It’s 6pm when I get home from work and you are curled up in our bed sleeping.  Your brow is furrowed, worrying even in your sleep.  I know it means yet another in a long string of rejections.  For 30 seconds I debate waking you but it’s too early in the evening to be asleep. So I touch your shoulder, hoping that it will be easier to mourn in the daylight than to wake at 3am only to mourn alone in the darkness.  

“Hey sweetheart.  Feeling tired?”  

“Yeah.  It’s been a long week.”

I nod, “Is that all?”

“The letter came today.  No second interview.” A Pause.  “I feel like I’ve been blacklisted.”  

“I know.  That’s not true, though.”  

“I’m sorry baby.”

“Me too.” 

Dinner is cupcakes followed by burgers and beer.  It doesn’t stop the wondering, but the beer creates a comfortable haze that makes it easier to look out on the world.  We are facing the street silently drinking when I see a couple crossing the road.  He is as gangly and awkward as she is petite and beautiful.  She pushes the baby carriage that carries a perfect sleeping miniature of the two of them.  I wonder if the child will grow up to be somehow gangly and petite.  Is that possible?  Then I wonder, what would it be like to look at your child and see your lover’s smile?  

Our first consultation at the fertility clinic is scheduled for one week from today.  After our perfectly wonderful and very frugal wedding we have exactly enough money for one try.  We know it is unlikely, but my family is ridiculously fertile so we have been hopeful.  My HSA has enough money to get us through most of the fees for doctors visits and childbirth if we are lucky enough to get pregnant.  I have no idea how we would pay for the second parent adoption.

But, if there is no job when KK’s internship ends in August that same amount of money will keep us on our feet for 3 months while she searches.  How do you make such a choice?

 


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