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…