"A broken man is like a carpenter without a hammer. Sure you may have a lot of nails in your pouch, but you still have no way of driving them home."
Wishing...
It had been years since our first miscarriage. We never really talked about it to be honest. We never really dove into the problem to find out what caused it. We just wrote it off as one of those things that just happen. Through the upcoming years, we did have the occasional pillow talk about how we did find it rather odd that we didn't even have a single "close call." It just wasn't happening. During this time, things between me and Joney were rough. We broke up and moved out, only to get back together a few weeks later. We were in rough seas to say the very least. Things between me and “Lana” weren't any better. She hated Joney. Hated everything about her.
Over time, my visits with my son became few and very far between. She would disappear off the face of the planet, leaving me to track her down like a dog. This caused a lot of tension between me and Joney. She wanted me to take Lana to court for custody. She wanted me to stand up and be a man, but I just couldn't. I didn't want to tear my son away from his mother, even if she was being a bitch. It wasn’t long before my son became her weapon against us both. The biggest bullet for Joney to bite was the fact that it was becoming more and more clear that we were never going to have a child, that it would always just be her against “Lana” and my son. She never really talked about it to me, but you could tell that it bothered her a lot. She wanted us to have that joy. To be a family. The chance to hold her “own” child in her arms and not have to face the realization that she would have to hand him or her over to a woman she despised with every fiber of her being. It just didn't look like that was ever going to happen.
It's not you...it's me.
I blamed myself. I started looking for answers as to why we weren't getting pregnant. At the time, all I could look back on was my youth and something my father said to me when I was about 12 years old. You see, I had a lot of medical problems growing up. I was coughing up blood. I was an insomniac. I was just several types of screwed up. I spent a large part of my youth in hospital rooms. A girl in 3rd grade kicked me in the balls while standing in a lunch line. Would have been nice if she had a reason, but she didn't. This caused a hernia and also caused me to have surgery. After that my balls were okay. Well at least for a little while.
One day however, things got a little different. I was upstairs playing with my brothers before bed. I kept feeling my right testicle. It seemed bigger then the left. I ignored it for a bit and kept on playing. Around an hour later it was hard not to notice something was extremely wrong. My testicle had now doubled in size. I was a little freaked out but I remember thinking...“Well shit. I can't show my brothers this and ask them what's wrong! They'll laugh at me! I definitely can't show my Mom! That's just gross!”
So, I kept on playing around. By bed time my testicle was the size of an orange. The pain was numbing. I was filled with panic and dread. I knew I had to tell my mom, but I was at that age that I really didn't want my mom staring at my balls. So I forced myself to sleep it off, praying that it would go away by morning. It did not. By sunrise it was huge. I don't remember the actual size but I do remember thinking...“Holy shit!”
So I bit the bullet and told my mom. She asked to see it and I showed her. When she gasped, I knew this was not normal in the slightest. My father then came to see and he went pale. I knew then that this was not at all funking normal! I panicked. I cried. I had no clue what the hell was going on. I was rushed to the hospital and everything after that was a blur. I remember being put under and waking back up to see my dad hovering over me. After I returned home, my father came to me and we had a talk. I vaguely remember this. He said...“You do know the doctors said you may not be able to have kids after this?” I said it was okay. I wanted to adopt anyway. He looked sad and I really didn't understand why.
After that it just became a fading memory. I walked around with a hidden scar between my balls and I just simply kinda forgot it was there. Years later I completely forgot why it was there. I had no memory of what caused my ball to swell up like that. The only thing that really stuck with me was my father saying I couldn't have kids. This became my explanation to Joney. However, it also made me wonder if my son was truly mine? For my theory to be true, then “Lana” must have lied to me.
"I would do anything for love...but I won't do that."
I thought about getting tested. To see if my son was truly mine. It never came to that. I don't know why to be honest. I just didn't want to do it. I didn't want to know. I loved my son. If I found out he wasn't mine, I would be crushed. Basically I thought it was a dick move on my part to even ask “Lana” if I could get it done. She had me bent over a barrel. I was walking on egg shells around her. I was afraid that any little thing I did would cause her to draw back and not allow me to see my son. So, I didn't do it.
This caused a huge rift between me and Joney. “Lana” didn’t really care either way. She was already not allowing me to see my son, mainly because of Joney. She just didn't want her around him. So the fights started. She wanted a damn explanation. Was it her? Was it me and my busted balls? Why wasn't she getting pregnant? If a paternity test could prove I wasn't the father of my son, then that too would prove that my balls truly were busted. It would prove nothing was wrong with her. She could easily have a baby if only I could provide her the seed. I...just wouldn't do it. This was too much for Joney to take. After 4 years of being together, we decide to call it quits for good. I decided to move back to Montana with my younger brother. It was heartbreaking. I didn't want to leave her and I seriously thought the time apart would do us both some good. I had no idea just how right I would be.