Chapter 16: Ernie

During the next few weeks, my life continued to improve.

Our life stabilized, and we experienced ‘normal’ worries like raising prices, and financial concerns.

We both immersed ourselves in our routines, I joined the church choir, too, and we both started attending the Sunday services. We reconnected with neighbors and friends. Birthdays and special occasions, once again, filled our calendar.

We had set an appointment with a counselor to talk about having a baby. I wanted to be a father, but I was also scared how it would affect Carrie’s sobriety.

The counselor’s office was a bland, sterile space, but the woman seated behind the desk was anything but. Dr. Evans, as her nameplate read, had a warm, inviting smile that did little to quell the knot of anxiety in my stomach.

Carrie sat beside me, her hand resting gently on mine. I squeezed it reassuringly, trying to convey a sense of calm that I was far from feeling.

“So, you’re here because you’re considering having a child,” Dr. Evans began, her voice soft and measured.

I nodded, my throat feeling tight. “Yes, that’s right.”

“And you’re having some reservations?” she asked, her eyes focused on me.

I hesitated, not wanting to hurt Carrie’s feelings. “Well, Carrie’s been sober for seven months now, and I’m incredibly proud of her progress. But...” I trailed off, unsure how to continue.

Carrie squeezed my hand again, a silent encouragement to be honest.

“But?” Dr. Evans prompted gently.

“I’m worried about the stress of a newborn, and ... I’m afraid of relapse,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

Carrie’s hand tightened around mine. I could feel her hurt, but I knew I had to be honest.

“That’s a lot to take in,” Dr. Evans said, her tone understanding. “It’s understandable to have concerns. Can you tell me more about these fears?”

I took a deep breath. “I love Carrie more than anything, and I want to give her the world. But I’m terrified of failing her as a partner, and even more so as a parent. And the fear of her relapsing ... it’s a constant undercurrent.”

Carrie’s eyes filled with tears. I squeezed her hand, offering silent comfort.

Dr. Evans nodded, her expression compassionate. “It’s clear that you both care deeply about each other. And it’s also clear that you’re facing a significant decision.”

She turned to my wife. “Carrie, how are you feeling about all of this?”

Carrie took a deep breath. “I’m scared, too,” she admitted. “I’m scared of not being a good mother. And I’m terrified of losing Ernie if I slip up. On the other hand, I’m over thirty and my bio clock is ticking.”

Dr. Evans listened patiently, her face a mask of empathy. When Carrie finished, she turned back to me. “It sounds like you both are experiencing a lot of fear and uncertainty. And that’s completely normal.”

She paused, letting the weight of their words settle. “Fear is a powerful emotion, and it’s often rooted in what we imagine might happen, rather than what actually will. It’s important to remember that you’re both coming from a place of love and wanting the best for each other and a potential child.”