Day +124 Regrets

I'm not exactly sure how to go about writing this since it's totally off topic from what this journal is supposed to be about. I've most likely been reading too much of Pete Rainford's blog since he has such an eloquent way of talking about life as it happens, and I publish the first draft of whatever garbage pops into my head. In fact, I blame Pete's magical wit for my latest dissatisfaction with my journal. I've caught myself reading his stuff and thinking "Wow, that's some good writing. how can I top that? But I keep reminding myself that, well, Peter Rainford is Peter Rainford and there's no sense in trying to out-write him. Pete, I love you man, but I just can't compete with your rapist wit (see Carrey, Jim - Dumb and Dumber).

I'm off the Prednesone now so my insomnia is not drug related. It happens to be baby related. Now, I've made no attempt to hide the fact that babies aren't my most favorite thing. I've been successful at avoiding them for most of my life up until recently, and I thought that I had my feelings in order when I went into this whole baby thing with Caity. I would tolerate the babies until they were old enough to walk and talk, and then the fun would begin. I've always considered myself a "toddler man" and Caity and I agreed that she would take the first 2 years of their lives and I would handle them from 2-13. When the twins were born, something happened inside me (see Carrey, Jim - The Grinch who Stole Christmas) and I knew I was forever changed. I didn't really understand what had happened until a couple of nights ago.

I was walking the dogs at about 11:00pm at night. I think it was the same night that I threw up 6 times, but it could have easily been yesterday. Anyway, I'm walking all alone, in the dark, in the middle of a huge field, and I'm staring at the night sky looking for planets, familiar constellations etc. like I usually do at night in the dog park, when I have a "moment". You know, those times when you just stop what you're doing and think "I'm the luckiest man in the world!!!". I'm alive, I've got the perfect little family (a beautiful wife, two gorgeous kids, two affectionate dogs, and two even more affectionate cats). I've got a brand new house, a mostly new car, and a great job with a great company. How could life get any better?

I know. We could have another kid...

and that's when I realized what I had done. I didn't save any sperm before my chemotherapy sessions.

I'm not sure why, but I feel a great sense of loss over not saving sperm. I know that other parents know what I'm talking about when I say that your own kids have a special look they give you every once and a while that makes everything ok. One look, and all the crying, all the diaper changing, all the baby puke is all worth it. And here's the kicker. They flash you "the look" more and more as they develop. I would say that right now, almost 80% of my time with them I get "the look". If I could listen to the thought process inside my daughter's heads, this is what I imagine "the look" sounds like.

"Hey, this is a neat toy. I wonder if I can fit it all in my.....OH MY GOD!!!! YOU'RE MY DAD!!!!! I KNOW YOU!!!!! THIS IS THE GREATEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE THIS IS....hmmm I wonder if I can fit this toy in my mouth...."

I never said it was a long moment but to me it's pretty powerful. I imagine it's nothing compared to walking in the door to your own house and being greeted to squeals of joy and loud yells of "DADDY", but right now I can barely handle "the look" without getting emotional. Every look, every smile, every giggle I get from my kids is one more thing that I might not have been around for if things had gone badly with the transplant. Yes, I still hate the crying, and the fussiness, but it's all worth it when I pick up one of my daughters and they look at me like I'm the greatest thing in the world. That's why I was feeling regret for not saving sperm. I now understand why everyone was telling me to store some away before the transplant. Creating a life is the greatest thing I've ever been a part of, and I no longer have the option of making more. Well, there's a slim chance that some of my production capabilities are still intact, but from what I've been told, chemotherapy is very effective at destroying any desires one may be entertaining about having more children.

So that brings us back to the dog park in the middle of the night. I stopped, and thought about being sterile, and I almost wanted to cry right then and there. As a man, we rarely feel comfortable crying in public. Other men tend to point at us and laugh so we have to cry in private. I was so sure that I only wanted two children before the transplant that I never seriously entertained the idea of banking sperm. Now, I might not have the option of creating more. If I had been given chemotherapy when I was diagnosed, I most likely would not be writing about my perfect little twins today. Caity and I are very lucky that we got to be parents at all, so I shouldn't be so down about the whole sperm issue, but if you could feel how happy my kids make me when they smile at me, you'd understand why I'm sad at stopping at two. I really wish I could go back to pre-transplant Adam and tell him to bank sperm, but it's too late for that.

You know what? I've got some pretty nice kids, and I actually enjoy spending time with them. I never thought I'd say that about a baby, let alone two of them. I still reserve the right to be ambivalent towards other people's babies, but as far as my babies are concerned, they will always be the apples of my eyes. They are my sun, my moon and my stars. They are two of my three favorite women of all time, and I don't know what I would do without them.

By the way, is it too early to get emotional when I see a commercial about a young bride and her father on her wedding day? It is?

Oh, shit, I'm in trouble.