Chasing Someday

by Lindzee Armstrong

  “I came to be with you.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but Dr. Blakely entered the room.

  The exam only took a few minutes, but was surprisingly painful.

  “Does that hurt?” Dr. Blakely asked in concern as she did a pap smear.

  “A little,” Christina admitted. A lot.

  “You can sit up now,” Dr. Blakely said. “Get dressed, and I’ll meet you in my office so we can talk.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Gary said as she shut the door.

  Christina pulled her skirt on. “Let’s get back to the office so we can find out.”

  They only had to wait a minute or two for Dr. Blakely. “Well,” she said, sitting down at her desk. “I’m ninety-five percent sure you have endometriosis.”

  The pronouncement took Christina’s breath away. She hadn’t expected to know anything definitive today. “I thought you said you can’t tell through an exam.”

  “We usually can’t, and I’m still not one hundred percent certain. Typically endometriosis isn’t found on the cervix, but I think there is some on yours.”

  It felt like a death sentence. Would their dreams of having a family—Christina’s dreams—be over before they’d even really begun? Would fertility treatments even work?

  Maybe Gary would get his way by default.

  “Since you can feel it, does that mean it’s really severe?” Christina asked. Gary’s icy cold fingers found hers. His face was drawn, the color drained away.

  “Not necessarily,” Dr. Blakely said. “Endometriosis is an odd disease. How painful a woman’s periods are, for example, is not an indication of how severe the problem is. Nor is the placement of the endometriosis.”

  “How do you fix it?” Christina asked.

  “There’s no cure. Birth control can help lessen the problem, but that’s not a long-term solution if you’re trying to get pregnant. Sometimes I’ll prescribe birth control for a few months to give the scar tissue a chance to heal, and that helps. Surgery often helps as well because I can usually clean out some of the scar tissue.”

  “But I was on birth control for four years,” Christina said. “And you still think I might have it.”

  Dr. Blakely shrugged. “Like I said, it doesn’t ever go away.”

  “So where do we go from here?” Gary asked.

  “It depends on what your goal is. If you want to manage the symptoms, going back on birth control will probably help. But if your goal is to have a family, I recommend we do a semen analysis to rule out male factor infertility and get an HSG test for Christina.”

  It had been like pulling teeth to get Gary to agree to the appointment with the gynecologist. How on earth would Christina convince him to do a semen analysis? To let her do the HSG test? That was clearly for fertility, not her health.

  “What’s an HSG?” Gary asked quietly. Christina whipped around to look at him. His face was drawn, his eyes resolute.

  Oh my gosh. He wanted to do the testing.

  “It stands for hysterosalpingogram,” Dr. Blakely said. “We shoot dye through a catheter into the uterus and watch on an x-ray machine to see if the dye spills out the fallopian tubes.”

  “And what does that tell us?” Christina asked.

  “If your tubes are blocked. If they aren’t, I doubt endometriosis is why you aren’t getting pregnant, and maybe we just need to help you ovulate with Clomid. If they are blocked, obviously that’s a problem with your reproductive health, and we’d go from there. But let’s wait until we get the results of the test before worrying any more than necessary.”

  Back at the front desk, Gary stood silently beside Christina as she scheduled the HSG test and a follow-up appointment to discuss the results. As they walked outside, he took her hand. She pulled away, but he grabbed her hand again and held on.

  “Let’s go to dinner,” he said. “Your pick.”

  “I thought you had paperwork,” she said, making her tone snippy.

  “It can wait.”

  “I’m not really hungry.”

  “We need to talk.”

  She spitefully suggested a Mexican restaurant she loved and Gary didn’t, and he agreed to meet her there. It wasn’t until they were seated at the table and had ordered that Gary spoke.

  “I shouldn’t have tried to back out of the appointment today. I’m sorry.”

  Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to give them release. “Now my worst fears have been realized. Congratulations, I’m infertile. We probably won’t get a baby.”

  “Don’t say that. I know I’m ready to be a dad, but that doesn’t mean I won’t ever be ready. I’m sorry for not being there for you.”

