Sally was staring into her coffee trying to sort out what she wanted to do next. She was at a truck stop at the edge of town that she had barely known existed a few weeks ago. Though it was pretty big, with a large diner and even showers available for the long-haulers, it just wasn’t the type of place she usually went. Sally and her husband, Phil, were affluent suburbanites. Though she wasn’t the type to stick her nose up and think she’s too good for anyone or anyplace, she felt pretty out of place here.
She took another small bite of the Boston cream pie she’d ordered. At least it tasted good. Probably for the best that’s what she got, she was clearly out of her mind having any other thoughts.
Sally was 41 years old, and though she was starting to soften a bit, she took very good care of herself. She was wearing an expensive beige blazer and a chic pencil cut skirt that came down to her knees. Her sandy blond hair was pulled into a bun, that was just tight enough to declare it as put together without looking severe. Her makeup was light and tasteful, just enough to accentuate everything beautiful about her. The overall impression was perfection. She may not be the hot blonde she had been in college, but was still turning heads.
The problem was whose head she wasn’t turning. No, that wasn’t fair. Phil still paid her plenty of attention, but only on a schedule. Specifically, a schedule that didn’t match when she was ovulating. Three years of experience showed a clear pattern.
Sally had already been worried that she might be getting too old, but she really wanted a child. She’d talked to Phil, and after a couple months, Phil said “OK”. So, with his blessing, Sally went off the pill. They’d always had an active sex life, so she expected to get knocked up quick, assuming that they were both healthy. She was so excited. She wanted a child, but she was also turned on by the thought of those sperm swimming in to fertilize her. For awhile it was like a dream of taboo lust. Every time they had sex she would take him deep inside and imagine that cream deep inside and wonder if this would be the time. No sperm found her egg.
After 8 months of not getting pregnant that Sally started getting serious about trying. Step one was to start tracking her cycle. She looked up exactly when she’d be most fertile, only to find that for several days surrounding that time, Phil was unavailable. He was traveling for work, or wasn’t feeling well, or was just staying up late doing other things. What could have been normal one-offs started to build a pattern. It started to look like he was actively avoiding impregnating her.
Another 8 months like this and Sally finally confronted Phil, saying she was going to post her ovulation times, and expected him to be there. It didn’t go well. Phil said she was stressing him out, and that it should just happen naturally. But it didn’t. She kept track, and even with her best efforts, over the next 2 years they’d only had sex 3 times during her potentially fertile days.