Getting ready for our upcoming nuptuals means running around like a lunatic at the last minute. We are so busy handling all the last minute details that we barely have time to breathe, let alone think about what we’re “going through”.
In the midst of all the wedding errands, we got a bit of reprieve when we picked up the best man at the airport. Craig is one of our very best friends, and he is one of the few we decided we were ready to tell about this “issue”. The main reason we felt Craig should be one of the first to know is because he is one of those incredibly shiny people who seems to stay strong and happy no matter what is happening around him. He’s a rare gem, a man who can actually handle hearing about this without falling apart or succumbing to “oh, you poor thing” thinking.
Michel and Craig are best friends, and Michel needs a shoulder to lean on right now. Craig not only won the job of best man, he also won the job of best shoulder to lean on.
So, before we picked him up at the airport, Craig already knew about “our diagnosis” and he was ready to deliver exactly what we both needed…a warm and comforting bear hug.
He was ready with smiles, laughter, and general good humor to help brighten our day considerably. And I was most amazed that he never once gave me “the look” I’m dreading. The look of “you poor thing” that I can’t stand to see under any circumstances.
See, Craig understands that for me to get through this, the last thing I need is pity. I need smiles, happy moments, jokes at my expense, and an understanding that I want…no, I NEED…to remain positive and to stay in my Happy Place.
My body needs positive thoughts, not negative ones. I need strength, and to stay strong, I need to stay positive no matter what.
Thank God for heroes like Craig!
So you can well imagine how awful I felt when later in the evening I broke down and bawled like a baby because of something Craig said. He happened to mention, in passing, about the fact that Michel and I were planning on having a baby in a couple of years.
Craig had no idea that one of the problems with having breast cancer is that being pregnant again in the future would be potentially dangerous for me. Apparently, the rise in estrogen levels from pregnancy could lead to a recurrence of breast cancer, so the doctor advised that we avoid the risk of a future pregnancy.
So when Craig mentioned “baby” in our conversation, I fell apart. The impact of how great a loss we were experiencing struck me like a ton of bricks, and it took every ounce of strength in me to regain control of my emotions.
Poor Craig apologized profusely, and in between hitching sobs and gasping breath, I did my best to make Craig feel better about it. I found myself apologizing for my tears, and Craig kept reassuring me that it was perfectly fine.
But no matter what, the fact remains that I have lost my window of opportunity for ever having another child, and there just isn’t anything “OK” about it.
At 36 years old, a relatively young woman, I am “past my prime” and having more children is just not possible for me and Michel.
He has a 21 year old adopted daughter from his previous marriage, and I have my three teens, and that is as big as our family is going to get. Michel will never be able to have a baby of his own, and dammit, that isn’t fair.
He is a wonderful father to my kids and to his daughter, and if any man qualified as father of the year…he certainly would. I can’t imagine anyone who would make a better dad than this man.
But because he loves me, he is willing to forego his chance at paternity and settle for being a dad to kids who did not start out as his own.
I am the luckiest woman in the world to be marrying the most selfess, loyal, loving, caring man on the planet.
He is my biggest hero, and I am his biggest fan…