  The tears fell, and she let them. “You really hurt my feelings. I needed you at that appointment, and you made up some excuse so you wouldn’t have to show.”

  “It wasn’t an excuse. I do have a stack of paperwork I need to get through tonight.”

  “You put it off for dinner.”

  He shifted in his seat. “Yes.”

  Christina leaned back against the booth, arms folded tight across her chest. “Once again, work comes first.”

  “I recognized my mistake and fixed it. I’m apologizing. Doesn’t that count for something?”

  He was trying. She should meet him halfway. Christina released a breath. “Maybe. This is all so shocking. I don’t know how to react. How to feel.”

  “Me either. They say ignorance is bliss.”

  “Oh, so you don’t want to find out for sure. Then why let me schedule the HSG?”

  “I do want children. And I want them with you. We can figure out the problem so we’re prepared to fix it when the time comes. We’re in this together. I can’t promise I’ll be a perfect support, but I can promise to work on it. Let’s do the testing.” His eyes were sincere, his voice pleading.

  He was facing his fears, putting them aside for Christina and their marriage. It was time she did the same. If they were going to make this work, she had to start trusting him. “You had better mean that, Garrison. Because I can’t handle this alone.”

  “You shouldn’t have to. You won’t have to. I know I have a lot of concerns over being a dad. But I’m trying to get past them. Help me be ready, Christina.”

  She impulsively leaned across the table and kissed him. “Okay. I’m taking a chance here, Gar. Don’t you dare let me down. We’re finally making progress, and I won’t ruin it if you won’t.”

  Gary half-laughed, half-sobbed. “Deal.”

  David and Kyra continued to pray about and discuss doing another IUI, and it felt right. When Kyra’s period started four weeks after her miscarriage, she called the fertility clinic and picked up another prescription for Clomid.

  Taking it felt like being pregnant, only without the baby. Last time, the side effects had caused a twinge of sadness. This time, so soon after her miscarriage, the physical reminders were agony.

  The nausea showed up first, feeling exactly like first-trimester morning sickness. The hot flashes came next, and Kyra wondered if her body was trying to ovulate, or if it was being thrust into early menopause.

  Her hormones were every bit as erratic as during pregnancy. Normal Kyra would never have come home from grocery shopping to find dinner dishes still in the sink and lost it. Normal Kyra wouldn’t have yelled at her husband for five minutes, then left the house in an angry fit, only to return two hours later bawling.

  Clomid Kyra did all those things. She had never felt so out of control in her life.

  On day five, she took the final pill with relief. No more! she thought. I’ll feel better tomorrow.

  But it took nearly a week for the symptoms to disappear. That was new. The first time it had been almost immediate. Kyra didn’t know if her hormones were still crazy from the miscarriage, or if the side effects of Clomid would increase each month she took it. The morning of her mid-cycle ultrasound, she prayed she’d never have to take it again.

  Sophie sat in a chair and
played quietly with her doll while Kyra perched on the exam table. They waited nearly fifteen minutes for Dr. Mendoza while Kyra bit her nails to stubs.

  Dr. Mendoza finally walked into the room, and Kyra dropped her hands to the crinkly paper of the exam table.

  “Hi!” Sophie said.

  “Well, look at you. Did you get to come with your mommy again?” Dr. Mendoza asked.

  Sophie nodded. “My baby brother went to live with God.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Malachi doesn’t have a puppy.”

  “Who’s Malachi?” Dr. Mendoza asked.

  “Sophie’s friend,” Kyra said. “He lives next door.”

  “Good to know.” Dr. Mendoza sat on the stool and fiddled with the ultrasound machine. “I’m going to look in your mommy’s tummy now.”

  Sophie nodded. “If I’m good, I get to play at the park.”

  “Wow, you’ve got a really nice mommy. Let’s see how you’re doing, Kyra.”

  Dr. Mendoza stared at the ultrasound screen. Kyra looked as well, her heart in her throat. She should be hearing her baby’s heartbeat, not looking for a follicle. All she needed was one egg on her ovary, ready to drop. Please let there be a follicle, please let there be a follicle, please let there be a—

  “You’ve got a beautiful follicle on your left ovary.”

