t wish infertility on my worst enemy. But you are an answer to my prayers. I am so glad to have a friend that understands. Get better, okay? Physically I mean. The emotional stuff takes a while.”
“How long?”
“I’ll let you know when I get there.”
Am I pregnant? The phrase repeated in Kyra’s head like a broken record for days. Every pregnancy symptom in the book, real or imagined, manifested itself after their IUI. She couldn’t get through Tuesday without an afternoon nap. She unloaded the dishwasher, and her stomach growled and gurgled from bloating. She folded laundry, then curled into a ball on the floor and cried when she realized a crayon had gotten in with the load. This is a good thing, Kyra reminded herself. Last time you didn’t really have any symptoms. Maybe this means the pregnancy’s viable.
If she was even pregnant. It could all be in her head.
Two days, Kyra reminded herself as she helped Sophie dress. Two days, and she’d know for sure.
“What’re we gonna do today, Mommy?” Sophie asked as Kyra helped her put on socks.
“We’re going to drop Daddy off at work and go to the store.”
Sophie frowned. “Does that mean we have to hurry?”
“Yes. We don’t want Daddy to be late.”
At the store Kyra grabbed a cart and strapped Sophie in. Toothpaste, bar soap, and deodorant all were checked off the list and tossed in the cart. Kyra headed for the lotion.
And that’s when she passed it. The family planning rack. There, on the top row, sat boxes of home pregnancy tests, neatly lined up and screaming Kyra’s name. Without consciously deciding to, she brought the cart to a stop.
She didn’t need one. The blood pregnancy test in two days would be accurate enough.
But Kyra needed to see those two pink lines for herself.
“This isn’t lotion,” Sophie said, startling Kyra out of her thoughts.
Before Kyra could argue with herself, she grabbed a box of two—the cheapest brand on the shelf—and threw it into the cart. “We’re going there now.”
Kyra wouldn’t take a test, she told herself as they finished shopping. Not unless the blood test came back positive. Then she’d take it to post the obligatory “We’re pregnant!” photo on social media.
At home, Kyra got Sophie down for a nap, then unpacked the groceries. She put a block of cheese in the fridge, a bunch of bananas in a basket, and moved on to another bag. The pregnancy tests stared up at her. She set them deliberately aside.
The tests bored holes into her as she unloaded bags and put away items. Kyra put a jar of peanut butter in the pantry—the very last item—and wadded up the plastic bags to throw into the recycling bin. What would it hurt to take a test right now? She drummed her fingers on the counter, staring at the box. Results five days before your missed period! it said in large red letters on the front.
She grabbed the box and headed to the bathroom.
If it was negative, that didn’t mean she wasn’t pregnant.
She started the stop-watch on her phone. Two minutes. An eternity.
A negative result could mean her HCG levels weren’t concentrated enough in her urine since she was taking the test mid-day. She should’ve waited for morning like the box recommended. Or it could mean they weren’t high enough yet to show up on the test.
The timer on her phone beeped. Kyra took a deep breath. A negative result didn’t mean anything. A negative result didn’t mean anything. A negative—
One pink line. Not even a hint of a second one.
She threw the test into the trash in disgust.
The morning of Kyra’s HCG test she woke up feeling bloated, nauseated, and definitely pregnant.
“We come here a lot now,” Sophie said as they waited at the clinic. She swung her feet back and forth and held onto the seat of her chair. “It’s kind of boring.”
“I know.” Kyra reached into her purse and withdrew a coloring book and crayons. “Want to color?”
“No, that’s boring.” Sophie sighed dramatically. “Maybe I can play with your phone or something.”
Kyra hid a smile. “Here you go.” Sophie could find which game she wanted without Kyra’s help.
A few minutes later they were called back. “Do you faint?” the nurse asked as they walked to the phlebotomy room.
Kyra sank into the chair the nurse indicated while Sophie sat on the one next to Kyra. “I never have before. Why?”
“I’ve had three ladies pass out on me this morning.” The nurse shook her head as she prepared the needle. “I haven’t had anyone faint in months, and then three today. And it’s not even nine o’clock.”
