Instead, I will focus on teaching and learning. There will be time for babies, but it isn’t now.
I could return the ovulation computer. We could use the money. By the time Imight use it, the little sticks that go inside would be expired.
But I can’t quite do it. I need to keep this hope in my house.
I bend down to peer into the cabinet. In the very back are things we rarely use. Old towels. An electric razor that doesn’t hold a charge. Pink sponge rollers my mother insisted I should keep.
I shove the box to the back with those items. Gavin said he would get anew job in a year. By then, I’d be an adjunct professor working on my Ph.D. We’d both make real money, get out of debt.
Everything was working out.
A family could wait.