Chasing Someday

by Lindzee Armstrong

“Shhh. We don’t need to talk about this right now. We can take a month off. Kyra, breathe. You’re scaring me.”

  “I—” A rustle on the baby monitor cut off Kyra’s words, followed by Sophie’s ear-splitting wail.

  Kyra shook her head to clear the black spots in her vision and ran up the stairs. David was right behind her.

  “Kyra, go lie down. I’ve got this,” he said.

  She sent him a withering glare. “I’ve been gone quite enough today. I’m going to comfort my daughter now.” And she opened Sophie’s door.

  “That was weird,” Megan told Trent as they waited in the exam room for Dr. Mendoza.

  “What?”

  She gave an exasperated sigh. “Kyra! Here. At the fertility clinic.”

  He leaned forward and gave Megan a kiss. “What I’m concerned about right now is everything going well with the egg retrieval.”

  Megan’s stomach clenched. “That’s why I keep bringing up Kyra—to keep my mind off of things.”

  Dr. Mendoza walked in, and a nurse followed behind her.

  “Ready, Megan?” Dr. Mendoza asked as the nurse prepped Megan’s arm for the IV.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Megan said.

  “Your sperm count wasn’t fantastic, but adequate,” Dr. Mendoza told Trent as the nurse worked. “Four-point-seven million. I would’ve liked to see it over five million, but we can work with this.”

  A shudder of relief coursed through Megan as Trent’s shoulders visibly relaxed. They’d been so concerned the whole cycle would have to be canceled because the sperm count wouldn’t be high enough.

  “I still think we should do ICSI,” Dr. Mendoza continued. “To give this cycle the best chance.”

  ICSI. Intracytoplasmic sperm injection. Instead of throwing Trent’s sperm in a petri dish with Megan’s eggs, they’d carefully pick out the best sperm, and inject one directly into each egg. Of course, it would cost more money. But it was worth it after coming this far.

  “Let’s do it,” Megan said. “Whatever gives us the best odds.”

  “Of course,” Dr. Mendoza said. “Let’s get started.”

  Megan took a deep breath and gave Trent a reassuring smile. This would work. It had to.

  “Hey, Christina.” Megan lay flat on the couch, resting today at Trent’s insistence, and held the cell phone against her ear.

  “Hey, Meg. How did the egg retrieval go? I thought about you all day yesterday.”

  “It went good. We retrieved five eggs. They’re using ICSI on all of them.”

  “That’s great.”

  They had hoped for more eggs, but were thrilled they’d gotten any. “You’ll never believe who I saw at the fertility clinic.”

  “Who?”

  “Kyra.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Megan shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. “I know. Why would she keep that a secret from us? We could’ve been helping her the last three months.”

  “Maybe she didn’t want us to know.”

  That Megan couldn’t comprehend. “Why?”

  “I know you don’t see it this way, but it’s embarrassing for a lot of women. We’re really good friends, and I still didn’t tell you until my surgery.”

  “Yeah, and that was silly of you.”

  “All I’m saying is I understand where Kyra’s coming from. She’s actually why I’m calling. Did you know Sophie broke her arm?”

  “I had no idea.” It must’ve happened after she saw Kyra at the clinic. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. She’ll be in a cast for six weeks but doesn’t need surgery.”

  “That’s got to be stressful for Kyra, especially on top of everything else. Maybe we should take her out for a girl’s night. Dinner, a movie, the whole thing.”

  “Sounds fun,” Christina agreed.

  “I can do it next weekend, after the egg transfer and bed rest.”

  “I’ll call her and let you know.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Christina called Megan back. “Girls’ night next Friday. Seven o’clock. I’ll drive.”

  “See you then.” Megan wondered how that night would play out.

  Megan wasn’t sure why she was so nervous for their girls’ night out.

  “You’re preening way more than you do for a date,” Trent said with a pout.

  “It’s been a long time since I went out with friends. Don’t be jealous.” Megan winked.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “Dinner first, then maybe a movie. We’ll see how the evening goes.”