  Kyra let out a whoosh of air, and her knees trembled with relief. Tears pricked at her eyes. Thank you, she prayed. Even though she’d responded well to Clomid last time, she’d still worried.

  Dr. Mendoza moved to the right ovary and pushed some more buttons on the screen. “And you have two follicles on your right ovary ready as well.”

  Now Kyra wanted to cry with joy.

  Dr. Mendoza removed the ultrasound probe, and Kyra sat up. “Three follicles set to release. That’s fantastic. We only got two last time, didn’t we? You respond well to Clomid.”

  “I’m three,” Sophie piped up. Dr. Mendoza chuckled.

  “That’s great news,” Kyra said, feeling more confident about spending the money on this IUI. If she’d gotten pregnant last time with two follicles, no way it wouldn’t work with three.

  A nurse waited for Kyra outside the room. “Give yourself the HCG trigger shot at nine p.m. tonight.” She handed Kyra a brown paper sack. “Here’s the container for your husband’s sample. We need it at the office within thirty minutes after collection.” She pulled out a pen, writing on a paper Kyra knew contained a schedule. “Make sure he’s abstained from ejaculation for no more than seventy-two hours, but no less than twenty-four.” It was all information Kyra had heard before, but the nurse was probably required to repeat it. “Today’s Monday. We’ll have your husband drop off his sample at eight in the morning on Wednesday, and we’ll do the IUI at nine. Does that work for you?”

  Butterflies swarmed in Kyra’s stomach. She nodded without even consulting her calendar. She doubted her follicles were willing to wait.

  “Mommy,” Sophie whispered. Kyra squeezed Sophie’s hand to let her know to be quiet for a minute longer.

  “You’ll start progesterone suppositories on Thursday before bed.” The nurse headed over to the check-out counter. “We need to schedule an IUI for nine a.m. on Wednesday,” she told the receptionist. “Do you need anything else, Kyra?”

  “No, I think that will do.” Three follicles!

  “Great. We’ll see you on Wednesday.”

  “Do we get to go to the park now, Mommy?” Sophie asked as they left the clinic, schedule in hand.

  “Yes. You were very good at the doctor’s. Thank you.” It was an unseasonably warm day for March, the kind that meant spring was on the horizon and made anything seemed possible. Kyra felt more alive than she had in a month.

  She wanted to call and tell David about the appointment, but knew he wouldn’t be able to answer his phone. She contented herself with playing at the park with Sophie until it was time to pick him up from work. When David walked out of the building, a huge grin on his face, Kyra’s heart started pounding.

  “Did they hire someone?” she asked as she got out of the car to let him drive.

  David leaned down, giving her an exuberant kiss. “They hired me.”

  “Oh my gosh!” Kyra hugged him. “Are you serious?”

  “What?” Sophie asked from the back seat.

  David smiled so wide Kyra feared it would split his face. “Good news, baby girl. I got a new job.”

  Sophie frowned. “Samantha had to go to Burginia cuz her dad got a job.”

  Kyra shook her head as David pulled out of the parking lot. “Daddy got a promotion. That means he still works at the same place, but he’ll get paid more money now.”

  Sophie’s concern disappeared, and she smiled. “I like today.”

  Kyra squeezed Sophie’s leg. “Me too, Soph. I think this calls for a party.”

  “McDonald’s!” Sophie said.

  Kyra’s breath hitched. Last time they’d gone to McDonald’s was after the ultrasound. “Let’s go to Chick-Fil-A instead.” It was a more expensive fast food restaurant, but they could splurge with the promotion.

  As they drove, David told Kyra all about his new job. The money wasn’t fantastic, but much better than what they currently made. He’d start training for the new position immediately. While Sophie played on the slide, Kyra told David about her doctor’s appointment. Ice cream and a dollar movie completed the evening. They got Sophie to bed just in time for the HCG trigger shot.

  “I can’t believe I got the job,” David said as he watched Kyra draw the saline out of one bottle and dispense it into the bottle of powder. She swirled the contents around until the powder dissolved in the liquid.

