The Between Years

person we're bringing into the world.

    “ Maybe the day will come that we can have children again, but until then I can't feel like I'm being held hostage in the bedroom.”

    The comment elicited an ugly glare from Randy.

    “ You know exactly what I'm talking about, Randy.”

    Doctor Debra had allowed me so much time to vent my own feelings that I figured it would only be fair to let Randy express his, sans interruption.

    Randy said, “We were great parents, the two of us. I mean, there's a learning curve and people learn from their mistakes, but together I felt like there was nothing we couldn't do. Our family unit . . . We only had six months of being one, but in that time, I thought we had something more special than most. When Kenny died, I didn't want to feel like that had to be the end. There's always hope, right? We can have a second chance and it'll be brilliant.

    “ I just wish Carol could understand it that way, but she doesn't and for the life of me I don't understand why she's being so stubborn. I know so many couples who want children so badly and can't. Doesn't that sound awful?”

    Upon my next turn to speak, I noted that our physical ability to have children was irrelevant because a couple needed to have kids for the right reasons, and that I will gladly have another child if I happen to become pregnant. Randy said that I didn't need to take such extraordinary measures to make sure it didn't happen. Then I told him that he didn't need to take such extraordinary measures to make sure it did happen.

    We attended another session two weeks later in which our hearts were laid completely bare. In that session, I explained in explicit detail the problems that we were facing in the bedroom. Randy appeared to be trying not to cross his arms or shake his head as I spoke. I wanted to believe that he was still the paragon of maturity that he once was, and fortunately, he behaved. That Doctor Debra didn't look completely appalled was a pleasant surprise. I wanted to believe that the situation wasn't too strange and that we weren't that far gone.

    At the session's end, Dr. Debra rendered her first professional opinion on our situation. She said that Randy's vehement desire to be a father was admirable and that more people should have such a passion for parenting. However, she stressed that no spouse in any partnership should have to feel forced into any sexual situations. And, even if the partner consents to sex, it should always be on their terms. That meant that we should always use birth control and condoms if that's what I want.

    Randy nodded through her entire speech and neither agreed nor disagreed. I don't want to be presumptuous and say that he was thinking otherwise. I believe that he wanted to make a serious effort at patching up our problems.

    What mattered most to me was that neither of us was all right or all wrong. We both had reasons to be dissatisfied with one another and we both had areas that we needed to work on. We hadn't patched everything up yet, but at the very least we had a launching pad from which to start.

    If only Randy hadn't taken it so negatively. He seemed to believe that Doctor Debra had said that he was all wrong and that I was one hundred percent right. At least that was the first thing Randy said on the drive home. There had been days when he would at least glance at me while he was speaking, but he kept his eyes focused entirely on the road that time. If I'd been interested in an argument, I would have asked him what counselling session he'd been present for. But I didn't want a heated debate so I let it go.

    A few days later, Doctor Debra's secretary called to book a follow up appointment, but I didn't know about it for another week because Randy didn't bother to tell me. Let me rephrase that: Randy kept the information from me so we wouldn't have to make another appointment, or have to listen to any opinion that conflicted with his own.

    And it turned out to be a fairly slick move. I only found out about it because the secretary called a final time to ask if we would be returning. When confronted about it, Randy said, “What the hell does it matter? The woman's a quack!”

    “ She's a competent professional,” I said, “and I think she's been totally fair and unbiased about our relationship. You won't get that from a quack.”

    Randy added ground beef to a pot full of spaghetti sauce and stirred. “I just don't see how one woman's going to iron out all