your pov
I looked over at Timothée, giving him a half-smile, which he returned. I went back to looking at the dirty and glossy grey-tiled floor.
- flashback -
"Wouldn't it be nice to have a mini-me or you in the house.." he asked hugging me from behind, "maybe within the next nine months?"
My face flushed red. He hadn't mentioned wanting kids so soon, but neither had I.
This was really out of the blue. We've had plenty of serious conversations.
They just never start with asking a straight forward or suggestive/imaginative question.
"I think so." I smiled, continuing to cut up the vegetables for dinner.
His hands followed to my stomach, going over it slowly and softly like there was actually something inside of there. Something that he wanted.
The smile on my face grew wider and I turned around to look at him.
I've been waiting for this exact moment.
"Are you saying you want a baby?"
"Yes," he nodded "but only if you do too."
I gave him a kiss. "I really want a baby too."
He pulled me in for another kiss. My lower back started to press up against the kitchen island. I was close to almost laying back on the table when he started kissing with more passionate and began to push me backward.
"Not here." I said and pulled away.
I reached behind him to turn off the stove, where I had a pot of chicken starting to boil.
"Forget dinner." I smirked and he carried me up to our bedroom.
That was the first night we started trying.
_______________________________
A knock on the door startled me and pulled me out of my flashback. I turned around to see our doctor, Dr.Smith, walking in with two folders in one of his hands.
After trying constantly for a solid year, we have had no luck and, now, very little hope of ever conceiving a baby.
Timothée and I agreed to come and see a fertility specialist. We had some tests done to see if we could get an answer as to why I wasn't pregnant yet. Tests to see if there is something wrong with me, or something wrong with him.
"Hello," Dr.Smith said coming over to shake our hands "it's nice to see you both, again."
"Same to you." I said.
He sat down in his chair, out of the corner of my eye I could see Timothée staring at me.
He squeezed my hand, something he always does to calm me down and reassure me.
And I'm glad that he did. Because whether the results we're about to be given are good or bad, I'm already on the verge of tears when the only thing the doctor has said so far is "hello."
I do think I have the right to be sad, jealous, frustrated, disappointed and angry right now.
It can only take a few weeks for some to conceive. There are some who conceive after their first try. Some just conceive without even wanting to have a child in the first place.
If it seems like everyone else around us gets to conceive a baby so easily, why can't we?
Why can't I?
"Alright," Dr.Smith said "I have both of your results here." he opened one of the folders.
I looked at him intensely, making it seem like I was ready for anything he was about to say.
"Mr. Chalamet, your results came back fine. Nothing is out of the ordinary, as of right now, everything seems normal. There is nothing you should have to or need to be worried about."
He went on to explain the results of his tests, using lots of medical terms. He just stated that Tim was all good, basically perfect.
Timothée let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
I let go of his hand and wiped away the already falling tears off of my cheeks, trying to hide my face behind the sleeve of my sweater.
"Here you go," Dr.Smith said handing me the tissue box on his desk, "Mrs.Chalamet, I'm afraid I have bad news regarding your results."
"Alright." my voice cracked.
"It seems that.." his voice faded far away from my ears "..you are unable to.." all of his words jumbled together and passed through me like they mean absolutely nothing.
I didn't have to pay attention to what he said word for word when I already knew what his answer was regarding my test results: I cannot naturally conceive children.
"I'm so sorry." he said.
Dr.Smith opened up the second folder that was filled with papers and a few pamphlets.
"For the both of you, I have some resources about other ways to have children," he took out the pamphlets, "you can attempt IVF, but that has an extremely low positivity rate and is very expensive."
I took one of the pamphlets and went through it quickly, trying to do something to keep myself from just breaking down right here.
"Your better and most successful options in having children would be through either adoption or surrogacy."
"Thank you." I said.
"It's quite often that couples, who want to become parents, quit the entire idea of having children in situations like yours because they cannot conceive naturally," he said "but like I've shown you, there are other options. I always tell my patients, 'it does not matter whether your future children come from you both genetically or from someone else who has no genetic relation whatsoever,' it only matters how you come to make them your own."
"Well said." Timothée wiped his tears away.
Dr.Smith got up from his chair and took my hand in his, "Mrs.Chalamet, I know that this must be harder on you than on your husband, that always seems to be the case. In whatever way you both bring a child into this world and into your home, I know that you will turn out to be an amazing mother." he smiled.
"Thank you." I tried to smile back.
Dr.Smith shook Timothée's hand and said his goodbyes to us both before leaving the room.
"Are you okay?" Timothée asked hesitantly.
"I think so."
I didn't have to 'think.' I'm not okay. I am the exact fucking opposite of "okay."
Despite Dr.Smith's short speech and the extra information he gave, I'm breaking up inside.
One touch and I'll shatter.
"Let's go home." Timothée kissed my cheek.
We got up, checked out, and went home. I went straight up to our bedroom and laid down in our bed.
"Y/n." Timothée walked in.
"Please," I whispered "just go away."
He laid down on the bed next to me, pulling me into his arms tightly.
That's all it took. I finally broke apart and began to sob and whale in what felt like the greatest pain I had ever felt in my entire life.
"I'm sorry." I gasped for air.
"Don't be sorry, you did nothing wrong."
"You don't get it." I moved away from him.
"I do get it, y/n."
"NO! YOU DON'T!" I yelled getting off of the bed.
"You don't have to yell." he said walking over to me, reaching for me to be in his arms again.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I screamed this time.
He would never get it. I will never be able to physically carry my own child and feel all of the moments every mother gets the chance to.
Since I was a child, I've always had a strong maternal instinct toward anything that comes to my touch. I always knew I wanted children, I always knew I wanted to be a Mom some day.
Now, everything I've ever wanted, I will never be able to get.
I ran out of our bedroom.
"Y/N! STOP!" he yelled chasing me down the hallway.
He caught up to me quickly, grabbing onto me from behind and tackling us both down to the floor.
"Let me go!" I tried to wriggle out of his arms, only for them to tighten around me, "let me go!" I began to sob again.
"It's okay," he said, now sobbing himself, "it's all going to be okay."
kind of trashy, I might delete it later!