Look up

Johnathan and Martha sat in the waiting room, again. Martha reviewed the list of questions on her phone, fixing the grammar of a sentence that only she would see. The doctors and nurses always asked if there were any questions, but there was never enough time to answer them all. Martha never seemed to run out of questions. Johnathan stared at the pile of magazines on the enormous coffee table. He wondered if magazine subscriptions were tax-deductible for a clinic like this, or if one of the doctors just came in to work every six months with a long box filled with fashion, celebrity, and golf magazines. Perhaps they just stole them from the library. Nobody reads periodicals at the library anyway. Wasn’t print media supposed to be dying? Johnathan could not understand how “Fairway Fashion” magazine existed in the first place, much less stayed in business.

“This council has completely abandoned its responsibility for the people of this planet!”

Jonathan sat up and wrapped his arm around Martha. She leaned into his shoulder without looking up from her list. They were used to quiet affirmations at this point. This was round two, or round seven, or round 39, depending on how you count it. After three years, five IUIs, one egg retrieval, and one failed transfer, Johnathan and Martha were still waiting. Still trying. A nurse called Martha’s name and made eye-contact. Martha stood.

“We send war criminals to their punishment, but we ignore the clear indications that the very ground on which we stand is doomed!”

The drive back home was quiet. This was the point where they found out last time. The first blood draw tests for the hormone levels that indicate pregnancy. It’s not fool proof. A lot can go wrong after this hurdle, but this is where they fell down before. Johnathan kept his eyes on the tail-lights in front of him. The truck was low on gas, but he didn’t want to stop. It felt better to go right home. Martha researched. The internet was an awful place to get solid answers or helpful support, but it was a great place to gather data. Martha was good with sorting through data, finding what was helpful, and throwing out the rest. Her most recent diagnosis (she had two now. Johnathan only had one) was asymptomatic endometriosis, which helped explain how this was happening to her. Nothing ever explained why.

“It is patently absurd that even after hearing the testimony of one of the greatest scientists the world has ever known, this council remains complacent!”

Martha could tell by the way the nurse on the phone asked her name. This was the voice of a person who has to deliver bad news today. Johnathan held out hope. Martha made her clarify twice. No. There’s no chance. It didn’t take. Again.

“They wouldn’t listen to me. Our whole world is coming to an end.”

They cried on the porch. Johnathan slowly rocking the porch swing. Martha’s toes scraping the ground. They both sobbed quietly. They said goodbye to another hoped-for miracle of modern science. Another dream-baby lost. They mourned together for as long as they could. Eventually, Johnathan stood. He needed something to do. He walked out to the barn. He was going to take something apart so that he could put it back together. Martha went inside. They both needed some time alone.

“It’s too late for us, but it’s not too late for him. We can’t wait much longer.”

They came back together that evening. They ate and sat on the porch watching the sunset. They sat and talked about what they lost, about the timing of the next transfer, about how many frozen dream-babies they had left. Martha wondered if she was broken. Johnathan wondered if he was being punished. They stayed up until the stars came out.

Just before the doomed planet, Krypton, exploded to fragments, a scientist placed his infant son within an experimental rocket-ship, launching it toward earth!

Jonathan and Martha watched the sky, looking for answers.