Speaking from experience, back when I still thought we could conceive normally, I can tell you that it quickly destroys your sex life – and peace of mind – trying to have sex by the clock each month to have a child. Maybe you can do it less … strained. But as time wears on and if you feel you are already ‘behind’ … well, that’s just not going to end good.
So my friends, MN and L, made, as far as I can tell (I have never asked directly), a measured choice: Live their lives and see what happens, even if chances diminish the more time passes. Even if 3 months pass and they don’t have sex at the right dates, I suppose. Or a year. Or …
I’m pretty sure that’s the deal they have come up with, no matter how hard that choice was.
So I see the uncertainty in their eyes when they see Jay, hold him, smile at him: “What’s going to happen for us? Did we make the right choice?”
I did see that today. No surprise, but still …
For I was afraid, I’d not see happiness – for us. Deep and honest happiness.
But I did see that.
I was afraid I would see too much doubt, when their own pain clouded things too much, and it would hurt me – and Char – too, even if understandable.
But I saw nothing like that.
I saw a glimmer of sadness and of that pain, later when we walked home and talked about a extra room they are building in their house and what it might be used for. Guests or …
But I never saw their honest sadness at their own situation overshadow their happiness for our situation. Not once.
I may be imagining things, but I really felt it energized them to see Jay – gave them some of that undefinable happiness, too, that babies tend shine into the hearts of people, even if they are not your own.
I really felt that. I hope that it was so.
Which means, I guess, that the most precious thing is still more than intact – our friendship.