Threshold

Laura strode past her husband as he worked on his putting on the large green mat in the living room. He barely looked up, his focus entirely on the US Open blasting from the TV. It filled the high-ceilinged, empty halls with soft claps, calm commentary, and the chirping of birds (the ones Jack always joked were "piped in.") She guarded the pharmacy bag with her body, though she needn't have bothered; she could rarely rip his attention away from the game, and certainly not this week.

She continued into the immaculate dining room, a room almost never used. It had seen life only once last year, when she’d hosted Easter. She’d dressed the table, ordered outfits and books for her nephews, and played house for a blissful weekend. She had intended to share her big news then, having spent weeks tracking her temperature and cutting every luxury from her diet. It hadn’t happened, but she’d smiled through it anyway. When her sister’s minivan finally pulled away, she had walked back into this same silence, wishing at least that Jack had been home to fill it.

Silence was her nemesis.

Laura locked the powder room door and dropped the pharmacy bag into the wide ceramic sink. She sighed, looking at her reflection. She was hiding in her own home, a stark contrast to the woman her friends and family knew. They still teased her about being "wild about Jack," calling them two teenagers in their thirties, always side-by-side, always in motion.Golfing. Traveling. Their friends said “they have it all.”

They didn't know the truth. She wasn't chasing his adventures; she was running from the silence.

It was a silence that carried weight. It was the absence of sticky fingerprints on the glass, the lack of laughter echoing in the rafters, the ghost of little feet that never ran through these halls. She had tried to fill the house with everything else, the immaculate decor, the hosted holidays, the perfectly planned outings… but none of it could drown out the sound of a nursery that remained empty.

Looking into her own eyes, she felt the shame bubble up. It wasn't that she didn’t love Jack, but their love felt like a beautiful, finished house that was missing its foundation. She gripped the edge of the sink, staring at the small, crinkled bag. Please, she thought, the plea directed at the air, at her body, at the silent house. Just let there be noise.

Laura heard a roar coming from the living room and a whoop from Jack, “Laur! He just sunk a twenty-foot putt!”

The noise jarred her back to the present. She wanted to hurry and get this over with. From beneath the sink she pulled out a paper cup then went about filling it. She’d been withholding since noon, squirming on the ride home from the pharmacy, and now she had a nauseous ache. Cold sweat prickled at her back, a pavlovian response to this same procedure she’d now done hundreds of times.

It wasn’t an exaggeration. For two years she did this ritual for several days straight. There were also the Luteinizing Hormone test strips, the digital tracking devices she’d purchased, the recurring tracking app charges, the acupuncture, the physical therapist, the nutritionist. Just thinking of a nutritionist had her longing for ice cream but it had been more than a year since she last had sugar, or caffeine, or a glass of wine. She groaned. Wine.

Laura pulled one of the pregnancy tests out of the box. Her stomach rolled with nausea again. She double checked the door was locked as she ripped the stick free of its packaging and with shaking hands dipped it in. She counted to five slowly in her head, then capped the stick, setting it face down on the counter to process.

Three minutes.

Laura thought back to the first time she’d taken a test. It had been a year after Jack and her were married. Neither her mom nor her sister ever shared any issues in trying to conceive so she had just assumed it would happen. They had gathered together in the master bathroom, grinning and kissing each other.

“I have a feeling this is it.” Jack had said.

He said that again the next month. And the next. He said it 18 times. Laura remembered the last time.

She had been sitting on the edge of the bed, sobbing when he got home. Another month failed. Another month of time and money seemingly lost. Jack had walked in silently, sat next to her and rubbed her back.

“I think we need to take a break.” He had murmured. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Laura couldn’t imagine stopping trying. As fruitless as their efforts had been, taking no action certainly wouldn’t yield the results she wanted.

“I love you and I promise I want this as bad as you do.” Jack’s eyes had brimmed with unshed tears. “But it will happen. I know it will.”

She glanced at her watch now, returning to the moment with a weary sigh.

Two minutes.

Jack may have given up, but Laura wasn’t going to. Instead she hid the box of test strips in the powder room. She’d crawl out of bed in the morning to come downstairs and make his coffee, drink her “fertili-tea” that she’d tucked into the back of the pantry, and do her “womb alignment yoga”. By the time Jack drifted down stairs, hair mussed from an amazing night's sleep and boxers resting low on his hip bones, Laura had already ticked off her boxes to ensure pregnancy.

She wondered now if he knew his resignation had only doubled her resolve.

Three months ago she sat on a paper covered medical bed, vulnerably covered from her waist down in only a paper sheet. Dr. Leanna sat across from her.

“Anatomically speaking, nothing is wrong but in an over abundance of caution, I am sending in a prescription for a natural estrogen suppository. She typed on a small screen in her lap. I think we could stand to lower your TSH levels as well. I’ll prescribe something for that as well. She looked up at Laura, green eyes sparkling and a warm smile on her face.

“There is nothing preventing this from happening. Go home and make a baby!”

One minute.

For three months Laura had lied to Jack. She’d never lied to him before. Instead of initiating because of a positive ovulation test, Laura had dimmed the lights, playfully lured Jack to bed. She felt awful doing it but she couldn’t give up. Truthfully she didn’t think Jack would mind once they did it. Once she conceived.

A knock on the door startled her.

“Laur? Babe, are you okay in there?”

Her heart thumped wildly.

“Yeah… uhm… my stomach is just a little upset.”

The door knob twisted, but the lock clicked.

“You locked the door?”

Laura hung her head. What could she say? Another lie on top of the pile of lies she was living on? Looking up she replied.

“I’m just… super nauseous, Jack. I don’t want you to see this.”

She could practically hear him shifting his weight beyond the thin powder room door mulling over her words, wondering why they felt so wrong. But then audible footsteps indicated Jack shuffling away.

