Monday 13th September 2010
One year ago.
“Meg had a dream,” Suse declares, in that special way that means she wants me to bite.
“That we got pregnant first time.”
“That’s nice, isn’t it?”
“It’s a nice thought,” she whispers, looking out the window.
We both go silent. I watch her drift off, almost unaware that I am there. As she stares out the window, I see her sad eyes come in, for a moment, like cloud over the sun, before the wind moves it on, and I see my wife again.
“Do you think a dream trumps a candle?”
I sigh deeply.
“I think that we’ve been told that IVF is a long road,” I say, taking her hand, “and that we have a twenty to twenty-five percent chance each time.”
I look into her eyes, which again betray her. This time, they are dark. I move closer, and take her into a hug.
“Yes, honey, I think a dream definitely trumps a candle.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” she whispers.
I feel her hugging me, relenting slightly, and then tensing again; trying desperately to put that shattered dream back together, like a kid telling herself that Santa does exist.
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