  “Just take care of yourself,” he said gruffly. “It’s only been a week since the transfer.”

  And seven days until they found out if it worked—tomorrow for Christina. Like Megan could forget.

  Christina waited for Megan in her driveway, and a few moments later they pulled up to Kyra’s. The front door opened, and Kyra stepped outside. Megan saw tiny Sophie waving goodbye at the door, her arm overwhelmed by a pink cast, while David stood protectively beside her.

  “Hi,” Kyra said as she climbed into the backseat.

  “You ready for an awesome night?” Megan asked.

  Kyra smiled, but it seemed unsure. “Of course.”

  Christina rolled her eyes. “Megan seems to think we’re all sixteen and going to spend the night talking about boys.”

  Megan made a psh sound. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I’m eternally sixteen at heart.”

  They made polite small talk during the drive and while waiting for their food at the restaurant. Once the waitress left, Christina and Kyra dug into their meals. Megan sighed and did the same. Were they going to make light conversation all evening?

  Maybe Megan should follow Christina’s advice and pretend she’d never seen Kyra at the fertility clinic.

  They were halfway done with their food when Megan set down her fork. She wasn’t Christina. “Are we seriously going to avoid this topic all evening?”

  Kyra looked like a deer in the headlights, and Christina frowned.

  “We don’t need to talk about it,” Christina said. “Not if Kyra doesn’t want to.”

  “Yes, we do.” Megan locked eyes with Kyra. “I know you’re hurting from the miscarriage. I know you’re mad and angry and upset.” Megan shook her head, the tears burning. “Christina and I are mad too. I am so sick and tired of everyone acting like infertility is a subject to be avoided. It hurts, and it sucks, and not talking about it makes everything worse. You knew I was struggling with infertility, and you knew Christina was. And yet you never said anything. That hurt.”

  “Not everyone wants to talk about it,” Christina said, casting a glance at Kyra.

  “Yes, some of us like to hold things in until we explode at our in-laws.” Megan gave Christina a pointed glance.

  Christina opened her mouth to retort, but Kyra broke in. “Megan’s right. It does make it worse not to talk about it. I’m sorry I never said anything. I was . . . embarrassed. They can’t even tell me why I can’t get pregnant. And I felt insignificant. IUI pales in comparison to in vitro.”

  “Your problems aren’t less significant,” Megan said. “I am so sorry you felt that way.”

  “Infertility hurts, no matter the cause,” Christina said quietly.

  “Aren’t you mad?” Megan asked them. “Mad at infertility?”

  “Yeah,” Kyra said. “I’m furious it’s so hard for me to get pregnant. I’m furious about the miscarriage. Why did God give me a baby, then take it away? And I’m furious infertility made me be at the doctor’s when Sophie broke her arm instead of home, keeping her safe.” Her voice caught on the last word. “I feel like I’m so busy trying to figure out how to get the next kid I can’t even focus on the one I have, and I don’t know how to make it stop. Because I can’t stop thinking about it. Every second of every day it’s on my mind.” Her eyes shimmered with tears, her voice raw with emotion. “I’m tired of not talking about it. Of pretending like it doesn’t hurt. It sucks.
I hate it, and I’m bitter, and I don’t care.”

  Silence. Christina looked shocked at Kyra’s outburst, but Megan wasn’t. She’d been infertile long enough to know it had probably been a long time coming.

  What did shock Megan was Christina’s reply. “I’m mad too,” Christina said. “I’m so mad I can’t even see straight. And sometimes I think this whole thing is my fault. Gary and I focused on our careers, and maybe we lost our window of opportunity. Truthfully, I feel like I don’t deserve to be a mom. I chose teaching over motherhood, and now I’m getting what I deserve.”

  “Don’t say that.” Kyra looked shocked. “You’re going to be an excellent mother.”

  Christina shrugged. “You don’t know that. No one does. The whole thing is a crap shoot.”

