Page 115 of Say My Name

“You brought office supplies,” she says, her voice dry enough to sand wood.

“I brought questions”—all the ones I’ve been turning over for weeks.

“That notebook has dividers.”

“Four of them.”

Her mouth presses into a line, but I catch the slight pull at one corner. “Of course it does.”

That last negative result is still running through my head when the doctor comes in with Elena’s file and takes the chair across from us.

“I’ve reviewed the updated bloodwork and your tracking from the last several months,” the doctor says, tapping the cover of the file. “I know five months can feel like a long time when every cycle has a specific goal attached to it, but you are still well within the normal range.”

Elena’s spine loosens by a fraction.

I notice because I notice everything about her now: the tension in her shoulders, how she twists the ring on her right hand when she’s worried, and the controlled breath she takes before asking a question she has probably rehearsed all morning.

“So there’s nothing in the results that concerns you?” she asks.

“Nothing that suggests you should be concerned at this stage.”

Elena nods, already filing the answer into whatever private system she uses to keep hope from becoming expectation.

“What would improve our chances?” I ask.

Her head turns toward me.

The doctor answers, oblivious to the word that made Elena turn toward me. “Based on the timing records you provided, increasing frequency during the fertile window would be the simplest adjustment. You’ve been very precise, but conception doesn’t always reward precision as efficiently as we’d like.”

“That feels personally insulting,” Elena murmurs, and the corner of her mouth twitches. I’d trade a board seat for that expression.

“Biology often is.”

I open my notebook.

Elena glances down. “You’re taking notes on this.”

“Yes.”

“I thought those were intimidation tabs.”

“They can serve two purposes.”

That earns me a real smile before she turns back to the doctor. The knot in my chest eases with it.

“How much should we increase the frequency?” I ask.

“Every day or every other day through the fertile window would give you more coverage. You don’t need to limit yourselves to the single day you believe is optimal.”

Elena’s cheeks warm. She keeps her expression composed, although we both know precision stopped being our only justification months ago.

I write down the recommendation, my pen moving over the page. This is the real question I came to ask. “Can stress interfere enough that we should change our work schedules?”

Elena’s pen pauses above her notebook.

“Severe or prolonged stress can affect sleep, hormones, and general health, but ordinary work stress does not mean you’ve caused these negative results,” the doctor says. “Focus on rest and consistency rather than trying to eliminate every demanding day.”

“So we don’t need to clear our calendars entirely.”