I fought back tears when I saw the spots of blood that heralded the onset of my period. Despite the increased use of fertility drugs, I was not going to be a mother this month.
I crawled back into bed with my husband Todd, waking him to cuddle with him. Sunlight shone through the blinds.
"What time is it?" he asked with a start. I sniffled in response. "What's wrong?"
I broke down in tears. "My period started," I cried.
"Oh Liv," he soothed, wrapping an arm around me. "Don't worry, the doctor said these things take some time."
"It's been seven months already!" I wailed. "The drugs aren't working!"
"Well, make another appointment," he said with a yawn. "Maybe you need a different kind of drug."
"All the drugs in the world aren't going to increase your sperm count, Todd," I said shortly. "Can't we look into in-vitro?"
He rose up on his elbow. "We've been over this, Olivia. We can't afford in-vitro. Our insurance covers the fertility drugs, just give it some more time. We can look into other options once I get that promotion."
"That could be a year from now!" I paused, hesitant to raise the issue again, but said softly, "We could adopt."
He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I don't want to raise someone else's baby, Liv. You know those 'adoptable' babies are all born addicted to crack and – and have AIDS and stuff."
I continued to cry softly as all avenues to motherhood were closed to me. It seemed I would never have a baby, and I felt bereft.
Todd jumped up out of bed and began to dress. "Sorry hun, but I have a tee time with the guys at 10."
I stared incredulously at him. "How can you leave when I'm a wreck like this?"
"Honey, you're just a little hormonal because of the drugs," he said patronizingly, his back to me as he put on his polo shirt. "Go back to sleep for a bit, you'll feel better when you get up." He didn't even glance up at me as he finished dressing.
"But, Todd..."
"Sorry, hun, I'm already running late." He leaned down to give me a quick kiss on my tear-stained cheek. "I'll be home in a few hours. Get some rest."
Feeling more alone than ever, I curled around my pillow and cried myself back to sleep.
The following week passed uneventfully, but his Todd's unsupportive reactions had left me feeling alienated. He was oblivious, blaming my poor mood on my fluctuating hormones. But we were approaching my fertile window, so I became determined to rectify the status quo. I traded schedules with another nurse at the hospital in the hopes that some intimate time with my husband would not only thaw the chill, but also achieve our goal of finally starting a family.
I decided to surprise Todd with my shift change. He came home late, as he often did, to find me reclined on the living room sofa in sexy lingerie.
"Liv! What - uh, what are you doing home?"
I rose from the sofa, gliding across the floor in heels and thigh-highs, to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.
"I traded shifts so we could have some you-and-me time." His eyes brightened, and he kissed me deeply and passionately. Maybe it was the fertility drugs, or the fact I was indeed entering my fertile window, but within moments I was on fire and aching to have him inside me.
"I've wanted you so badly these last few days," I whispered. "Let's make love and see if our luck improves this month."
He paused and pulled back. "Oh, you're, uh, ovulating right now?"
I blinked. "Yes - but don't think of this as 'baby-making sex', all mechanical and goal-oriented. Let's just make love like we used to, and whatever happens happens."
He smiled down at me. "Look at you, you're so sexy in your outfit. You put so much effort into tonight, I want it to be special too." He put his hands on my shoulders and said, "Tell you what, let me go take a shower. I stink of office sweat. Then I'll come into the bedroom and make love to you all night long."
I grinned, kissing him deeply. "I'll wait for you in the bedroom."
I went to our bedroom, lit some candles, and lay on the bed, the lull of the shower humming from down the hallway. I felt the effect of the shift change on me, and a yawn escaped my lips. No matter, I could hold out a few minutes, then Todd would easily keep me awake into the night. But five minutes grew into ten, then fifteen. I closed my eyes for just a moment.
When I woke it was 7 a.m. I still wore my sexy lingerie. Todd had long since left for work. Damn.
I showered, intensely aware of my body's fertility. These same changes had arisen every month since I began the fertility drugs. Intense horniness, hard tight nipples that could cut glass, and a pussy that dripped wetness at the drop of a hat. I carried a perpetual flush and glow on my cheeks for several days during my peak fertility, noticeable enough that my co-workers had asked more than once if I was already pregnant. I masturbated quickly in the shower to take the edge off, painfully aware of how temporary that solution really was.
When I stepped from the shower, my cell phone beeped with a text message from Todd. "Forgot, cocktail party tonight at boss house, pick you up 7pm." I sighed, exasperated. No lovemaking last night, and now there was another convenient obstacle to our lovemaking tonight. My womb ached for a baby, and I had to make nice at a stupid cocktail party.
I worked my shift at the hospital, irritable about the upcoming cocktail party in my hormonal state. To add insult to injury, my shift trade was in pediatrics instead of my usual ICU. Surrounded by children, I felt a hollow ache and a despair that I would never become a mother.
Well-meaning co-workers asked softly how "The Quest" as they called it was going. I did at times feel like some kind of crusading warrior, on the path to the holy shrine of motherhood. Alas, no progress thus far, or perhaps at all this month.
That evening I showered and dressed for the cocktail party. At 6:30 I received a text from Todd, "running late, eta 720" I sighed again, my irritation level escalating rapidly. I decided to check into the online forums for expectant moms, only to remember that my laptop was in the shop. Grrr! I saw red for a moment, and took a deep breath. Damn hormones. Well I could at least use Todd's computer in his office.
I logged onto his computer to see a slew of IMs from yahoo messenger. Now, I'm not one to snoop, but they were all piled up there on his desktop. Most were spam, but not all. I got those too when I forgot to log out, but I was determined not to pry. I trusted my husband.
I clicked the address bar and deleted its contents, ready to type in the address for the pregnancy forum, when the drop-down history appeared. I glanced over the addresses. Gmail, Amazon, Facebook. Then something with "dad" in the url. Touched that Todd was so determined to be a dad that he was doing research on his own, I clicked into it. The happy feeling disappeared quickly when I read the title of the article: "10 Great Ways to Lower Your Sperm Count."
A wave of nausea hit me as I skimmed through the article, which recommended obesity, smoking, hot tubs, and tightey-whiteys as methods to lower a man's sperm count. With trembling hands, I clicked into his browser history which he had not cleared in weeks. Countless porn sites, some several times a day and many in the middle of the night. No wonder he never wanted to make love anymore. And of course, by constantly draining the tank, he virtually guaranteed he would never father any babies. I wondered if his sperm count was naturally low or if he had fooled the doctors as well with his deceptive tactics.
Tears of rage filled my eyes as I realized my loving husband had taken every precaution to avoid becoming a father. Months of despair and anguish, the roller coaster of hormones and mood swings, and all for naught! I could have screamed. I viewed the screen through blurry tears, but I fought them back. I'd put on my brave face tonight for the cocktail party, but I knew in that instant there was no future for me with a man who didn't want a family as much as I did.
Just then, an IM popped up from "Jessica", aka "nobabymama24" that read, "still dodging the bullet?"