  “I don’t even want to be optimistic that IVF worked, because I can’t handle the hurt if it didn’t,” Megan admitted. “Why do teenage girls get pregnant in the back of cars every day, but women who are ready for children can’t? It’s like they’re accidentally blessed with what I’ve prayed and begged for without any results.”

  “It must be so hard to teach Sienna,” Kyra said.

  “It was,” Megan said. “I used to be so jealous of girls like her. But the last few months I’ve watched Sienna, and I think, ‘How is this fair to anyone?’ She’s having such a hard time, and my heart hurts every time I see her. I can’t be jealous. I definitely can’t hate her. Her entire future has changed because of one error in judgment.”

  Christina nodded. “I think in vitro worked. For both of us.” She turned to Kyra. “And you’ll get pregnant soon.”

  “Our last IUI failed,” Kyra said. “We met with Dr. Mendoza, and she wants us to do one more before moving on to in vitro. Sometimes I feel like we’re throwing money down a really large drain.”

  The waitress appeared then. “Can I get you some dessert?” she asked.

  Megan usually passed on dessert at restaurants, but this called for chocolate. She pointed to a chocolate brownie heart attack on the menu. “Bring us three of these. We’re all in serious crisis mode.”

  The waitress paused, then took the dessert menu from Megan. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it’s nothing to do with your meal.”

  “We’re infertile,” Megan said. “All of us. And I don’t think the food’s to blame.”

  The waitress’s mouth dropped open, and then she walked away without saying a word. Kyra burst into laughter, and Christina shook her head.

  By the time dinner ended, they were all laughing and crying and complaining about their infertility.

  “I think we need to have a bonfire,” Megan said as they all stood to leave. “My house. Let’s forget the movie and go buy the fixings for s’mores.”

  “We just had dessert,” Christina said.

  Megan shrugged. “So what? We’ll have an impromptu infertility funeral.”

  Christina’s eyebrows rose. “A funeral? Really? That’s a little . . .”

  “It’s perfect,” Kyra said.

  “I was going to say morbid,” Christina said.

  “I’m serious. Let’s do it for all the babies we haven’t had. For all the dreams that have been broken. For everything we’ve given up.”

  “Okay.” Christina glanced back and forth between Kyra and Megan. “I think you’re crazy, but I’m in.”

  They stopped at the store and bought graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate. Trent was surprised when they all walked through the front door. He reached for the remote, muting ESPN.

  “You ladies are home early.”

  “We’re going out back for a bonfire,” Megan said. “It’s a funeral for our infertility.”

  Trent didn’t even raise an eyebrow. He nodded as though that made perfect sense and unmuted the TV. “Don’t burn yourself. Call me if you need a Boy Scout.”

  They didn’t need a Boy Scout, and in no time they had the fire blazing.

  “What now?” Christina asked, staring into the flames.

  Megan thought about this. How were they supposed to heal from this kind of hurt and pain? “I think it’s time we accept ourselves for who we are,” Megan said.

  Christina snorted.

  “I’m serious!” Megan turned to Kyra. “Kyra, you have a child. How did you feel about yourself when you had Sophie?”

  Kyra looked surprised at the question. “Good, I guess. I mean, I never really thought about it before. I finally had a clear purpose in life. When they laid Sophie in my arms for the first time, I couldn’t believe God had trusted me with this perfect little human. That out of all the women in the world He could have sent Sophie to, He chose me.” She clutched her hands together in her lap. “When we didn’t get pregnant again right away, it felt like the Lord took back His trust. Like I hadn’t done a good job with Sophie, and He wasn’t sure if I should have another chance. But we got pregnant, and I thought, ‘Wow, He does trust us.’ When we had the miscarriage, it felt like some big cosmic joke.”

  Christina and Megan didn’t say a word. Megan had always wondered if God didn’t trust her enough, if that was why she had PCOS. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d rationalized that she’d never had children, so how could He possibly not trust her with one? But Kyra’s fear was so raw and real.

  The fire crackled, the only sound between them. Kyra hung her head and sobbed. Her whole body convulsed with the movement. Megan sat next to her on the bench, placing an arm around her shaking shoulders.

