Things we do for love

I feel a tremble race down my spine and internally scold myself at the idea of having even a flash of excitement. I stare at the window on the little white stick and pray for those two little pink lines to appear. I know that staring at it won’t make it happen any faster. I put it down next to the basin and take a breath and step away.

“Please,” I whisper. “Please let this be the one.” I thought about the cute pregnancy shirts I had in one of my online shopping carts but had not been able to check out yet. I pace the few short steps from one end of the room to the other. I breathe deeply and manage to get the courage to open my eyes and have a look. I pick it up and just one ugly little line stares back at me. I squint and hold the thing I peed on closer to my face than I should just to be sure there wasn’t a faint second line. I sigh and toss the stick in the bin.

I curl up on the couch with a blanket and scroll through social media. Another couple has bought a house, someone else is engaged and happy couple after happy couple announcing pregnancies and births. Absent minded I add my congratulations to the ever-growing list of comments. Time to start another month of medications and needles and tests and waiting. God the never-ending waiting. It was driving me insane.

Before I knew it, my husband was kissing me on the forehead waking me up. Scared the life out of me and lucky I didn’t knock a few teeth out of his head.

“You okay?” he asked concerned as he brushed the back of his hand across my forehead.

“Yeah I’m okay,” I told him. “Just sleepy.” The same lie I had been telling him for 3 years.

“Did you get your iron checked?” he asked.

“Yeah I will get onto it,” I lied again. I just couldn’t find the words to tell him how upset I was. How every baby or pregnant woman I saw made my stomach tie up in knots. That every friend’s newborn I held made me want to sprint to my car with them and drive off into the sunset. That every negative test was like a punch to the heart. That every test we had that came back that “everything was ok” was just starting to infuriate me. It’s been 3 years doctors there must be something not working. All I want is answers.

“Okay babe. What do you want for dinner?” he asked.

“I don’t mind babe whatever you want,” I told him.

“But you look sad so whatever you want,” he told me. This routine went on for almost 20 minutes before we both gave up and ordered a pizza. Alright that’s a lie. We got 2 pizzas. One pizza each. We should be the size of a house I thought to myself as I reached down for another piece only to find the box was empty.

The days and weeks started to blur into each other again. Before I knew it, we were 3.5 years into trying and I was tired and defeated.

“I’m done with it,” I told my husband.

“I know,” he told me. “I was done 8 months ago. I was happy to keep going as long as you wanted.”

Then the dam wall burst and all the sadness I had been holding in for so long just came flooding out. My body shook with sobs and all the while he sat there and stoked my hair and held me close. When I was finally able to get some words out and I hope he was able to understand them I muttered “I love you so much.”

We stopped the tests, we stopped going to the doctors, I stopped tracking my cycle and doing ovulation tests and eating all the things people said and taking the medications. We just focused on doing things we wanted to do. We finally lost all the stress that had been surrounding us. Plus, we had a few extra dollars in the bank from cutting back on all the appointments. We seemed to re-enter the newlywed stage of our relationship. We had fun for the first time in a long time.

Over time we investigated the foster care system and the adoption process but our countries rules made it near impossible to do either. I threw myself into work and managed a career change to something I was interested in rather than sitting at a computer all day.

We started going well as a couple and got some savings together made ourselves happier with our lives and what we were doing with them. But there was always that twinge of pain whenever I saw a pregnancy or birth announcement.

One day I was out at the shops with my best friend and her two little ones. There were running around like crazy and kept me on my toes.

“You’re so lucky,” she told me. I tried to laugh it off but she knew better. “Dammit I am sorry I didn’t mean it like that. They’ve just been crazy this week. You would be such a good mum. This sucks.”

“I am a little lucky I get to fun time with these two then I get to leave,” I laughed as I proceeded to give them each a lolly. My friend glared at me playfully.

“Great get them all hyped up on sugar,” she groaned. I laughed at her. The proceeded to chase the two small children down the supermarket aisle. “You’re the worst,” she cried after me also laughing.

“I’m gunna get you,” I laughed at the children as I started to chase them with hands outstretched to tickle the first one I caught. They squealed and took off.

Then out of nowhere I vomited. In the middle of the canned vegetable section.

“Oh my God are you ok?” my friend asked.

“Quick let’s run,” I joked. “Maybe they will think someone dropped a can of soup.”

“Gross,” she laughed. I found someone who worked in the store and of course blamed the kids. Raced my way to the toilet and vomited again.

“You should probably go home you don’t look so good,” she told me. “Maybe you’re just preg…” then she stopped herself before finishing the sentence. “Oh, dammit I am the worst sorry I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” I told her. We found a bench so I could sit for a bit until I felt the next vomit coming on. I had missed a few cycles recently but just assumed that I was just getting early menopause because nothing was working anyway. The cubicle I entered of course had no toilet paper. So, I fished around in my abyss of a bag for some tissues and my hand brushed on one of those familiar sticks I had kept in there for emergencies. After a few minutes that felt like forever I finally had my answer.

“Are you okay in there?” my friend called out.

“Yes, everything is fine,” I called out. I washed my hands thoroughly and exited the toilets and smiled at her.

“Why are you smiling so creepy?” she asked.

“Can you keep a secret?”