Mother's Day by Lynne Constantine Page A

then watched old movies in bed until she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder. It got worse with each failed cycle. Why wasn’t it working? She was doing everything right – taking all her shots, avoiding toxins, obeying every rule – yet still nothing. Then came the fourth cycle. She felt different this time. Her breasts were sore, the sensation in her body slightly off. Despite the little voice telling her not to get excited, she allowed herself to hope.
    The morning the call was to come she saw the blood first. Her stomach plummeted and she put her head in her hands and cried. And cried. And cried. She hadn’t known it possible to feel this empty – her arms ached to hold a child of her own. Daniel knew it was bad when she wouldn’t answer her phone all day. He came home to a dark house – her sitting in the living room, staring at nothing.
    “I’m so sorry, honey.”
    “Me too.”
    He turned the light on and she flinched from the brightness.
    “Turn it off.”
    “Miranda. Come on, you can’t just sit here in the dark.”
    She didn’t look up. “Turn it off. It hurts my eyes.”
    He sighed, flipped the switch, and left.
    She stayed that way until midnight. He was still awake when she came to bed.
    “Maybe we should take a break.”
    “What?” She glared at him.
    “It’s really getting you down and you’re exhausted. Just take a little time off.”
    She could feel herself getting hot and rage enveloping her.
    “Take a break? Take a break?” Her voice became shrill. “Are you kidding me? We don’t have time to take a break. Every month that passes, I’m another month older, my eggs are a little less viable. I will never give up.”
    He sighed. “Miranda, I’m not suggesting we give up. I’m only talking about a month or two. Just a breather from the constant doctor’s appointments, the drugs.” He hesitated. “The disappointment.”
    “I don’t need a break. I need a supportive husband.”
    His face turned red. “I’ve been nothing but supportive. This whole thing has taken over our lives and I’ve done everything you’ve asked. What if I need to take a break?”
    “What do you need a break from? All you have to do is go into a room with some magazines and a plastic cup.” She snorted. “You’re not the one with the needles and the blood tests and the bloating and the mood swings.”
    Even when she saw the look of shock and dismay on his face it didn’t slow her down. Her fury had the force of a runaway train.
    “You have the easy part. You should appreciate how hard I’m working to make us a family.”
    “All I have to do is go into a room? Are you kidding me? I feel like nothing more than a sperm donor. We haven’t made love in months. I’m afraid to come anywhere near you. I never know who I’m coming home to – depressed Miranda, angry Miranda, or maybe bitter Miranda.” His voice rose. “But never the Miranda I married. What happened to her? The Miranda who cared about me? This obsession with a baby has turned our lives upside down. Not to mention our finances. There are two of us here, remember? It’s not just all about you. Don’t you think it hurts me too? Magazines and a plastic cup? Maybe I’ll just refuse to produce next time.”
    “Don’t you dare threaten me. It doesn’t sound to me like you care if we have a baby or not. Do you know how hard this is for me? Everyone in your family looking at me like I’ve ruined your life. It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
    “What are you talking about? No one thinks you’ve ruined my life. That’s all in your head.”
    “Oh, so now I’m crazy too? Why not? Blame everything on me. Everything’s my fault anyway.” She began to cry. “Defective eggs. It even sounds ridiculous. You should have married someone else - someone with a normal body - a working body. Someone who could give you the live you deserve.”
    She collapsed on the bed, gasping, her shoulders shaking with each sob.
    “I don’t want