Social-Suicide

Part 40

Six months, nine days and four hours, that's how long Steve a Natasha have been trying to conceive.

With no luck.

It was negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test and Natasha herself was starting to doubt her fertility. Which landed her here, a fertility clinic, Steve by her side, phone in hand.

She was nervous, and the pictures of happy families and baby bumps posted around weren't helping. If anything they were making it worse.

A young couple sat across from her, the husband happily caressing his wifes bump as she smiled at him.

She smiled at the young couple but couldn't help the pang of resentment that poured into her. She wonder what she had done wrong in the world for her not to get the one thing she wants the most. A baby.

She didn't care if it was a boy or a girl as long as they were healthy, because at the end of the day that's all that matters.

The door that lead back to the examine rooms squeaked open and a older woman, her hair greying from old age and wrinkles adorning her face walked out, clipboard in hand. She looked around the waiting area with a smile as she called out "Rogers."

Natasha and Steve instantly stood up, Steve pocketing his cell as he intertwined his fingers with his wife's.

The couple walked up to the older woman who smiled at them and asked them how they were doing. Natasha kept her answer simply, supplying that she was okay, as Steve did the same.

The woman, whom the couple soon learned name is Cynthia, lead them to one of the examine rooms. She checked Natasha's blood pressure and heartbeat then lastly her blood sugar before asking a round of routine questions, ones Natasha has answered a thousand times.

The questions consisted of:

• Are you currently on any medication?
• When was your last minstrel cycle?
• Have you felt off the last few days?
• Are you sexually active?

Natasha found the last one to be a little idiotic, after all this is a fertility clinic. She came here because she's trying to conceive.

After asking the list of questions Cynthia quickly gathered her things and exited the room, with promise that the doctor would be with them shortly.

Natasha let out a sigh as the large wooden door closed behind the elderly woman. She looked out the small glass window for a short moment before she felt her husband's careful touch.

Steve ran his thumb gently over the back of her hand and pulled it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there.

Natasha smiled as she turned her head to look at him.

"It's gonna be okay." He told her

Wether he was trying to reassure her or himself, Natasha didn't know and she doesn't think he does either. But she kept her mouth shut about that thought.

"What if isn't?" She questioned

Natasha, always the practical one. She has been let down so many times in life that she expects the worst at this point.

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly "then will cross that bridge when we get there. Right now let's think positively."

Natasha's lips parted, ready to retort when a knock sounded on the door. "Come in." She told them and the door opened to reveal Cynthia once again.

She smiled at the young couple as she came into the room, a sterilized bag that held a pee cup in hand. She set the bag on the counter and took the cup out labeling it 'Natasha Rogers', she then turned to the couple and handed the cup to the red head.