During the month of August we spent some time on the island of Sardinia to get away from daily life, with no interruptions. One item on our list of questions was whether or not to try IVF again or just call it quits on the whole thing. One day we were sitting on the beach and discussed the matter in great length and depth. Our conclusion was to keep trying, feeling real peace about it.
The following day after making our decision we ventured over to another beach town just a few more miles by bus from our usual place in Alghero. It just so happens to be called “Fertilia” and yes, we chuckled about the name as we rode the bus. It was given the name Fertilia by the Romans who were avid water lovers and found this place to be very healing.
It’s super hot in Fertilia, around 100 degrees F, and the beach is far from the bus stop… We’re walking on hot asphalt to get there and by the time I get there I am probably on the edge of heat exhaustion. Jumping into the delicious water didn’t even entice my tired body. The hubbs jumped right in while I slowly waded into the water, totally exhausted. We swam for a bit and then I found a rock to hide under so I could take a delirious nap.
The hubbs woke me up to let me know he was going for a run (he’s a machine). He left everything and took off with only wearing running shoes and shorts. His last words to me were, “the bus tickets are in my wallet, let’s meet at the bus station at 7:30.” I fall back asleep and wake up around 6:30. Everything is foggy and my mind is pretty relaxed after suffering from heat torture. I gather our belongings and walk slowly back to the center of the town. I passed by a gelato stand and stopped to order my all time favorite, chocolate. It was about 7:25 when I reached the bus station.
As I sat on the bench under the palm tree, enjoying the cold gelato, the sky filled with sunset colors; orange yellow, purple and pink. The hubbs is usually 10 minutes late to everything so it didn’t bother me at all that by 7:40 he hadn’t yet arrived. 7:45 comes and the bus which would take us back to our city arrived, but still no hubby in sight. The bus pulls away and I’m sitting there on the bench next to two very old Italian men who begin to look at me with wonder since I didn’t get on the bus.
8:00 no hubbs. Where is he? He said to meet at the bus stop at 7:30 and I was there! Immediately I start to shed some tears since I know that when he left, he carried nothing with him; no wallet, id, cell phone, or money.
8:10 no hubbs. The two older men begin to ask me if I need any help but all I can do is dancer sign language since I do not speak Italian.
8:15 no hubbs. My imagination runs wild: 1. he’s fallen off a cliff while running and is floating in the sea 2. he’s been hit by a car and is at some hospital somewhere 3. he was kidnapped and his being held captive in the back of a van somewhere 4. he got lost and is trying to hitchhike back to Fertilia. All this and more ran like storyboards through my mutilated mind.
8:20 no hubbs. I search our phone for outgoing calls to find the phone # of a local guy we’d met a few days before. I find it, I call him… he picks up. “Pronto?” he says. Thankfully he speaks a little English and figures out that I am trying to ask him to come to Fertilia.
8:30 no hubbs, but Mario shows up in his car. 8:30 Mario takes off in his car to search for the hubbs leaving me by myself with the two dear older men who still try to talk to me.
8:45 Mario returns, no hubbs.
8:50 We go to the police station which is closed (?) but we ring the bell anyway. A voice comes out of the speaker and Mario explains to the metal box the situation. After he finishes all we hear is silence. Mario rings again. Again the voice says, “Pronto?”, and Mario asks the voice in the metal box to help us. The voice responds in Italian, “I can’t hear you.” and hangs up.
8:55 no hubbs. more tears. a very angry Mario at the stupidity of the police. The two old men ask us what happened at the police station and the three Italians begin chatting loudly about politics. I sit back down on the bench and had this thought pass through my mind, no joke: Well that does it. All is going well until today. We made it through our grief and are ready to try again, BUT, the day after we decide to continue trying for children I lose my husband in a stupid accident of some sort and am left here in FERTILIA of all places, an infertile widow. I know, it’s stupid. But really, I was freaking out and trying to keep my mind under control.
9:00 the cell phone rings. “Where are you???” the hubbs says. “Me??? Where are you?” I respond. Turns out, he jogged all the way back to Alghero from Fertilia and the bus station we were supposed to meet at was the one there, not the one in Fertilia. “I’m at the bus stop in Alghero,” he says. “Stay there! I’ll be there in 10 minutes!!!” I shout and hang up. I tell the men what’s going on and Mario tells me to get in the car. One of the old men comes up to me and gestures & tells me that when I see my husband to give him a big whack across the head with the cell phone he should have had with him. I laugh, say I will, shake his hand, and then jump in Mario’s car.
9:10 Reunited with my dirty, shirtless, wallet-less, cell phone-less hubby. Turns out he was desperately trying for 45 minutes to borrow a phone from someone to call me but people ignored him since he was the weird sweaty shirtless guy walking around a posh Mediterranean town on a Friday night with nothing but running shorts and sneakers. The image still makes me crack up.
9:11 We don’t argue over who was right and who said what/where. We’re just so happy to see each other, and that each of us was alive, that nothing else matters.