Holding a fresh bunch of bright orange roses, her favourite flowers, I close the mahogany door which marks the entrance to my house. As I walk towards my car in the snow, I feel stiff and wooden, perhaps because of the cold but possibly because of my anxiety for the day that lay ahead.

I drive out of the driveway, starting the annual journey to Walnut Gardens. As I drive along the desolate road, I pass a once familiar building. I begin to reminisce. The exterior seems unchanged and untouched from what I can see. One can only guess what the inside looks like.

I remember the day that I first unlocked the front door of that house. It was the day after we exchanged our vows. Finally, it was time to begin a new journey with my best friend and love of my life. At least that’s how it seemed in my callow youth. We felt accomplished as if we’d defied all odds. Our families thought that we were too young. Their main quarrel was that they wanted us to be more established and independent. Perhaps they were on to something.

I’m led to recall a later episode in that same house a year or so later. We were standing looking in on the room, just footsteps away from our own bedroom. Everything was new and unused. The curtains were neatly tied back, inviting a sliver of sunlight to creep through, lighting up the room like a warm smile.

“Imagine it! We’ll finally be able to fill this room” Jenna said excitedly.

“I know. I can hardly believe it myself.”

“Finally, the finishing touch to our household.”

“I really have a good feeling about it this time.”

Suddenly, the exuberant joy drained from her face as she lets out a deep sigh.

“I can see what you’re thinking but, let’s not go down that road.”

“Jamie, I’m terrified. I just don’t know if I can go through all that pain again.”

“I know, my love. I feel the same, but, it’s nothing that we can control. These things just happen.”

“If only there was something…”

“You did everything you could. This time will be different. Soon enough, we’ll get to see his tiny fingers, toes, and rosy cheeks.”

“But, how can you be so sure?”

I had no real answer but I smiled and said: “I have a good feeling about this. Things will work out, you’ll see.”

I took her in my arms, doing the best I could to console her. She rested her head on my shoulder as she wept uncontrollably. To be honest, I had no idea myself. The miscarriage had almost destroyed us. I needed to be the strong one, even if I had to fake it. As I caressed my wife, I felt the strong desire to cry myself.

Later that night, I struggled to fall asleep as something about our earlier conversation just kept niggling at me. I quietly slipped out of bed, stepping slowly to the unoccupied room next to ours. As I silently gazed upon the room, the door pillar giving my weary body support, all the emotions came trickling back. I could no longer suppress the tears. I stood there, imagining what would soon occupy this room, still unsure and filled with fear.

***

Tell us: Do you think they will have the baby this time? How difficult is it for couples to overcome not having children in their marriage?