“I want to have another child.”
He stared at me.
I was sixty at the time.
Thomas was sixty-seven.
“Margaret,” he whispered, “do you hear what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
“Is this because of Emily?”
I shook my head immediately.
“No child could ever replace her. Ever. But I have this feeling inside me that I need to try.”
Thomas stayed silent for a long time.
Then he reached across the table and took my hand.
“If we do this, we do it together.”
Even finding a doctor willing to evaluate me was difficult.
Several clinics refused immediately because of my age.
Finally, we found a specialist who agreed to carefully examine my health before making any decision.
The tests seemed endless.
Blood tests.
Heart tests.
Kidney function tests.
Hormone tests.