  “I’m so proud of you. They would’ve been idiots not to promote you.” Kyra drew back the plunger, drawing all the medicine into the syringe. Then she withdrew the needle from the bottle and switched it out for the much smaller, much less intimidating needle actually used for the shot.

  “This will help us out with money a lot,” David said. “We can even do a few more IUIs if we budget well.”

  Kyra handed David the needle, then pulled up her shirt. With her eyes she drew the imaginary smiley face under her belly button, just as the nurse had directed. Kyra picked out an area without stretch marks and cleaned if off with an alcohol wipe. “We’re not going to need more than one IUI. We’re going to bring home a baby in nine months.” She pointed to her stomach. “Do it right there. Not too fast, but not too slow either, okay?” Last time he had gone painfully slow, but she wouldn’t hurt his feelings by telling him. “Try to not hit a stretch mark. The nurse said that would hurt like heck.”

  David nodded, swallowing hard. He took a deep breath, then plunged the needle into her stomach. Kyra felt the sting but didn’t wince. He pushed the plunger down with agonizing slowness, just like last time. Her hands trembled where they held her shirt. She bit her lip, holding her breath. If she showed any sign of pain, David would feel awful.

  He withdrew the needle and let out a big sigh of relief. Kyra dropped her shirt, resisting the urge to rub the injection site. “Thanks, sweetie. I don’t think I could do that myself.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “I didn’t feel a thing,” Kyra lied. She wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you. Things are turning around for us. I can feel it.”

  He pulled her close and nuzzled her ear. “Does that mean we can continue celebrating?”

  Kyra kissed him in reply.

  Kyra woke up Wednesday feeling excited and anxious.

  “What do you think?” she asked David as she brushed her hair. “I’m so nervous.”

  He pulled the toothbrush out of his mouth. “I think we’re going to make a baby today.”

  “Me too. Good things are happening. It’s our time. I can feel it.” The Lord wouldn’t ask them to suffer another loss, would He?

  Kyra finished getting ready, then got Sophie up. While David took his sample to the clinic, Kyra
fed Sophie breakfast.

  “Why can’t I come today, Mommy?” Sophie asked as she munched on cereal.

  Kyra wasn’t sure how to answer. They felt awkward taking Sophie to this particular appointment. “It might take a while, and we thought you’d have more fun at Mrs. Everhart’s playing with Malachi.”

  At the doctor’s office, Kyra and David waited for what felt like forever before being ushered into an exam room. Kyra waited impatiently on the exam table while David played a game on his phone. When Dr. Mendoza walked in, he stashed his phone in a pocket.

  “Today’s the day,” Dr. Mendoza said. “How do you feel?”

  “Nervous,” Kyra admitted.

  “Don’t be. I really believe last time was an unfortunate fluke and not an indication of other problems. Your chances of success this cycle are excellent.” Dr. Mendoza held an oversized plastic syringe out to them. “I need both of you to verify this is David’s sample.”

  They both read the sticker and agreed it was, and Kyra lay on the table.

  “You had an excellent sperm count again,” Dr. Mendoza said conversationally as she inserted the clamps. Kyra winced, feeling like a wuss. She fought back the nerves that made her want to shiver, trying to hold perfectly still.

  “How excellent?” David asked while Kyra blushed.

  “Eighty-seven million,” Dr. Mendoza said.

  David straightened in his chair and grinned as though pleased with himself. “What’s a normal sperm count?” Apparently he felt more comfortable the second time around, even if Kyra didn’t.

  “Anything over five million,” Dr. Mendoza said. “You’re even up two million from last time. I’m going to insert the catheter now.” Kyra winced again, but a second later Dr. Mendoza said, “All done.”

  Five minutes. That’s how long the procedure took. Five minutes and one thousand dollars.

  Dr. Mendoza pushed a button, and the table reclined so Kyra’s head lay lower than her hips. “Lie here for thirty minutes, and then you can go. I’ll have a nurse knock on the door when you can get up. As far as the rest of the day, normal activity level should be fine. There’s no need to stay down, although it can’t hurt.”