Page 48 of Deprived No More

God, this is getting us nowhere. Turning completely in my seat so I’m facing her, I try again to reach out, stroking her arm. “Baby, please talk to me. I’m sorry. That guy pushes all of my buttons. The absolute last thing I expected was to see him with you. But I know you have to work with him too, so I’ll control my temper. And I’m sorry for the way I reacted over the phone. I wasn’t prepared for that. It’s been a tense few days. I knew you were keeping something from me but had no idea this was what was on your mind.”

She looks down into her lap, the tears have slowed, but they keep coming.

“Kitten. I love you. I’ve just felt like one-day things are good, and the next, I don’t know what is happening with us. The very last thing we need is another baby.”

“Sure. You’re right.” She continues to sniffle. “I’m probably just going through a midlife crisis.”

I watch as she toys with her shirtsleeve. Unsure whether to speak or let her continue. “I’m going to call Dr. Miller. This has just done a number on me.”

“Kat? Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Why should I have? I knew this was the way you’d react. I figured I’d delay hearing your answer if I put it off. I’m a good mother. In my eyes, it wouldn’t be any different with five than four. I could cut back even more at work. Or quit altogether. We could get some help. I can’t help wanting a chance at a baby with your eyes and smile.” A sob breaks through with her last word, and I have to sit further back in my seat.

“Kat, you know that’s not possible.”

She doesn’t say anything, just continues to sniffle. Then it hits me. “You want to find a surrogate after all this time?”

“Or maybe try embryo transfer. If there’s a successful embryo with a donor egg, I don’t need ovaries to carry a pregnancy to term.”

I look at her, completely stunned. Where is this coming from after all of these years? “Babe. This is risky. We have a beautiful family. We’ve been lucky to have happy, healthy, well-adjusted children. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then I know we gave it our best shot,” she almost whispers, dabbing at her cheeks.

“I think we need to be grateful for what we ha-”

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Grabbing for my phone, I realize it’s the office. Either my patients are wondering where the hell I am, or Holden has gone to Allison, the office manager. Either way, I can’t continue to have this conversation right now.

“Kat. I need to get back inside. Can we talk about this later?”

“Not sure what there is to talk about. Is there any chance you’ll change your mind?” she asks, finally turning to connect her red, swollen eyes with mine.

“No.”

Kat

Driving home, I decide to put off calling Dr. Miller’s office until I’m no longer behind the wheel of a car. I feel as if I’ve gone twelve rounds in a boxing match. I knew this would be the outcome. I just didn’t expect it would be quite so explosive.

I should’ve been ready for his answer, even the lack of eloquence. I am grateful for what we have. But why is it wrong to want more? We have the means to do this. We can’t be the only couple with infertility who kept trying until it’s no longer feasible.

The closer I get to home, the angrier I begin to feel. I know we’re a couple, andweneed to make this decision together. Yet I didn’t feel he listened. He’d already decided.Hemade the decision. He’s probably more worried about not getting sex on the regular than how important this is to me. Does he think I’m not a good mother? That I can’t handle this? There are plenty of families with five kids.

My tears have stopped, and now I’m just pissed. I’m going through these stages of grief like it’s an Olympic sport. I’m so worked up recalling his over-the-top reaction to Holden after his ‘What the fuck? Have you lost your mind?’ reaction. And he thought Holden was the bad guy?

Slowing down my speed, I try to put on some calming music. I don’t need to leave him to raise ourfourkids alone by getting myself killed driving erratically. A recognizable tune begins on the radio, and the tears begin to fall again as Unstoppable by Sia starts to play. It’s hard to feel unstoppable when life feels out of control. When it seems others are making the decisions for you.

Pulling into the drive, I have several hours before the kids have to be picked up. I decide to head inside and make the call before I do anything else. I’m shocked to hear Dr. Miller’s office say they can squeeze me in this week. I haven’t seen him in years. I assumed it’d be like starting over with a new primary care doctor. You go too long without seeing them, and it can take months to get an appointment.

I feel a little less uneasy, knowing the appointment is near. Grabbing a cup of tea and my heavy throw from the couch, I make my way down to the seating area along the water’s edge. The leaves haven’t fallen from the trees yet. It feels comforting to relax amongst the swaying evergreens and deciduous maple trees in this covered space. Just me and mother nature. She’s probably the next best therapy to Dr. Miller. I bet she’ll be a little more understanding to my plight than my husband was.

Watching as birds swoop down toward the rippled water and flat-bottomed fishing boats bounce along the surface, I sip from my still steaming mug of herbal tea and ease into tranquility. Iamgrateful for what I already have. I’m a great mother and have been blessed with amazing kids, a wonderful home, and a husband who loves me. I’ve made it through some incredibly stressful times and have more than I imagined I ever would.

Could my reactions be overdramatized because I’m still dealing with seeing Mark the other day? Am I in an emotionally turbulent place and just unable to let go? Or is this simply about finally realizing this part of my life is over? I’m sure many women suffer this when they approach menopause. Mine just came early, given the loss of my only remaining ovary at age twenty-nine.

Or is it the lack of control?

I was gentle with Nick when I could see that’s what he was struggling with. I’d gone out of my way to provide a delectable opportunity to give him the control he seemed to crave, not that I minded that evening one bit.

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