Fuck you and your "we just had a baby a week ago!" I'm happy for you - I genuinely am. But I can't bring myself to say it, because I feel like by saying it, I'm saying everything is okay and I'm okay. I'm NOT okay, and everything else is NOT okay either. Have you even noticed that I haven't said congratulations, haven't said a word to either of you since your baby was born, haven't even clicked "Like" on any of your Facebook posts since then, whether they had anything to do with babies or not? Probably not, because you're closer to my wife than you are to me, so you know how this is affecting or likely affecting her, but I doubt you ever give much thought to me or how I may feel about this. Whatever. You're both wonderful people and you'll make wonderful parents; we've had many great times together in the past, and I'm sure there will come a day that we'll have great times together again. But until our situation is resolved one way or another, I'm glad that you live several hundred miles away, because I don't want to be anywhere around you. I don't trust myself not to say something that we'll all regret.
Fuck you and your breathtakingly tactless "OMG I'm pregnant!" text. I don't hate you for it, and I don't even fault you for it that much, as it's not your job to remember the extensive medical histories of all of your friends in the heat of what I'm sure is some of the most exciting news of your life. I'd be a lot angrier about it if you HAD remembered and said what you said anyway. I'd be a lot angrier about it if we were closer friends with you, too. But we're not, so you're not worth my time and energy to spend worrying and fussing over - God knows I've got enough ELSE to worry and fuss about. Again, I am genuinely happy for you both, and I don't wish either of you ill. This doesn't even mean that we can't be friends anymore... eventually. But for now, I'm not watching you or your husband anymore on FA. I don't want to see the happy "OMG!" journal posts, I don't want to see the heartwarming pregnancy art that will inevitably start popping up on your page more and more. You've already done art like that in the past; I could abide it when I knew there wasn't anything but wishing behind it. But not now. Fuck yeah, we're not coming to Chicago because of your announcement; I'm glad you're several hundred miles away too, because I don't want to be anywhere near you now either. I'll watch you again and talk to you again when we're in a better place than we are now. But not now.
Fuck you and your "we just had our third baby a year ago, and now we're pregnant againandwe'rehavingourfirstgirlafterthreeboysandwe'resoexcitedwhere'smycongratulations?!" I don't want to listen to you talking to your pregnant wife on the phone about Rhea Lana sales and comparing car seat features. I appreciate your tact when you first told me that you're pregnant again - for whatever reason you were tactful then. But you seem to have forgotten that since then, whether through honest forgetfulness or because my answers to your probing questions led you to believe there was no need to be tactful after all. I ducked your questions because, frankly, it's none of your damn business, and I have enough trouble with the people knowing that already do know what's going on with us. I cannot work 40+ hours a week trapped in the back corner of an office, four feet and an unobtrusive cloth barrier away from someone who knows. You're a good guy, but you can be damn well sure that the MINUTE I hear that a private office is opening up around here, I'm going to our boss and campaigning to be the one that gets it. I have AT LEAST four years of seniority above you and everyone else that doesn't have a private office on our team, and if I never had to listen to your phone calls with your wife again, that would make me only too happy.
Fuck you and your "I'm gonna be a daddy for the first time in August! *expectant pause for praise & adulation*" I'm glad you don't work here anymore. I can't even TELL you how glad I am that you started your new position at the start of August, two weeks before your wife was due, so that I never had to hear the birth announcement and see the newborn photos and meet the new baby when you inevitably bring her by the office. You're a brilliant programmer and a good guy and we did some great things, work-wise, when working together. But either you don't have a fucking social clue, or I was doing a shitty job at sending "shut up & go away" signals, or some combination of the two, because your attempts at conversation and being all buddy-buddy were annoying BEFORE you ever told me you & your wife were expecting. You were fine to work with, but I do NOT want to be your coding or gaming or general geeking buddy. You told me that you started having surgeries for health issues when you were 2 or 3 years old, but you evidently didn't have any trouble getting your wife pregnant. I was in perfect health and had never had ANY health issues until I was diagnosed with this shit last year - what the fucking bloody hell is wrong with me?!? Now I'm doubly glad that you left, because that allowed me to take over your position, to get more pay with less stress and to get away from being forced into working with one of the very few people on this earth who seem to have a genuine personal hatred of me. I don't know if she's ever been pregnant - probably not, she's married to her job - but fuck her too, just for good measure.
I have my next fucking semen analysis in the morning. I had begun wishing on Sunday night that I could just fast forward to 9:30am tomorrow morning, because by that point, the last two super-stressful work days would be over, as would this appointment that I REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEALLY don't want to do. As much as I don't want to do this, though, I don't want to NOT do it even more. The appointment is the easy part; it's the potential of the results that's really the source of the anxiety. But I have to know the results. WE have to know the results. Once the appointment is finally done, my heart is going to be leaping into my throat every time my cell phone rings, for fear that it's the clinic calling. I'm just praying HARD for good results, valid results, and very good news. Please, God... at this point, that's really all up to You.
I don't hate any of these folks above. I don't resent them for having what we don't. I won't even say "for having what we can't," because "can't" implies that I believe we never will, and I haven't given up hope on that yet. I'm just hurting, and venting, and isn't it better to let it out in a journal entry that you know none of them will ever read, rather than lashing out and hurting people directly?
There's a book that I've mentioned on here before... Donald Miller's "To Own a Dragon." It's a book about fatherlessness, and the title comes from young Don wondering what it would be like "to own a dragon." But dragons only exist in fantasy novels; they're always a part of someone else's story, but not your own. Donald likened that to wondering what it would be like to have a father - if you grow up fatherless, as I did, then a "father" is a mythological being too, and always a part of someone else's story but not your own. When I hear about or think about folks getting pregnant around us, that strikes exactly the same chord within me that the father thing does. I know that fathers exist; I know that they're NOT mythological creatures. But the idea of having a father is like reading a fantasy story to me. I know that pregnancies happen; I know that they're NOT impossible, and hopefully soon not even impossible for us. I do still hope & believe that we will get there sooner than later. But after the last year, imagining the idea of myself as biological father to a child feels pretty much exactly the same as imagining the idea of myself as a knight in King Arthur's Court. That sounds like I've given up on the idea ever becoming reality, which is not at all true. But that's the feeling that I struggle with now.
Perspective reminder: Tomorrow's test & subsequent results are not the end of the world. They're not the end of the road on this IF journey, either. But they do go a long way towards deciding what turn this road takes next. Also, whether or not you have kids does not define you. A man is judged by his own choices, his own actions, and his own heart - not by whether or not he had a kid and what the kid did or didn't do. I'm still going to be the best damn husband and the best human being I can be, no matter what ultimately happens with the "having kids" question. And while "loving father" is something that I'd dearly love to see on my tombstone, the rest of my life is not going to be overwritten by "couldn't have kids" if it doesn't happen. But the hugeness of how this feels right now, and the depth of the desire motivating all of these choices over the last year, really cannot be overstated.
We need You, God. I need You. Please... please may this have all been worth it.
No comments:
Post a Comment