The Pregnancy Test (The Marin Test Series Book 3)

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The Pregnancy Test (The Marin Test Series Book 3) Page 10

by Amanda Aksel


  “That's really up to you,” Dr. Pia answered with soft compassion in her voice. “You can keep trying to conceive naturally. We can do another round of IUI, or we can look into some other options.”

  “Like IVF?” I asked, hating that I even had to consider it.

  She nodded. “Yes, that would be one of the alternate options we could try.”

  “I don't know, Marin. Maybe we should try this again first,” James said.

  I wiggled my hand out of his and turned my body toward him. “Why? So we can get the same results? If I had just turned twenty-five, I would totally agree with you, but I'm not and I don't want to waste any more time. I think we should just give it our very best shot, which would be IVF.”

  “I know, but this isn't something to go into lightly,” James said, keeping his voice calm, the polar opposite of mine. “It’s a big decision and a lot of money. Let’s go home and think about it.”

  “James has a good point, Marin. You don’t have to make a decision today. I know this is a lot,” Dr. Pia chimed in.

  True, James and I were not made of money. Especially in a city like San Francisco and with a mortgage and the home renovations we'd been doing. We’d never thought to create a fertility savings fund. But we did have the money. The rest of the kitchen could wait. In fact, I'd give up our kitchen plans if it meant we could have a baby.

  So instead of arguing in front of the doctor I said, “Okay, we'll talk about it and let you know. But before we leave, can you go through the process and costs with us so we can have all the information?”

  She smiled. “Absolutely.”

  Half an hour later, we left Dr. Pia’s office with heavy hearts and busy thoughts. The news felt even more real once I stepped outside and could take my first breath of fresh air. I was right, knowing that the IUI didn’t take.

  “You wanna get ice cream?” James asked.

  I just shook my head. “Actually, I think I'm just gonna go to the office. Can you drop me off?”

  He nodded and we walked the two blocks to our parked car in silence. It took everything I had not to break down in front of him. I wanted to show him that I was strong and that I was the eternal optimist that he’d married. But in that moment I felt like nothing was going to work and I would be exactly where Holly was. Wanting something so badly but knowing it was impossible.

  At the office, Diana sat perched behind the front desk, her mouth parted, ready to greet me. But as usual, she was too slow and I had quickly turned on my heel for my private office and closed myself in. I leaned against the door and let the tears fall freely down my face. Would I ever get pregnant or was I destined for a series of negative tests?

  I grabbed the box of tissues from the table and lay down on the couch, curled up like a baby. I’d cried on that couch many times before, but this was by far the most heartbroken I’d been. More than when my fiancé cheated on me. And more than when I thought I’d never be James’ wife. When the tears subsided, I made a cup of tea and worked at my desk until the early evening. For whatever reason, no one bothered me and I wondered if James had let Andy know what was going on. Maybe even asked him to keep an eye on me. Then I wondered who would keep an eye on James. I didn’t think he took the blow as hard as I did, but it couldn’t have been easy for him either. I decided that I’d better pack up and head home so James and I could watch each other.

  Marvin was on my heels the moment I walked in the front door, nudging my hand to pet him. My sweet husband was busy serving noodles from Chinese cartons when I walked into the kitchen. Neither of us smiled or even looked at one another. We sat down at the table, uttering things to each other quietly, like “how many spring rolls do you want?” And “I'll get the drinks.”

  As I chewed on my lo mein, I looked up at James’ weary face. It was rare for him to look so beat. Maybe I underestimated his heartbreak and the news had been just as difficult for him.

  “James,” I said and he looked up. “Is everything okay?”

  “Obviously not.” He dropped his chopsticks and jabbed a fork into his fried rice.

  “I know you’re disappointed—”

  He shook his head. “It’s not just that. This has been a really stressful year so far with this baby stuff, Rachel and David, and work's been tough the last few weeks.”

  “Really? What's going on?” Either James hadn’t mentioned his work troubles before or I had been a really bad wife.

