Seven

                                    

                                          
"It's so frustrating!"
                          
I kicked some litter on the ground as I walked with Inez.
                          
"I've tried everything! I've tried laying with my legs in the air afterwards. I've tried plugging myself with a tampon which hurts as fuck when you aren't bleeding. Anything to keep the sperm from going out. Anything to get pregnant, but it's been a year and it's not happening."
                          
Inez wrapped her arm around mine, making us both stop before she grabbed both of my arms and turned me to face her.
                          
"I heard about this couple that tried for a child for ten years before it finally happened."
                          
My expression dropped.
                          
"Was that supposed to cheer me up?" I laughed. "In ten years, I'll be turning forty and our oldest will be twenty-three while our youngest will be turning sixteen. That would be too late for us to have a baby. It would be like starting over and I don't know if I in ten years, would have enough energy for a newborn."
                          
Inez chuckled.
                          
"How about getting your eggs checked as well as his sperm?"
                          
"That's what we're doing." I nodded. "We have an appointment on Friday."
                          
"Good. I'm sure it's nothing." She assured me and wrapped her arm around my neck, leading the way into the tailor's shop.
                          
Fred was standing on the platform, getting his body measured for a suit. He was George's best man. Every groomsman had their body measured for a suit that was being made specifically for them.
                          
"Hey." He smiled when he saw us. "Glad you showed up. Standing like this can get quite boring if I have no one to talk to."
                          
I folded my arms over my chest.
                          
"Will the suit be ready to be picked up by the beginning of August?" I asked the tailor, also known as Jim.
                          
He looked up to see who spoke before he continued measuring Fred.
                          
"August sixth, right?" He asked.
                          
"Yes."
                          
"Perhaps." He said. "Your fiancé has paid an extra free to hurry up the process but I can't promise anything."
                          
I then looked at Fred.
                          
"I told you and George to get this fixed back in March."
                          
"We got distracted."
                          
"For four months?" I asked. "Fred, there is four weeks and two days until George and I are getting married and you need a suit. You can't just stand there in a pair of sweatpants and a jumper with your initial on it."
                          
"Oi!" He exclaimed. "Don't diss mama Weasley's famous Christmas jumpers."
                          
"Don't mind her." Inez said. "Dahlia is stressed."
                          
"I am not." I argued, folding my arms over my chest.
                          
"What's stressing you out?" Fred asked. "The wedding?"
                          
"Aren't weddings always the reason the bride is stressing?" Inez asked, and Fred chuckled, nodding in agreement. "But this time I think it's more due to the many negative tests she's had to look at."
                          
"I'm sure I'm infertile." I said. "Which sucks because there is nothing I want more than to have a child with George."
                          
"Well, how are you doing it?" He asked, causing me to frown.
                          
"I'm not gonna tell you how we have sex."
                          
He let out a small laugh and shook his head.
                          
"Are you trying while you're ovulating?"