During one of the calls to Lyena while I’m in Maryland helping care for my dad, she gently floats a reminder that there’s baby-making to be done and if we want to give this round a go, then the window is a small one. The problem is that I’m currently in Maryland, Lyena is in Los Angeles and in less than a week, we’re both supposed to be in Alaska. As it’s very hard to do what we need to do while we’re 3,000 miles apart (and I am completely unwilling to let someone else do my bit), one of us has to fly to the other.
It appears we picked a good month to take off. Not long after we make the decision, I get a call from my sister, who is, once again, at the ER. This time, however, it’s not my mom that’s sick, but my dad. He was having some trouble breathing, so she took him to the hospital to get checked out.
We need a break. After several discussions we’ve decided it’s time for a respite from fertility for a bit. We’re both feeling a growing sense of desperation and anxiety about getting pregnant – or, perhaps more accurately, not getting pregnant – and we’re also starting to get concerned about the financial load of all of this baby-making, so we’re going to take a month off and give ourselves a little break.