Writing the stories we hesitate to tell

by Kate Laack

The first message came 72 hours after the release of my second novel, While the Coin is in the Air. “Dear Mrs. Laack,” it read. “You probably don’t remember me, but I was in your class very briefly before I transferred schools in 2018…I wanted to reach out and say thank you for writing about the difficult topic of infertility…the knowledge that there are books out there about women going through my similar situation is helpful in itself.” 

Then came the reviews: “As someone who has navigated my own journey with infertility, I approached this book with caution, knowing it could be triggering. What I didn’t expect was how deeply it would resonate with me…” 

My second novel was never intended to be a sequel to my first, but it was always going to be a story about what came next. In the Shade of Olive Trees is about heartbreak, healing, and, ultimately, finding love again. While the Coin is in the Air is the story of building the life that comes once the wedding bells have faded. Everyone loves a whirlwind romance. But what about the hard work of maintaining a marriage and growing a family? 

At 37 years old, I know that work personally. In ten years of marriage, I’ve done every stereotypical thing society (and social media) has expected me to do. I had the wedding, built the career, got the graduate degree, bought the house, adopted the dog, took the Instagram-worthy international vacations. I published two books and ran four marathons–just for good measure.  

The only thing missing from my, otherwise stellar, Millennial resume is children. And it sometimes feels like the thing that really matters. 

 When I meet someone new, the first question is almost always the same: “Do you have kids?” Sometimes it’s phrased as “How many kids do you have?” as though the answer is already yes. I recently got a pedicure where the woman doing my nails asked some version of that question four different times, four different ways, in forty-five minutes.

When I say no, the conversation stalls. Had I said yes, we could’ve talked about schools, activities, milestones, or shared parenting chaos. There would have been an easy camaraderie born of a common experience. Without it, they have to ask about just me. They have to care about just me. And often, they don’t know how.

So the most common follow-up question is, “Why not?” As in, Why haven’t you participated in this most basic human experience? How are we going to connect if you haven’t done this thing that’s supposed to define womanhood, family, adulthood?

It’s an isolating experience to answer no to that question and to navigate the silence that follows. Even more isolating is how many people don’t want to talk about the why. Not really. That emotional tension—the ache, the ambiguity, the collision of hope and biology and waiting—that’s the story I set out to write. That’s why While the Coin is in the Air exists.

To a certain extent, it’s also the who the book is for. I wanted to offer insight and compassion to the people who ask the question of children with unintentional brazenness. But even more than that, I wanted to tell the story for the women who hesitate before answering. The ones who stumble over their words or sit in the awkward silence that follows. The ones who say “no…but…” or “yes…but…” or “not yet…” and carry everything those ellipses hold. I wrote it for the women still holding space for hope, or healing, or grief, or something they’re not even sure how to name.

I know these women. My sister and brother-in-law adopted my nephew from foster care. I have dear friends who have waited years for adoption after enduring a long road of medical tests and diagnoses. I have friends who have used sperm donors, others who’ve navigated IVF and suffered miscarriages. Still others have announced they don’t want kids, and some have shared proudly they got pregnant the first time they tried. It was not fiction when I wrote this observation of my main character: “Slowly, Harper was coming to understand that there was no script and no right way and no one answer.” Every story carries its own joy and ache, its own nuance, its own silence.

You know these women too. You are these women, in your own story or someone else’s. 

I wrote While the Coin is in the Air because I know how important it is to see real stories represented. For women to see themself not as afterthoughts or cautionary tales, but as human beings navigating the rich and heartbreaking complexities of life. Even when it’s messy. Even when we don’t quite know how to talk about it. 

Representation matters. That truth is reflected in those very first emails and reviews. They weren’t about plot twists or pretty sentences. They were about resonance. About recognition. About being seen.

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Kate Laack is wife to Josh, high school English teacher, theater director, runner, and published author. Her two novels, In the Shade of Olive Trees and While the Coin are in the Air, deal with relationships, hope, and the shared humanity of our challenges. At Calvary, she serves as a pianist with the music ministry team and enjoys time with her small group and conversations over a cup of (decaf) coffee.