The Gift of Life

Chapter 1

You can't have kids. You can't have kids. You can't have kids.

Over and over those four words rang in my head. I was only aware of that new bit of information, the tears running down my cheeks and my husbands hand rubbing my back.

I could hear the doctor talking, but it sounded like he was far away. I couldn't understand his words. I saw Ian out of the corner of my eye nodded at what the doctor was saying, his beautiful brown eyes filled with tears.

Ian and I have been trying to have kids since we got married two years ago. We had always dreamed of having a family of our own. I was an only child who wanted siblings more than anything, and Ian was one of eight kids, loving every second with his brothers and sisters. The fact that we weren't going to be able to have kids of our own was devastating.

An hour later, we were in our car, driving back home. It was silent. The melancholy kind of silent where everyone in the room is thinking about a loss, to devastated to do anything more than sulk in that. The kind of silence that's hollow, empty, aware of what could be been and sorrowful about the absence of that.

For a brief moment, I let myself think about what having kids would be like. We would name our first girl Pheonix, our first boy Forrest. Then after that would come Oliver, Aphrodite, Monique and Newton. They would be crazy and funny. All of them would love to read and they would be active in sports.

My fantasy was soon whipped away when we reached our house, entering the plain living area with no toys, the clean kitchen, empty of cartoon lunchboxes, our bedroom with no crib.

I mechanically started preparing a dinner for two. I only had the willpower to make eggs and toast, Ian setting the table with paper plates and plastic silverware.

We ate in silence for a while, before Ian took my hand and began to talk.

What he was saying wasn't significant, but it meant the world to me. He talked about our childhood, growing up together in Idaho. We remembered our wedding and the past two years of our lives living in Hidden Springs.

As he recalled high school memories, I remembered something

"Ian!" I exclaimed, jumping up and running to our bedroom, reaching into my drawer and digging around. He followed me and I turned toward him, pausing my rummaging, "We should adopt!"

"What?" He asked as I turned back to my drawer.

I found what I was looking for, my red leather journal I've written in since I was a child. Picking it up, I took a deep breath and began to explain, "When I was in high school I used to dream of adopting babies who the parents were going to abort or children from third world countries." I was talking fast now, excited to share my thoughts, "I wanted to give a life to kids that wouldn't have one if I didn't adopt them. If we can't have kids of our own, we should adopt ones who would be dead if we didn't."