The Mother's Promise(16)
Three years later, when despite their best efforts a baby hadn’t been conceived, it made sense that he should be the one to be tested. He’d had a testicle removed, but the test showed that the other one was performing well. Above average even. And so it followed that the problem must be hers.
She had ultrasounds. Laparoscopies. Dye injected into her fallopian tubes and followed on a screen. Test after test came back normal. Which left them with …
Unexplained infertility. The treatment prescribed: IVF.
Kate knew that David wasn’t thrilled by the prospect. But once they got through the first couple of squeamish appointments, it actually brought them closer. Every night, at the same time, he’d inject her with drugs (including one night at a country wedding when the pair of them had to shimmy into a portable toilet to get it done). It wasn’t a wonderful time by any stretch, but it was a close time in their relationship. As though they shared a secret.
When they got the call, they drove to the clinic to harvest Kate’s eggs. Even the word “harvest” hadn’t been enough to rain on Kate’s parade.
“Harvest my eggs!” she’d exclaimed on the road.
“Yeah, baby!” David sang. “Harvest my wife.”
David’s contribution had to be made eighteen hours later. Like everything to do with IVF, it was time-sensitive, but he wanted to do it at home rather than in a magazine-filled cubicle at the clinic. Kate liked the idea. Their baby could still be conceived as an act of love, an act of passion. She lit a candle, put on some music, and made sure it would memorable. But despite their best efforts, only one embryo was fertilized. An embryo that wasn’t to be.
The second time, when it was time for David’s contribution, they didn’t bother with a candle. Again, only one embryo was created. And failed to thrive.
The third time, Kate was distracted. It wasn’t happening for David, and time was of the essence.
“David, can you just…” She glanced at the clock. “I mean, why don’t we try—”
“Jesus, Kate,” he’d said, pushing her off him. “Just … can you just let me do this? I’ll be out in a minute.”
In the living room, Kate waited on the edge of the sofa. Then they drove to the clinic in silence.
With hindsight, she should have known this baby would be doomed. Conceived by a frozen egg and a reluctant sperm. What hope had this poor baby ever had?
Now, she squeezed his hand. “It will work next time,” she said with a breeziness that she recognized sounded plain wrong in this setting. David didn’t reply. He looked spent. Normally she only noticed his age in terms of how distinguished it made him, but today he looked old.
“Right?” she pressed.
He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s not worry about that just now, okay, babe? Let’s just take care of you.”
“But it will work. Next time. Won’t it?”
She heard the crazy in her voice. But you were allowed to be crazy in the face of tragedy, weren’t you? People made allowances for it.
David stood. “Can you walk or do you want me to get you a wheelchair?”
“David.”
He dropped his gaze. “Let’s not talk about it now,” he said, and Kate felt her heart splinter.
“Katie.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I don’t want to see you like this. That’s why I think…”
“Stop,” she said into his chest. “Don’t say it. I can’t handle you saying it.”
“Okay,” he said quietly, kissing her forehead. “I won’t. Shhh. I won’t say it.”
But as Kate sobbed into her husband’s chest she realized he already had.
11
You know that dream people always talked about—the one about going to school naked? Zoe had never had it. Ironic, right? The sad truth was, Zoe’s subconscious never needed to go that far. In Zoe’s anxiety dreams she walked the hallway fully dressed. People stood around, at their lockers or in groups, glancing at her—checking out her giant forehead or last season’s sneakers and laughing. This dream always had her jerking awake, drenched in sweat, her heart thundering. And the worst thing about it was, her anxiety dream was also her reality.
It was 8:00 P.M. on Saturday, and Zoe was outside the movie theater in Redwood City, which was nothing short of a miracle. People walked by, glancing at her and then quickly away. Under their brief gaze, Zoe felt bigger than she actually was. Freakishly big, like a kite puppet on a freeway, bobbing and waving in the wind. What was she doing here? Like a fool she’d told herself she’d be able to do this.
I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me. The words came at her suddenly. They were from The Outsiders. They were studying the novel this year in English and Zoe had never found so much truth between two covers.
Emily had offered to give her a ride but Zoe had made an excuse about needing to finish her math project, and Emily was too caught up in the prospect of a date with Cameron to notice how unlikely that actually was. Only an hour ago Zoe still didn’t know if she was going to do this. Even if it wasn’t for the date thing, movie theaters terrified her, almost as much as the school cafeteria. The airlessness, the artificial light, the people (mostly the people).
Through the glass doors, Zoe could see that the foyer was full. There must have been a kids’ movie about to start, because the place was full of moms with kids ranging from ages three to ten, and the floor was sticky and dotted with popcorn. A kid had dropped his drink and an employee had erected a CAUTION: WET FLOOR sign while he mopped it up. This created a bowl-like opening in the wall of people, and through it, from behind the pole where she stood, Zoe could see Emily, Cameron, and Seth.