  “I told you about the new manager,” he said.

  I tilted my head. “Yeah, I thought you said he was great."

  He kept his eyes lowered. “I thought he was at first, but now he's putting pressure on all of us to shorten our therapy times so we can see more patients in one day. It makes my job a lot harder.”

  I didn't want to tell him that I’d been tempted to cut my patients’ time so I could see more now that my patient list was twice the size. “Why didn't you mention it earlier?”

  He glanced up with his sorrowful eyes and I wanted to lunge across the table, wrap my arms around his neck, and take all of his struggles away. “I know that you have a lot going on at work too and you've been stressed out about getting pregnant. I didn't want to bother you with it.”

  Had I been that much of a pain that he didn't even want to talk to me about his life? I pushed off my chair and went to his side. “It's not a bother. I want to know about this stuff. What's the point of being married to a therapist if you can't talk about your issues?”

  He gave a half smile. “You're more than just a therapist.”

  I touched my forehead to his. “Maybe lately I've been too much. I'm sorry about everything that's going on. I just want us to have a baby so badly. I'll try to be less intense about it.”

  He let the tiniest chuckle leave his lips. “Marin, you only have two speeds: easy going and one hundred miles per hour.”

  I threw my head back in a big laugh. “True.” The man knew his wife.

  “I know that's why you want to do IVF so soon. But I really don't think it's a good idea. At least not yet.” He squeezed the top of my thigh in his hand and I knew he wanted me to relax.

  But my body tensed. “You know the stats. This is practically a guarantee for us.”

  “I know it's a great chance, but I want to wait a little longer and keep trying. Do another round or two of IUI. That’s how my sister got pregnant with Addison. She was around your age.”

  “Really?” I did the math, his sister must’ve been thirty-three. Not thirty-five.

  “Yeah, it worked for them. It could work for us.”

  He was right. I wanted to go one hundred miles per hour, but he wanted to keep me in the garage. Blood rushed through my veins and I wanted to tell him, “No, no, no!”

  “Marin, please. At least think about it.”

  I let out a deep sigh. “Okay, I'll think about it.”

  An hour later, I had just finished making my nightly cup of herbal tea when the doorbell rang. I heard James bounce off the couch and answer the door. When I peeked my head into the living room, Holly, Telly, and little Leo were removing their coats.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I asked.

  Holly held a carton of coconut ice cream and opened her arms. “James called us. He thought you might want some company tonight.”

  I looked over at James. It was sweet that he’d called my best friends in to stand watch.

  He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I told them about what happened. I hope that's okay.”

  “It’s okay. Isn't that sweet, Marin?” Holly said.

  I reached my hand for his and he took it. “Thanks.”

  He pulled me close and kissed my forehead. After a couple of minutes, he headed upstairs, saying that he'd leave us alone to do girl stuff.

  I reached for baby Leo and he came to me without a fuss.

  “Sorry, I couldn't get a sitter,” Telly said.

  “That's okay,” I said in a mommy voice, staring at Leo’s chubby cheeks. “You can always bring
this little guy.”

  Telly scoffed. “Not so little anymore. He got a check-up yesterday and he's already twenty-one pounds!”

  I looked at her and her face quickly changed from amazement to cautious.

  “We don't have to talk about that,” Telly said. “We thought we could watch a show or something.”

  “I'll serve the ice cream!” Holly sang and headed to the kitchen.

  And that was exactly what we did. Two bowls and three episodes of our favorite sitcom later, Leo was sleeping soundly chest down on the couch between Telly and me with his diapered butt propped up on his knees. Marvin snored on the floor between our feet like a middle-aged man, while Holly sat on the rug against the chair.

  “So how’re you doing?” Holly asked, giving my shin a friendly touch.

  I nodded slowly. “'I’m doing okay. I just wish it was easier.” I looked at Holly and we both glanced at Telly.

