by Lee Anne Johnston
“I’m pregnant,” my sister announced dramatically. My husband and I had gotten together with Christine and her brood to carve the pumpkin. We have done this every year since she had began producing children, four children ago.
I felt sucker punched. Why was it so easy for her to pop out these adorable babies who turned into adorable toddlers then children, when Steve and I had tried every method under the sun to conceive. Frozen sperm, frozen eggs, IVF, ICSI, IUI, cryotherapy. Acupuncture. You name it, we had endured every indignity under the sun to pursue that elusive pregnancy. My husband had even produced a fresh sample in a Hamilton Tim Hortons’ bathroom for sperm count analysis at McMaster. And now my sister so cheerfully, gleefully, positively GLORYING in her fecundity.
It just was not fair a voice inside me screamed. I wanted to grab the god-damned pumpkin and smash it into her face!
“And who is the father this time?” I asked innocently.
That is how I ended up with my face stuck inside the pumpkin.
Lee Anne is a prose writer and has been a member of the CWC Since 2008. Her love of writing started when she learned to read as a young child. She holds a BA and an MA in English from the University of Toronto. One of Lee Anne’s current works in progress is a Victorian piece set in the City of Cambridge. It is chock full of drama, rich language and time period references. Lee Anne currently lives in Cambridge with her husband and daughter.