“Okay.” The doctor returns her attention to me. “Of the women who conceive, about twenty percent will miscarry, which is a similar proportion when compared to women who conceive naturally.”
“Wait, what?” I hold up a hand to indicate for her to stop talking, and turn to Ashlin. “So there’s a three in ten chance you’ll get pregnant, and then if you do, there’s a one in five chance you’ll miscarry? Baby, I don’t like those odds.”
Her chin juts stubbornly forward. “It’s better than the zero percent chance I currently have.”
“I’m not sure I can watch you go through that again.” I close my eyes and rub my temples, remembering the days following the awful night when we lost Cara. Ashlin wouldn’t get out of bed. She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling, or curled into a ball and cried silently. I wanted to be there for her. I tried to comfort her. To climb into bed and wrap myself around her, but that only seemed to make things worse. It was as if she didn’t think she deserved to be held or treated with gentleness, and when she pushed me away, my invisible wound deepened. It tore out everything inside me and I couldn’t figure out how to glue it back into place.
To my surprise, she reaches for my hand. It’s the first time I’ve felt her touch since she announced that we should separate.
“It’ll be okay,” she murmurs, as though she’s soothing an agitated beast. Maybe that’s what I am. “However it goes, we’ll get through this.”
I clasp her hand tight, and inhale freely for the first time in three years. She needs this, and I need her. I give her one final squeeze and let her go. Raising my eyes, I focus on the doctor and try to even out my breathing.
Don’t panic, Isles. You can survive anything if it brings Ashlin back into your life.
“What else do I need to know?”
The doctor stands, and crosses to a poster on the wall. My gaze follows and I note that the poster sets out the risks and benefits of IVF alongside photos of babies and smiling parents. “There’s a slightly increased risk of multiple births or of premature birth with a lower birth weight.”
“So, we might have twins?” I clarify, pausing on a photo of a woman with a baby in each arm.
“Yes. There’s also a chance that complications may arise during the egg-retrieval procedure.”
My breath hitches. “Complications?”
Ashlin’s arm hooks around me, and she scoots closer to my side. “The needle could poke something it’s not supposed to.”
“Oh.” My hand lands on her hip and reflexively tightens.
“That’s right,” the doctor agrees. “In which case it could result in bleeding or damage to the bowel or bladder.”
This plan is sounding worse and worse. Why do women go through this?
“Anything else?” My voice is taut.
“A small percentage of women suffer an ectopic pregnancy. The egg implants somewhere other than the uterus, and the pregnancy can’t progress.”
“Would that put Ashlin in danger?”
“It’s a life-threatening condition.”
My jaw clenches and the room seems to spin around me. I glance down at my girl. This all sounds too dangerous, especially considering we haven’t even tried the old fashioned way. I know that’s not what she wants, but if it’s more likely to keep her safe, then surely it’s worth any discomfort. “We need to talk in private.”
She makes a face. “Dr. Slater probably has another appointment waiting.”
“They can keep on waiting.” I don’t care about them, I care about Ashlin.
She looks at the doctor apologetically. “We’ll be back in a second.”
Dr. Slater shrugs. “No need to go anywhere. I’ll step out for a moment.” She leaves, and the door clicks shut behind her.
I turn to Ashlin and rest my hands on her shoulders. “Are you sure you want to do this? There are other ways.”
She tilts her chin defiantly. “One hundred percent.” Her voice doesn’t waver. “I know what the risks are, and I also know they’re unlikely to happen. The chance of something going wrong is slim. I’m willing to take the chance.” She studies me carefully. “The question is: are you?”
I don’t answer immediately, because honestly, I don’t have the same degree of certainty as her. She’s thought about this for months, but it’s all new to me. Besides, when it comes down to it, she’s the one who’ll be risking her health, and she has control over her body. If she wanted to go ahead without me, she could. The only input I have is whether I father her baby and therefore get to be here for her. If I suggest trying via sex, I might frighten her off, and the prospect of losing her terrifies me. I’d rather do things her way and hope I come out the other side with both my girl and a baby as a prize.
The family I always wanted.