  Telly shrugged almost apologetically for accidently getting knocked up. “I'd give you mine, but . . . I'm kinda fond of this little guy now.” She gently smoothed down his dark hair, giving him that loving mom-smile. I couldn't wait to smooth back the hair of my own little one that way. And by the look on Holly's face, she couldn't either.

  “I think I want to try IVF,” I said.

  “Really!” they both blurted.

  Holly’s eyes were wide but with a look of hope glistening around her pupils. Telly seemed to side more with James. “Yeah, but James wants me to wait a few more months and see what happens.”

  “IVF sounds so scary, plus it's ridiculously expensive,” Telly said.

  “I'd do it . . .” Holly started. “If I thought it could work.”

  “See.” I shot big, told-you-so eyes to Telly.

  “But . . .” Holly crept in. “Maybe James has a point. I don't think you need to jump into it that quickly. What's a few more months?”

  I wanted to shout, “Everything!” at her. But between their hesitation and James’, I had to take a not-pregnant pause. He never said no, just not right away. There were a lot of things we could do in the meantime that might better our chances. And who knew, maybe we would get pregnant between now and then and could put all that money into our kid's college fund. Or . . . finish the kitchen. I let out a long sigh. Maybe it was time for me to find a new speed somewhere in the middle.

  When the girls left, I hiked upstairs. James was just crawling into bed.

  “Did you have a good time?” he asked.

  I stripped down, pulling my pajamas from my dresser drawer. “Yeah, thanks for calling them. That was really thoughtful.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad it helped.” He curled on his side under the covers.

  I sat down on the bed next to him, pushing his sandy-colored hair away from his face. “We can wait on IVF.”

  He smiled and grabbed my hand, peppering it with little kisses. “Thank you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Hot Date

  James and I had decided to continue the intrauterine insemination treatments until the summer and reassess then. Whenever discussing it, one of us would always say, “But hopefully we’ll get pregnant before then.” Reminding ourselves that there was always a possibility of success.

  Since I had been working a lot more, oftentimes on Saturdays, and James’ job seemed to stress him out more as time went on, we promised that we would not let the whole fertility treatment ordeal get out of hand. We even wrote ourselves a note on our dresser mirror just in case the hormones made us crazy. It read:

  I love my wife. In James’ handwriting.

  I love my husband. In my handwriting.

  We love our baby. He wrote half and I scribbled the other.

  I was catching up on some recent research that had popped up in the positive psychology field, jotting notes on my tablet in bed. James watched ESPN, the remote resting near his mouth. A few minutes later, the TV clicked off and he rolled over to face me. I shifted my glance at him for a second and smiled.

  “I got a question for you,” he said.

  “What’s that?” I asked, half listening and half finishing the journal.

  “How did Telly get pregnant so easily?” He made it sound like he didn’t understand how conceiving a child could be easy for anyone.

  I wanted to tell him, “Dumb luck,” as it was something I asked myself more and more. I knew the answer. “They went away for the weekend, had crazy drunken sex, and . . . she forgot to bring her birth control pills.”

  James seemed to be calculating in his mind. “So unprotected sex, plus alcohol, equals baby?”

  “For some,” I said in a begrudging tone.

  James laid back on his pillow and rested his hands on his chest, his white T-shirt stretched across his wide chest, and I could almost make out the definition in his abs. “I dunno. I feel like that’s a pretty common story with unplanned, and even planned, pregnancies. We should try it.”

  I shot him an odd stare. “Try what?”

  He rolled over on his stomach, tucking his pillow underneath his chin, and gave me a devious grin. “Let’s have crazy drunken sex.”

  I bit my lower lip. A night of drunken love with James would be just what the doctor ordered. Dr. Marin John-Young, that is. “Now?” I said, already rescheduling my morning in my head.

  He laughed. “No, not now. Saturday.” James’ hands inched up the side of my waist. “I’m gonna take you out on a date and get you all liquored up and turned on. Tequila oughta do it.”

