Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Ava,
Maybe I didn’t see it sooner because I’m away so much. Maybe I just didn’t want to ever see it. But we’ve changed. Our lives are no longer our own. They belong to this constant and obsessive need to have a child.
You and I have been together for so long that your needs became my needs. Your wants became my wants. Until I realized they weren’t.
I’m not saying I don’t want to be a father. I’m saying it’s no longer a requirement in my life. That I can be happy and fulfilled without checking that box. But you, Ava, were born to be a mother, and I know you will never be happy until you achieve that goal.
Ever since I can remember, all I wanted was to make you happy.
I failed. I failed you. I failed us. And it guts me that I can’t give you the one thing you really want in life.
Sadly, I don’t see a future for us that doesn’t revolve around getting pregnant or having a child. Even if we tried sperm donation as we’d discussed, your doctors have warned us that it may not work. And if we decided on adoption, it could take years of waiting and more disappointment.
That’s why I pushed so hard for the IVF. I felt it was a last-ditch effort and possibly our best chance. When it didn’t work, I felt we might be in for an even longer road.
But I’m exhausted from all the disappointment. From the one week with slivers of excitement because maybe you could be pregnant, to the months after of mourning the fact that you’re not.
This is not your fault, Ava. It’s mine. It’s all on me. I’m owning up to the fact that I simply can’t go on pretending that this way we’ve been living is okay. I’ve pledged my life to helping people. And it wrecks me that the person I love the most in this world is the one person I can’t help.
I have no idea what will happen when I come home. Maybe I don’t even deserve to. Maybe I should go somewhere else, start over, and let you live in peace in the town you love knowing you won’t have to see the man who failed you so miserably.
Perhaps I’ll move to the city and commute to the hospital where the chances of us running into each other are slim. I’ve got time to work it out. And I wanted to give you time to process this.
I want only the best for you, Ava. And I truly hope someday you get everything you’ve ever dreamed of.
You deserve it. And you certainly deserve better than a selfish guy who can’t stick around to support you when the going gets tough.
I understand if this makes you hate me. It makes me hate myself knowing I’m hurting you.
But what we’ve gone through the past ten years… hasn’t that been hurting us too?
It’s like the frog and the water. If you put a frog in hot water, he’ll immediately jump out.
If you put him in cold water and let it slowly heat up, he’ll boil to death.
A poor metaphor, I know, but somehow we let our lives slowly change.
Eventually, it all became about that one thing.
And we never recognized that in doing so, we were slowly chipping away at us; the foundation of our marriage; who we used to be.
We got really good at pretending it was all okay. We convinced each other everything would be wonderful once we had a baby. But we have to ask ourselves the hard question… would it? If we couldn’t truly be happy and satisfied with just each other, could having a child change all that?
Continuing to live this way feels like a constant state of purgatory. And it isn’t fair to either of us.
Maybe I’ll regret this one day. I’m fairly positive I will. Because the thought of you with another man is unconscionable. But that’ll be on me, too.
I love you, Ava. I’ll always love you. And I truly hope one day you find the happiness you’re searching for.
~Trevor