"Girl," Lucy muttered under her breath."Can we please get this book club meeting started?"
"Yes," I chimed in because I was surely done with this.
Sadly, I had contemplated on not coming to book club because I didn't want to hear her mouth or get her judgments.Then, I thought more about it and decided I could give a fuck.
"Yes, yes.Let's get this going."Denise urged us."But first, look at my daughter's pictures from her recital.She's so cute."
A small pang hit my chest as I thought about watching another picture with somebody else's kid.Yeah, they were all cute and adorable, but I would never have that.I stopped praying about it, stopped dreading the reality, stopped dreaming and just stopped everything.I didn't want to see kids at the park, little babies with their fingers around their parent’s fingers, billboards with parents holding their beautiful kids, or the stupid social media post with all the cute shit some miniature adult did.
Bitter?
Sure or I just came to terms with my reality.I could not have a child, and I'd rather not have that shit thrown in my face every goddamn day.
I exhaled and said, "If we're not going to be able to discuss this book that I spent all last night reading then I'll just see y'all next time."
Throwing my paperback book in my bag, I gathered my jacket and was ready to stand when Denise interjected, “No, no.You're right.Let's do this.Just because I'd rather stay here than go home to my asshole of a husband, don't mean everybody else does.”
Everyone started laughing including me, so I settled back down so we could start the official book club meeting.It went like every other meeting.Stephanie and Jewels started arguing over the interpretation, Denise tried to be the peacemaker, and I sat back and enjoyed the club and its takeaway from my life.I enjoyed reading, so it was in my best interest to discuss the many books that I read to escape the mundane truth that plagued my mind on a daily basis.
As we were leaving, Lisa answered her phone and put it on speaker.
“Hey honey, how are you doing?”Lisa asked.
“Good,” the little girl said in her premature voice.“When are you coming home, mommy?”
“Oh baby, did Daddy feed you yet?I’m on my way home now, we just finished.”Lisa said.
“Yes, mommy.We ate but I miss you.When are you coming home?”The little girl asked.
My heart strung as I noticed the interaction and the love that crossed my book group partner’s face.The love she would receive from that child would last a lifetime.She’d remember these moments with her daughter, the calls, the learning how to tie a shoe, riding a bike, losing her first tooth, having her first date, standing and watching her get married.If she had something to give her on that special day, maybe a ring, broach, vintage car, earrings, recipes or even a special prayer; it would stay in the family and be treasured.That was the life I used to want.That was the life I envied.
Tears came to my eyes, but I quickly made haste to the exit of the house.
“See y’all next time,” I called back before my voice broke from emotion.
It had been nearly five years since my divorce and that damn thing still brought tears to my eyes.Not the actual separation from my ex-husband, but the entire situation around the drama.Calvin was a weak man, but I loved him.We took vows that stated through thick and thin and until death do us part, we would remain each other’s one and only.We made those vows before God and a bunch of other people, but the moment he realized I could not give him what he wanted, he broke them.Gave me divorce papers and told me it wasn’t fair that he could not pursue his dream of having children.
Calvin and I met during my last year in college.My final semester included a senior seminar course that required an internship at one of the local unions in the city.It did not matter which union, but me and my ambitious, man-hungry self, knew that I could get one in the plumber’s union, the UA Local 285.It was providential because Calvin came in one day to make a claim, and I took him to the supervisor on duty.He noted how professional and pretty I was, and I’m sure I raised an eyebrow at the hulking plumber with his tool belt hanging low on his pants.Two years later, we were married, and two years after that, he divorced me.The man had always wanted kids.His damn proposal included, “Marry me so we can make pretty babies.”
Who knew I would not be able to bear children?Years and months of doctor’s visits, Calvin worked hard to pay the bills at home, and I worked double hard to screw his brains out, so I could get pregnant.After the fifth doctor declared that I was barren and that my ovulations problems included poor egg quality or female tube blockages and whatever else they said over the course of those two years.The result was that I could not have children.No matter what it was, all five doctors said, it was not happening.So, not only did I fail at bringing my husband children, I felt like I failed at life.
What’s a woman to do if she cannot bear kids?Hell, we were made to bear children.Our bodies were genetically crafted to carry a child, except me.
My entire world came crashing down in the doctor’s office.It was clear because Calvin had been tested several times as well and the problem was not him.It was little ‘ole me.The ride home was eerie, and the nights alone in bed were the same.It was no surprise that months later I received divorce papers at my job.
Of all the places, the bastard sent it to my place of employment.It was in that moment that I knew he was a coward and not the type of man I wanted to fight for.How could he not see that I failed at life and now, the nerve of him to act like I failed him?
For better or worse my ass.
I stayed in the bathroom sobbing for more than two hours with several people trying to console me through the stalls.It had to come out, the wretched screams of betrayal, hurt, pain, sorrow, and mourning.It wasn’t private, and in hindsight, I probably should have done it at home, but it needed to happen then.
After wiping my last tear, I inhaled, fixed my damp shirt full of tears and snot, stood up, and walked to the sink, so I could wash my face.I’d come to a decision.Well, several decisions.
I would never have children.
Therefore, I’d never get married.
Meaning, I would only have superficial relationships with men that included nothing more than sex.