  “He must not trust me.” Kyra’s words were muffled. “Because He took away our baby, our second chance. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get another child.”

  Megan looked at Christina across the firelight, helpless.

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Christina said. Her words were harsh, and Megan winced. Christina’s voice softened. “It’s ridiculous, because I’ve never seen a better mother than you.”

  Kyra wiped at her eyes. “You’re just saying that.”

  “No, I’m not. I see a lot of parents through teaching. A lot of really, really bad parents. And I can assure you that you’re not one of them.”

  “Sophie broke her arm.”

  “Yeah. And it was an accident. I’ve met parents who purposely broke their child’s arm. You try, Kyra. You make mistakes, but you try.”

  “I have an idea,” Megan said. “I’ll be right back.” She returned a few minutes later with a notebook and pen for each of them. “Write everything you hate about infertility on here. Everything that’s unfair and unjust and hurtful. Write down all the bad thoughts and feelings you have.”

  “And then what?” Kyra asked.

  Megan smiled. “We’ll toss it into the fire and burn it. Tonight we’re starting fresh, ladies. We are not our infertility. This isn’t a punishment. It’s just life. And we are going to stop living like victims and start choosing how to think and feel and act about this. We are strong, independent women. We’re more than this.”

  For the next fifteen minutes they were quiet. Megan hunched over her notebook, barely able to read what she wrote in the dim glow of the fire. Tears streamed down her face as she wrote. I hate feeling like my body is broken. I hate feeling like I’ve failed Trent. I hate that I am left out of so many conversations because I don’t have kids. I hate feeling sad. I hate not being in control of the situation.

  On and on Megan wrote. Eventually she ran out of things to say. She stopped and looked up. Christina and Kyra were both waiting patiently.

  “Well?” Megan asked.

  “I’m ready to burn this thing,” Christina said.

  They all stood and walked to the fire.

  “On the count of three?” Megan asked. They nodded. “One . . . two . . . three!”

  They threw their pages on the fire. Flames licked at the paper. Megan watched in fascination as the fire curled around the edges, turning it to ash.

  I am enough for Trent, even if we never have children. I can still live a fulfilling and h
appy life, even if I’m never a mother. The Lord has given me this trial because He knows I’m strong enough to handle it. Megan listed off every positive thing she could think of until the notebooks were completely consumed by flames. Flecks of ash rose into the air, disappearing into the night sky.

  “Well?” Megan looked between Christina and Kyra.

  “I feel better,” Christina said.

  “Lighter,” Kyra added.

  “Maybe IVF worked,” Megan said.

  “I think it’s going to work. For both of you.” Kyra was quiet for a moment. “Sophie keeps telling me her baby brother is on the way. I’m going to start believing her.”

  “To positivity,” Megan said. “Who wants a s’more?”

  Christina had never been so nervous for a blood test. As the nurse prepared the needle, then inserted it into the vein in her arm, she felt nothing but panic.

  The nurse slapped a label on the vial of blood and told Christina she’d get a phone call before the end of the day with the results.

  All day to think, and no work to keep her mind off things. Back at home, Christina looked around her perfectly clean and orderly house. There were no dishes in the sink. No laundry to be washed. Nothing at all to distract her.

  She walked resolutely to the pantry and pulled out the step-stool. Behind the bins of xylitol and gluten-free flour was her secret stash. She selected a can of chocolate fudge frosting. She had at least four hours of shows on her DVR. Today seemed like a good day for laziness and indulging.

  She watched all four hours of unrealistic dating scenarios and miraculous weight loss transformations. Then she watched another hour of mindless sitcom reruns. She was debating between two movies when the telephone rang. Her hand shook, and she frantically tried to push the talk button on the cell phone.

  “Hello?” she squeaked. “Yeah, this is Christina.”

  “I have the results of your HCG test.”

  Christina clutched at the phone, her emotions as taught as a wire.

  “Congratulations, Mrs. Vincent. You’re pregnant.”

  The wire broke. Christina dropped her head into her hands with a sob.