“I’ll be fine.” Hopefully. How traumatized would Sophie be if Kyra collapsed?
The nurse wrapped a tourniquet around Kyra’s left forearm. She pumped her fist a few times as instructed, and the nurse inserted the needle.
“Mommy, is she hurting you?” Sophie asked, her eyes wide as she stared at the vial filling with blood.
Kyra shook her head, forcing a smile. It did hurt, but she wasn’t going to let Sophie know. “I’m fine, baby girl. Don’t look, okay?”
“Why does she need blood?”
“They’re going to test it to see if there’s a baby in my tummy.”
Sophie’s lips pursed. “Do you think there is?”
Kyra wanted to say yes. She felt like the answer was yes, whatever that negative home pregnancy test had said. But what if she was wrong? She didn’t want to disappoint Sophie. Again. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Kyra didn’t faint. After the clinic, she and Sophie went to the mall for a needed distraction. They were on their way home when the phone rang. Kyra glanced down, surprised to see the clinic’s phone number. Already? It wasn’t even two o’clock, and they’d told her they’d call between three and five. Kyra answered the phone, her other hand clutching the steering wheel. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mrs. Peterson. I have the results of your HCG test.” The nurse paused. “It’s negative. I’m so sorry.”
Negative.
No baby.
A sucker punch to the gut.
Kyra stopped for a red light. Why hadn’t she pulled over to take this call? “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Stop taking the progesterone. When your period starts, give us a call and we’ll send in a prescription for Clomid and try another IUI.”
“But I have all the pregnancy symptoms.” Kyra’s voice sounded choked. The light turned green, and she followed traffic forward.
The nurse’s voice was soft and compassionate. “Progesterone can mimic pregnancy symptoms. I’m really sorry, Mrs. Peterson.”
Kyra vaguely remembered them mentioning that before the first IUI. She’d forgotten. The disappointment crushed her.
“Thank you for calling,” Kyra said and hung up. She returned both hands to the steering wheel and held it until her fingers throbbed. Focus on the drive. Focus on the road.
“Who was that, Mommy?” Sophie asked.
Kyra cleared her throat, trying to hide the tears. “The doctor’s office.”
“
Is there a baby in your tummy?”
Tears blurred Kyra’s vision, and she blinked. “Not this time.”
Sophie’s voice sounded cheerful and unconcerned. “That’s okay. My baby brother is coming pretty soon I think.”
If only Kyra were so optimistic. She had been optimistic, and look where it had gotten her.
At home, Kyra turned on a movie for Sophie. Then she went to her room and shut the door.
No baby. Their last-chance IUI hadn’t worked. Why? David’s sperm count had been higher this time. They’d had one more follicle. She lay down on the bed and sobbed. Ten minutes. She would allow herself ten minutes to cry before going back to Sophie.
Twelve minutes later, Kyra dried her tears and headed into the family room. Sophie sat on the floor, her eyes glued to the TV screen. Kyra lay down on the couch, wanting to be near Sophie. At least she still had her daughter. It helped, but only a little.
Sophie crawled up on the couch and patted Kyra’s cheeks, frowning. “Are you sad, Mommy?”
Kyra nodded. “Thank you for noticing. That’s very polite.”
“Why are you sad?”
“Because there’s not a baby in my tummy.”
“But he’s coming soon.” Sophie shrugged as though that settled things. “I’m happy.”
“How do you know a baby brother is coming?”
Sophie shrugged again. “I just do.” She snuggled up against Kyra’s side and focused on the TV. Kyra wrapped her arms around Sophie and held tight.
They cuddled and watched TV until it was time to pick David up from work.
“How about we stop at the park on the way home?” Kyra said.
“Yay!” Sophie ran off to find her jacket. Kyra grabbed her purse, and they left.
David was waiting when they arrived. “Hey.” He kissed Kyra as she got out of the car to let him drive. “I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. I had meetings all day. How did the appointment go?” His voice, bright with hope, broke Kyra’s heart.
She shook her head, the devastation washing over her again. “It didn’t work.”
Chasing Someday Page 17
