Chasing Someday

by Lindzee Armstrong

  His face blanched. “Are they sure?”

  She nodded.

  David stood there, then leaned down and kissed her once more. “We can talk about this at home.”

  “I promised Sophie we’d go to the park,” Kyra said as they climbed into the van.

  “Yeah,” Sophie said from the back. “Mommy said we can go to the big park.”

  “Well, let’s get going,” David said.

  It was an especially warm April day. They told Sophie to stay in sight and sat down on a bench to watch her play.

  “I’m so sorry, Kyra,” David said. “I really thought it would work.”

  “Me too.” A tear fell, and she wiped it away. “I feel like we missed out on our last shot.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “We said we had enough money for one more IUI, and it didn’t work.”

  “I have the promotion now. I think we can squeeze in another attempt.”

  “But we have the van payment too.” A van with extra space they didn’t need. “That’s eating up almost all of our available resources.” Why hadn’t they bought a car?

  “The fertility clinic told us we could apply for a loan. Maybe we should set up a consultation with their financial representative.”

  “Do we really want to go into debt for another disappointment?” Kyra’s voice was high pitched, her nerves frayed. David leaned forward to hug her, and she crumpled against him. “I’m serious, David.”

  “We owe ourselves another shot. Are you willing to try again?”

  The hole in her heart had doubled in size. “What if it doesn’t work again? We had three follicles this time. Three—one more than last time. And none of them worked.”

  “We’re not going to do this. We’ll stay optimistic and hopeful. We can swing one more try if we apply for the loan. I’m not ready to give up.”

  “I can’t jump into another cycle right now. I need a month to think about things.”

  “Kyra—”

  “I’m not saying no. I’m saying give me a month.”

  He nodded reluctantly. David kissed her temple, then sighed. “I’m so sorry, Kyr. So, so sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  Two days later, her period started. It hurt worse than the phone call from the clinic. Kyra locked herself in the bedroom and organized their closet, leaving David to get Sophie ready for bed. How could something hurt this badly?

  But she knew how. Three little follicles had matured and ovulated. They had been right there, ready to fertilize. Losing them meant losing three possibilities. Three chances at a miracle.

  Kyra wondered how many more chances they would get.

  Christina had expected the fertility clinic to be different than her obstetrician’s office. It wasn’t. Doctors’ office couches, nondescript paintings, friendly staff. The two were identical, unless you considered the patients. None of the women here were pregnant, at least that she could tell.

  One week. Christina couldn’t believe it had only been a week since her surgery. She fidgeted with her purse strap as she listened to Dr. Mendoza confirm Dr. Blakely’s diagnosis. Gary sat in the chair next to her, his expression carefully blank.

  “Your endometriosis is quite severe,” Dr. Mendoza said, “and unfortunately there’s nothing we can do to unblock your tubes without damaging them. The fact they’re attached to the ovaries is also a problem. It makes it practically impossible for the tubes to catch an egg. Sometimes the stretching of the uterus during pregnancy will pull scar tissue away and make the tubes usable again, but for now we have to bypass them. And the only way to do that is in vitro.”

  “What exactly is involved in IVF?” Christina asked. Did she want to know?

  “The first step in the process is to suppress your natural cycle,” Dr. Mendoza said. “You’ll administer daily injections of Lupron for ten days. Then we do an ultrasound and perform a blood test to check your estrogen levels. If we successfully suppressed your cycle, we can move on to the next step—boosting your egg supply. That means twelve days of injections of Lupron, along with Follistim. About day five of Follistim, we do another ultrasound to make sure there are enough follicles developing to continue the cycle.”

  Christina’s mind reeled. “So almost an entire month of daily shots?”

  Dr. Mendoza nodded. “Thirty-six hours before we go in for the egg retrieval, you give yourself another injection. This time it’s an HCG shot to trigger ovulation.”

  Christina gave up calculating how many shots she’d be administering to herself. No way Gary would be around to do it. “Then what?”

