Women Who Stay, 11

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Janie fiddled with her coffee cup, worrying its cardboard sleeve.

"By that time, I was so fond of him. And fonder still with the idea of a child. Our child." Her voice shifted between affection and anger. "It's not like I enjoyed the sex either. I found it hideously invasive. But it didn't affect me so much as him. He... withdrew. Like a snail in a shell. He stopped speaking with me. Stopped bringing me gifts. And the morning after the third attempt, he wouldn't get out of bed. I called his work and said he had the flu.

"That worked for, oh, three days. And then the weekend came, and still, he wouldn't move. Not even to shower or feed himself. I trickled water down his throat and just prayed he wouldn't choke on it. That Sunday I called his parents in a panic, and Monday morning they carried him off to the doctor. He didn't come home for eight weeks." She stared at the playground, where a cluster of children shrieked with laughter. "By which time, it was clear I still wasn't pregnant."

"Did you consider leaving him?"

"Not with sincerity. When he was in the hospital, I felt lonely for the first time in my life. The apartment felt like a cavern. I was just a little bat, rattling blindly around. I'd become accustomed to him, to having him there, and I missed him. It surprised me.

"When he came back, he assured me it had been a fluke. Nothing to do with sex. More fool me, I wanted to believe it, so I did. But then things would start to feel normal again, and the lack of a child would grow and grow within me. So I'd press the issue, and he'd go away for a week or so. Get his head straight. Rinse and repeat."

"You saw the pattern, right?"

"Of course. We discussed it. I told him 'Look, I like being your wife, but I need a baby. That's the cost. If getting what I want means losing you for a few weeks, rather than losing you entirely, I'll take it. How about you?'"

"What did he say?"

"That's the funny thing, he agreed every time. He wanted a baby, too. And he wanted to keep me as his wife." She altered her voice, pitching it gruffly. "'If that's the cost, I'll pay it,' he said." It was uncannily similar to the recording I'd seen of Antonio at Second Story.

"But how did he keep his job at the Bureau?" I asked. "If he was in and out of an institution so frequently, I can't imagine they were happy about that."

"We got smarter. We timed our attempts with the holiday season, or he scheduled longer vacations around my ovulation cycle. And finally, finally, it worked. I gave birth to Jacob in 1974."

"How did you adjust to becoming parents?"

She shrugged. "Smoothly enough. Jacob was an easy baby, nothing like his siblings. Hardly ever fussed. Took to the breast from the second he was born. He was such a joy in my life." I noted the intense sadness that weighed down those words. "But it did change things between us. We drifted, Antonio and me. I hadn't realized how much of our... companionship was driven by me. By the attention I paid him. And with Jacob, who needed so much from me, I had almost nothing left over to give Antonio. To meet his needs.

"At least, that's what I told myself. In truth, I don't think I ever could have fully satisfied him. "

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Read on to Chapter 12