A shaking sigh left her lips. Time was up.

Before grabbing the stick she paused. What if this was the moment? What if all the hard work had culminated into this moment. Was she robbing Jack of this? She shook her head. It’s negative, just like every time before. Why grab him and get him excited or angry for no good reason?

Laura grabbed the stick from the counter, hands trembling.She began to count down, one mississippi, two mississippi…

Knock, knock, knock.

Laura jumped, dropping the pregnancy test into the toilet.

“Babe, I’m coming in. I brought gatorade and crackers.”

The handle began turning again.

Mortified of her lie with adrenaline pumping, Laura grabbed the handle, making sure the lock was still turned into place. Then she turned to the bowl, looking down at the test that had sunk face down to the bottom of the bowl.

“Laur, come on. Unlock the door. It can’t be that bad.”

She couldn’t find words to answer him. Instead she cringed as she flung her hand into the bowl.Her fingers touched cold porcelain. The water was frigid. She snatched the plastic, dripping, and scrambled upright.

“Laur, you have to answer me. Are you okay?”

The handle jiggled again. Laura's heart was beating in her ears. She had to look now.

Snatching the test up she flipped it over.

Time stood still as Laura stared at the words on the test. Water logged though it was, only one word showed. A sob ripped through her and up her throat. Her hands trembled so badly she dropped the test again, falling to the floor onto her knees.

Outside the door Jack grew frantic. The door knob jiggled harder.

“Laur, please! What is it?!”

Reality slammed into her consciousness. She had done it. They had done it really but she’d locked Jack out, just as he was now. She knew she was being selfish but still she sat on the cool tiles, heart cracked open as exhaustion took over. Exhaustion from the trying, the noes, the never ending charge she led marching towards the ending she so desired. She grabbed the test again, blurred and soaked. Her lungs burned as she struggled to get air in. This small piece of plastic indicated the end of one chapter and the beginning of a chapter she had been longing to read every day of her life since she picked out her first baby doll at six years old.

“Laura,” Jack’s voice filled with desperation, “Talk to me Laura. Is it… is it something medical? I’m calling 911 if you don’t answer me.”

She looked at the test in her palm. The result was clear. “Pregnant” filled the digital screen.She thought of the womb alignment yoga, the carefully tucked away tea, the dimmed lights, the years of calculated intimacy. This moment while washing her in relief didn’t feel like the joy she expected. She stared up at the door, a wall she had erected between her and Jack.

“Jack,” she croaked out, voice rippled with the ebbing sobs.

“Babe, I’m here. Let me in.”

Her arm stretched up to the lock, her hand hovering only a moment before she twisted it. The click sounded like a gunshot in the small, cramped room.

Suddenly the door was flung open. She watched as Jack took it all in, her sobbing on the floor, water splashed around the room, the open box of pregnancy tests. She held her breath, expecting anger or disappointment.

Jack looked into her eyes and sank to his knees, pulling her towards him and into his chest. He smoothed his hands over her hair.

“Oh Laur.” His voice broke as he ran his calloused hands over her hair, smoothing it. “Babe, this is why I wanted to take a break. I want this just as much as you do.”

Laura pulled away, clinging to the test she cradled against her chest.

“You do?”

“Of course I do. I want to change diapers, I want to see you glowing with pregnancy. I want to take our children golfing. Watch you teach them to swim. I want to travel with them. Often. I want to watch them become adults as we grow old and grey. Laura, you are going to make an incredible mom. I’ve never stopped wanting it, but I can’t handle this. Seeing you like this,” he looked around the room then back to her. “It breaks me.” His voice cracked again as he whispered the last words.

Silent tears streamed down both of their faces.

“Is this why you’ve felt so distant lately?” Jack continued as Laura's cries quieted. “I’ve been so scared. Leaving bed early, going to bed alone. Not sharing about your day the way we used to.”

"Please," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. "Don’t lose us while you chase this. We’re in this together."

Laura looked at him—really looked at him—and finally, for the first time in years, the crushing weight of the silence lifted. She didn't have to carry it alone anymore. She tucked the test into his palm, closed her fingers over his, and let out a breath she felt she’d been holding since she was six years old.

Jack looked at her in confusion, turning the test over in his palm. Laura watched as he blinked. Looked at the test, looked at her. Blinked back to the test.

"Laur?" Jack’s voice was a whisper. He stared at the test, his eyes darting between the word and her face, the confusion in his expression slowly melting into a look of sheer, trembling disbelief.

“I’m.. I’m sorry. I have been shutting you out. I am so sorry. The guilt and the shame of hiding this part of me from you has been insurmountable. I’ve missed you.” Laura’s lips trembled and she took a steadying breath.

“I’ve missed you too.” Jack’s steely eyes now locked into hers. “I am really fucking happy right now but Laura? Never do this again. If you lock me out… All I can do is bang on the door and beg you to let me in.” Jack let his head hang. “I’m tired of begging Laur.”

Laura grabbed his head in her hands, wiping away the tears. A new gear of resolve was shifting into place as she looked at the half broken man sheltering her from the hallway, cocooning her into the powder room. His pain a clear reflection of her pain. Except she was the cause this time.

With a clear voice and no more tears, Laura wiped at her eyes.

“Never again. I am so sorry Jack. We are in this together. Look at me.”

Their eyes locked.

“Never again.”

Jack pulled her up to her feet, then effortlessly swung her into his arms, carrying her like a baby down the hall and up the stairs. Tiki, their fluffy golden retriever bounced around them, wanting to be involved in whatever new form of cuddling this may be.

Laura giggled, “What are you doing?”

“Taking my beautiful, strong, pregnant wife to bed.” Jack punctuated the statement with a kiss on her nose as he intended to do just that.