  “You come into the office, and we retrieve the eggs.” Dr. Mendoza pulled out a chart and pointed. “We use an ultrasound to guide the whole process. A tube is inserted up through your vagina, and that’s used to guide a needle into your ovary to retrieve the eggs.”

  Christina flinched, and Gary took her hand in a comforting gesture. “Am I awake for this?”

  “We sedate you. My patients tell me it’s not too painful.” Dr. Mendoza smiled sympathetically. “Then you start taking more injections to help prepare your uterine lining for implantation. After the egg retrieval, we collect a sperm sample. The eggs and sperm are mixed and closely monitored in our laboratory for about eighteen hours. We take the eggs that have fertilized and incubate them in our laboratory for another one to two days.”

  Christina’s mind spun with the complexity of the procedure. “And after that, you put them back in me and freeze the rest?”

  Dr. Mendoza nodded. “We pick the best two to implant, again using an ultrasound and catheter. Strict bed rest is encouraged for two days afterward. You’ll start daily injections of progesterone at that point. Two weeks later, we do a blood pregnancy test to see if it worked.”

  Christina had never known IVF was so involved. There were so many places along the way where things could go wrong. So many opportunities for failure.

  “That’s really intense,” Gary said. His gaze flicked to Christina. “Maybe we should wait.”

  Christina knew what that meant. He wasn’t ready for this.

  Dr. Mendoza spoke up. “I don’t want to frighten you, but endometriosis is something that progresses over time. The longer you wait, the less chance you’ll have of success.”

  Christina’s stomach tightened. Gary was already backpedaling, and now they had a ticking time bomb on their hands.

  They talked with Dr. Mendoza for another hour, weighing the risks and benefits. Eventually Gary and Christina looked at each other. They’d run out of questions to ask.

  “Most patients need time to process this,” Dr. Mendoza said. “When you’re ready, call us, and we’ll get the ball rolling.”

  Christina barely registered the walk to the car. “Well?” she asked Gary when they climbed inside.

  “The whole thing is so involved.”

  Christina’s chest tightened. “We have to do it. Now. It’s our only chance.” Her throat caught on the word. “I’m ready to be a mom, Gary.”

  He sighed, pulling onto the main road and heading toward home. “That’s like six weeks of daily hormone injections. More if we get pregnant. Are you ready for six weeks of hormone injections?”

  “Yes! I’ll give them to myself. You won’t have to do a thing.”

  “Can we handle the disappointment if it doesn’t work? I’m not ready to see you go through that.”

  Christina threw up her hands. “It’s not like I’m thrilled right now. At least we’ll know we gave it our best attempt.”

  “I want a child. But I’ve got to be honest. I’m not ready for this.”

  “You heard the doctor. It’s now or never.” Christina slammed a hand on the dashboard. “Dang it, Gar. I thought we were past this. You told me you’d be there for me, that we’d be in it together. Was that just talk?”

  “Of course not.” His voice was quiet, soothing. Contemplative. “But what if we go to all this effort to have a baby, and I screw up our kid?”

&nb
sp; Christina opened her mouth to respond, then shut it, a new terror gripping her heart. “I don’t know. What if we do screw him up?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Well, you’re kind of freaking me out right now. I’ve never been a parent before. It scares me too. But not enough to give up. I want a baby. Your baby.”

  He reached out and took her hand. “Me too.”

  “You’re willing to try?”

  He nodded slowly, hesitantly. “I couldn’t live with myself if I made us wait, and we never had a child. Money isn’t an issue, so whenever you feel ready.”

  “I’m ready now.”

  They were quiet the rest of the way home, but Christina felt the nervous bubbles in her stomach. They were really going to do this. She had never imagined she would one day have to turn to in vitro, but now that they were here, she was okay with it. The needles and procedures and hormones didn’t scare her. But the thought of never being a mother did.

  It’s going to work, Christina told herself. Have faith.