  With that naughty look in his eyes and the tips of his fingers tickling my skin, I wanted him to know that I didn’t need tequila to go wild with him. A case of James would be just fine. “Are you sure you don’t want to do it now?” My body already begging for him.

  He rolled back over and switched off his light. “No. I have a long day tomorrow. Besides, we should make a night of it before we start the next round of IUI.”

  What a tease.

  Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. With all the stress from work and doctor’s appointments, a night off seemed like bliss. James and I used to have a lot of fun in and out of the bedroom and I was ready to go back in time. A time when life was simpler and we knew that our best days were ahead of us.

  After a little tapas and a drink at Cha Cha Cha, James and I walked to a nearby bar for more cocktails. It was a warm evening at the end of March, and I asked Telly to borrow one of her sexy, skin-tight, mini-dresses to show off my legs and cleavage. Maybe when I slipped into her dress, I’d also slip into baby-makin’ magic.

  James opened the door to Zam Zam and I stepped inside the bar. I swished my hips back and forth and could feel him watching my ass. We grabbed two empty barstools at the end. Dim red and orange lighting made it just bright enough to make out someone’s face, but not enough to see any flaws on their skin. James was perfect regardless of lighting, but staring at him in the ambient hue made me feel like we were on our first date. “I think you should tell Telly you lost her dress so you can wear it again,” James said, bouncing his brow suggestively.

  “What makes you think I won’t lose it tonight?” I asked, leaning forward, flashing him the goods.

  “Get over here.” He grabbed my stool and scooted it right against his. “Four shots of tequila, please,” James called out to the bartender.

  “Four!” I said. He was serious about getting me drunk.

  “Honey, I don’t think I can take much more of you in that dress. I say we get drunk and get home fast.” He leaned in near my ear. His breath sent a tingle down my neck and I shivered.

  “I’m good with that.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up and he kept his arm around the back of my barstool, caressing my bare shoulder with his fingertips. I put my hand on his leg, giving it a deep massage, inching up little by little, and I could tell he was inching up too. The bartender lined up four shots on the bar top and James dropped some cash in exchange. No bill, no wait.

  James lifted one of the shot glasse
s and I followed. “Cheers,” he said, clinking his tiny glass against mine. We pulled the lime slice off the rims and watched each other shoot down the cold liquid. I made a face and sucked the citrus, then licked the sticky juice off my finger. James’ eyes widened and he made his oh-yeah-baby face. We took a few minutes to recover from the shot and a buzz was already penetrating deep into my veins. It felt good. Relaxed. Free.

  “You know what I wanna do?” I asked.

  He smirked and moved closer. “Me?”

  I was going to say go on a vacation but yeah, I also wanted to do him. “Yes and . . .” I said, grabbing the other shot off the bar. “Finish our drinks.”

  He took the last shot and we threw them back at the same time. By now my whole body buzzed and I didn’t know if it was because of him or the alcohol. I finished sucking the life out of my slice of lime and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. James and I stared into each other’s eyes like we could read each other’s mind. Before I knew it, we were locked at the mouth like a couple of horny college kids, which was exactly how I felt.

  “Mmm,” I moaned, my finger teasing the button on his shirt. If we hadn’t been in public, I would’ve ripped it open. “We should go.”

  “Yeah,” he said, breathless.

  I hopped off my seat and he lowered his legs to the ground then recoiled back to the barstool.

  “Why don’t I meet you at the door. I think I need a minute,” James said, his hand over his lap.

  I snickered. How cute was it that I gave my thirty-seven-year-old husband a boner at a bar? But honestly, if I were a guy, I’d have a full hard-on too. A few minutes later, he met me at the door and we trekked the five blocks home. He could not keep his hands away from my behind and I kept telling him to wait until we got home, but then I slid my hand down the front of his body when no one was around.

  Finally, we made it back to our place, but before he opened the door, he had me pressed against it, kissing me like he hadn’t seen me in a decade. James’ hand ran up my thigh and he started inching my lacy thong downward.

 

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