I saw it in Nicole’s face right away. I heard it in her voice.

This was not the phone call we anticipated.

This was not the phone call we wanted. The call after which, we hoped, we would exchange wide, teary-eyed expressions and embrace with relief at finally reaching this point. The point where we now knew for certain that in nine months we’d welcome a new little human into the world.

This was not that phone call.

“No?” I asked, my voice near to cracking, as she ended the call. She looked at me and shook her head.

The tears came fast and fierce.

We collapsed into each other’s arms, clinging to each other, flailing against the reality that had just manifested itself upon our lives: Nicole was not pregnant.

There are no words I can write to adequately describe what we were feeling.

After eight long, emotionally charged months, we finally had received our answer.

And it was no.

For now, at least.

We still have two embryos frozen in a lab waiting for a second (and possibly third) go. As this process is our only option for having kids of our own, it’s a given we will try again.