  Megan’s cell phone rang, a shotgun in the quiet kitchen. She jumped and yanked the phone out of her pocket, putting the last gallon of milk in the refrigerator door as she did so. The number of the fertility clinic flashed across the screen. “Hello?” She clutched the phone, closing her eyes tight and praying for all she was worth.

  “Hi, this is Natalie from the Center for Infertility and Reproductive Medicine. Is this Megan?”

  Megan nodded, then realized Natalie couldn’t see her and forced herself to speak. “Yes.” Please let it be positive.

  “I’m calling with the results of your HCG test.”

  Please let it be positive.

  “It’s negative. I’m sorry, Megan.”

  Negative. “Really?” Her legs trembled beneath her.

  “Dr. Mendoza would like to schedule a consultation to discuss where to go from here.”

  Megan made the appointment and hung up, then clutched the phone to her chest. She leaned against the fridge and slid to the floor, sobbing.

  Negative.

  Empty. A dark void had engulfed Megan’s heart and swallowed her whole. Trent and Megan sat in Dr. Mendoza’s office, hands clasped. Trent’s eyes were suspiciously red—had been for two days now. He’d taken the news as hard as she had.

  The door clicked open. Dr. Mendoza gave them a sympathetic smile and sat down at her desk. Stop smiling! Megan wanted to scream. She didn’t want the doctor’s pity.

  She’s trying to help you, Megan reminded herself. She didn’t hate Dr. Mendoza. It was the hormones talking. It always took a few weeks to get them out of Megan’s system.

  “I’d say it’s good to see you, but I’d hoped we wouldn’t have to have this conversation.” Dr. Mendoza leaned forward, arms on the desk, fingers clasped together. “How are you doing?”

  Megan didn’t want to start crying. Again. “We’re disappointed. Where do we go from here?”

  Dr. Mendoza pulled out her reading glasses and opened their file. “In vitro.”

  Megan’s heart plummeted. Trent looked as devastated as she felt. They had known that was where they were headed, but to actually hear it said aloud . . .

  “We’re at that point?” Megan’s voice was barely a whisper.

  “I’m afraid so. You’ve done six IUIs, and last cycle we had near perfect circumstances.”

  Megan’s hands shook, and she held her back rigid, trying to keep the shivers from overtaking her body.

  “What are our chances with IVF?” Trent asked.

  “About fifty percent a cycle, so significantly higher than an insemination.”

  “And if it doesn’t work?” Megan didn’t want to ask the question, but she had to know.

  “We can try again.”

  Megan brought a trembling hand to her face and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “How much does one round of in vitro cost?”

  “We can set up a meeting with one of our financial advisers to get a more accurate number, but it will probably be somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty thousand dollars for a fresh cycle.”

  Megan gulped. Twenty thousand dollars. For one attempt.

  “If we’re able to freeze eggs, it would cost about five thousand dollars next time. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. IVF works best if you minimize stress. We know there’s a link between stress and infertility. And we know it’s impossible to relax and not worry about IVF. That’s why it’s important to get rid of any stresses you can eliminate. Now, I’m sure you have some questions.”

  They left the doctor’s office in a daze. Megan’s whole world had imploded. In vitro. In the beginning, she’d honestly never considered they’d have to go to such lengths to have a child.

  At home, Trent took Megan’s hand and led her to their patio. He pulled her onto the porch swing, and she curled up against his side. They sat there in silence, rocking.

  “What are you thinking about?” Trent asked quietly.

  “I’m thinking about our wedding day, and how I never imagined life would take us here. I can’t believe we’re to this point.”

  He slowly stroked her hair. “You want to do it though, right? In vitro, I mean.”

  Megan shook her head and felt his arms tense in response. “No. I am sick and tired of the hormones and treatments and appointments and drugs. I want to stop.” Trent opened his mouth, and Megan put a finger to his lips. “But I want a baby more. So no, I don’t want to do IVF. But I’m willing to give it a try.”

  His grip relaxed, and he rested his chin on her head. “You don’t have to put yourself through this. We can adopt. Sienna—”

  “You know that baby’s not ours. And I want to give pregnancy every chance.”

