Without a word, I sprint to the kitchen, all the while hearing her laughter in the background. I don’t even bother taking the ice cream out of the bag, but shove the entire thing inside and then sprint down the hallway, catching up to her quickly.
It’s been about four years of trying to conceive.
At first, we were casual about it, not concerned about contraception, and if it happened, it happened. But after two years went by, we decided to track when Milly was ovulating, you know . . . use science. And when that wasn’t working, we started to get worried, which was when we found a gynecologist. We started infertility treatments a year ago.
It’s been devastating and difficult because being a professional baseball player, there were times I’ve been out of town during the window to conceive. There were a few times where Milly traveled with me so we didn’t miss the window, but after two of those failed attempts, Milly became discouraged, we saw my play was being affected by it, so we decided not to put that much pressure on ourselves.
After the season ended, we booked a nice, long vacation in Greece to relax, to get our minds off it. But when Milly started to bleed at the beginning of the trip, I could see her slowly curling in on herself. I spent a lot of days with her in my arms, lying on a lounger, enjoying the sun on our bare skin, napping. We didn’t do much sightseeing, we didn’t bother exploring the beautiful culture, instead, we just stayed in each other’s arms. It was nice, but I also came back knowing Milly wasn’t the same.
When we first had the conversation of wanting kids, we were both on the fence. We could take them or leave them, but as time went on, we both realized, we wanted a little one. Boy or girl, didn’t matter.
And as time has gone on, I’ve become more desperate.
And I can see Milly feels the same way. I know her spirit is being battered with every month that goes by when she doesn’t get pregnant.
“Now if it’s negative, it’s okay, we’ll keep trying,” I say, my arm wrapped around her shoulder.
It’s the same thing I’ve said every time we’ve taken a test and every time it’s been negative.
“I know. But I really have a good feeling about this,” she says. “I think we conceived this time.”
I kiss her on the lips and we head into the bathroom. She goes to the toilet room and I grab the bin we keep under the sink. After taking a few tests, we’ve found it easier for her to pee in the Rubbermaid bin and then stick the test inside that, than trying to aim. Surprisingly, she’s not a good aimer.
I hand her the bin and then step aside, giving her some space.
“How were the cages today?” she asks. “Loosen things up?”
“Yeah. Knox was there. We tossed to each other.”
“Oh good. Did you work on your hands like I told you to?”
Always a coach, she never lets a moment go by where she isn’t analyzing my swing.
“I didn’t.”
“Carson,” she reprimands. “I know it’s off-season, so you can and should take time to rest and recover. But I just don’t want you to relax too much.”
“Head wasn’t really in it. Just loosened up this time. It felt good to just go in there and whack the ball, not think, you know?”
She sighs. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t want to harp, and I know you know what you’re doing, but I also know staying on pace with your hit record is important to you too. So you need—”
“To work on my hands. Yes, Coach.” I smile to myself.
“I love you,” she says with a chuckle.
“And I love you too.” My Milly isn’t one to waste words, but it will never get old being told I’m loved every day. She shows me in so many ways, but I love her words. Always have. Love her mouth too, but that’s for another moment.
She flushes and then comes out of the toilet room with the bin in hand, pee stick in the pee. I take the container from her, and set it on the counter while she washes her hands. I grab some toilet paper and then remove the stick and set it on the counter. After washing my hands as well, we take a seat on the floor, against the wall, the stick on the counter in front of us, out of sight.
“How were the cages for you today? Give your brothers shit?”
“Always. Sean’s working with this one kid who has massive potential. He’s been trying to get me to take a look at his swing for a few weeks now, so I finally watched him a bit. Pretty sure he’s going to be the next Knox Gentry.”
“Excuse me?” I ask with a laugh. “Why not the next Carson Stone?”
“Because this kid worked on his hands when I told him to today.”
I roll my eyes. “Always busting my balls.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders and bring her in close. “Can’t a guy take a break?”
“Sure, just know when you’re taking a break, there’s someone out there working harder than you, vying for your contract, for your position.”
“You paint a beautiful picture of stress and anxiety.”
She chuckles and presses a kiss to my jaw. “You know I’m kidding. Training doesn’t really start until December. You have some time to continue to relax, but you know I’m not going to let up when training starts.”
“Have you ever?” I ask?
She shakes her head.
It’s the same distraction technique we’ve used every time we’re waiting for the results. We never talk about the future, about what if the test is positive, what we’ll do if we are pregnant, like if we would move. Stay in this apartment. Go for a house . . .
Nope, we keep it simple. We don’t talk about the big elephant in the room, rather nuzzle him to the side and talk about what’s easy for us, and that’s baseball.
“Anyway, this kid’s going to be awesome. His mom booked him a few sessions with me so we can do some video analysis. He was really kind too. A good kid. Of course, he couldn’t stop drooling over you.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, perking up. “Tell me more about that.”
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
I squeeze her. “Don’t get enough love at home. I need it elsewhere.”
She sighs and says, “He told me that you signed a baseball for him once at one of the camps the Bobbies put on. Apparently, he said something stupid to you like, I like the buttons on your jersey.”
A laugh pops out of my mouth. “Oh shit, I remember that kid. He was all jittery. That was the only thing he said to me before turning bright red. I remember watching him throughout the camp thinking he had great potential, though.”
“Well, he’s still infatuated, in case you were wondering. You should come to one of the sessions, surprise him, maybe compliment his shoelaces, you know, make him feel like he fits in.”
“I can do that for sure.” I check my phone and say, “I think it’s time. Want me to check?”
“No, I can check.” We both stand but she doesn’t walk over to the counter just yet. She grips my hand and brings our connection to her mouth where she presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles. “I have a good feeling, Carson.”
“I do, too.”
Lifting up on her toes, her hand goes to my cheek, and she brings me down to her lips where she kisses me. My mouth parts for her and for a second, we get lost in our connection, in the burning love we have for each other. No matter what happens, we’re always going to be an us. Through thick and thin, there will always be an us.