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Contact Admin. O ur son was conceived on a trip out to Montana on a mound of cracked dirt under a badland sky. She smiled and told me she was ovulating. I looked around nervously even though I was sure we were the only human beings for miles.
There was a bison herd in the distance, small dark-brown shapes clustered on the plain we had just trekked across. My mind lingered back to the large bull sleeping on the trail that we had to circumnavigate.
I turned my head back to my wife. Her tan legs and bare shoulders looked good to me. We fulfilled our biological imperative out in the open under a blazing sun. The circumstances were neither comfortable nor romantic, but I, at least, finished relieved of the tension of a nine-hour car ride the day before. I stood and hurriedly hitched my pants up, surveying the countryside again as Emily got herself together. Whenever we had sex now, I wondered if we had made a baby. I was ready for it, or at least I thought so, as ready as I was ever going to be.
Living for just ourselves had become boring. We enjoyed having the freedom and money to travel and eat in nice restaurants whenever we felt like it.
But I think we had reached the point where it had become somehow unfulfilling. My wife wanted a baby and I wanted to give her one. We climbed up an eroded bank and found ourselves looking at a vast prairie. We followed the trail along a ridge.