  He nodded, accepting her words. “Then you should cut back at work. Relax and spend more time with the piano.”

  Megan put her feet down to stop the movement of the swing. “That makes no sense at all. Did you hear how much IVF costs? We need my income now more than ever.”

  Trent pulled her against him, setting the swing in motion again. “We need to minimize stress so we only have to do it once. My income is enough for our day-to-day expenses. I’m not suggesting you quit, just cut back. We have enough in savings to offset the difference.” He hugged her tight. “You need to take it easy. Take on a few more piano students if you’re worried about money. At least that doesn’t stress you out. I need my wife.”

  Megan didn’t like it, but she couldn’t argue with his logic. She did feel tired. She was ready for a break.

  The next day, she told her boss she was going to part-time.

  “Hey.” Megan opened the door wider to let Sienna inside. “How’ve you been this week?”

  Sienna stepped inside, looking dazed. “Juilliard’s accepted me for fall semester.”

  “Sienna, that’s great!” Megan laughed, pulling her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Sienna hunched her shoulders and started to cry. “They’ve accepted me for fall semester. And I can’t go until after the baby’s born.”

  “You’ll just have to defer a semester. This is Juilliard we’re talking about.” Megan patted Sienna’s hand. “You'll figure it out.”

  “My mom and I have spent all week on the phone with them. They won’t let me defer. I’ll have to reapply next year.”

  “Oh, Sienna.” Megan wrapped an arm around her and guided her to the piano bench. Juilliard. Every musician’s dream. Gone, just like that. “I’m so sorry.”

  Sienna looked down, tracing circles on her barely showing stomach. “It’s a boy. We found out yesterday.”

  A boy. Megan blinked. An actual human being. Someone who would grow up to love football and eat entire pizzas and graduate college. “That’s . . . great.” It sounded lame, but it didn’t feel like a congratulations-type moment.

  “He was wiggling and jumping around like crazy on the ultrasound. And all I could think was, ‘He’s the reason I don’t get to go to Juilliard.’ I want to slap myself fo
r being so selfish.”

  Megan didn’t know what to say. “Maybe Juilliard is still a possibility. You got in once. You can get in again. Let’s start practicing for next year’s audition, okay?”

  Sienna nodded and started to play.

  Sunday dinners with Elauna and Alexander were as unavoidable as taxes. Christina and Gary had dodged them for two weeks, citing Christina’s surgery as the reason, but now they were out of excuses and on the front doorstep with a plate of brownies and a carton of ice cream.

  Elauna flung open the door and held out her arms, waiting for Gary’s hug. “Hello, darling. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten us.”

  “Of course not, Mom. We’ve been busy.”

  “Oh yes, the surgery. How are you feeling, Christina? It’s lucky they were able to remove your appendix before it burst.”

  Appendicitis—that was the “surgery” they said Christina had. She held out the brownies to Elauna. “I’m feeling better. We brought brownies and ice cream for dessert.”

  Elauna raised her eyebrows. “Are they one of those mixes?”

  Christina was more than a little insulted. “Of course not. I made them from scratch.” With all natural and organic ingredients. They were even vegan.

  Elauna took the pan, frowning. “Pity.” She headed toward the kitchen. “One of the partners brought us the most divine brownies last week. He said his daughter made them from a mix. So simple, and so yummy.”

  “Unbelievable,” Christina muttered.

  “Be nice,” Gary whispered. “We’ll eat and leave, okay?”

  “There’s a package on the couch for you, dears,” Elauna said from the kitchen.

  Christina’s eyes met Gary’s in horror. “But they haven’t gone anywhere,” she said.

  Elauna reappeared in the front entryway. “Well, I can buy things from around here too, Christina.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  Alexander appeared and thrust a box at Gary. “Here. Just open the darn thing so your mother will stop throwing a tantrum.”

  “I wasn’t throwing a tantrum,” Elauna insisted.