A leg up with the uterus

I got a very moving email from J yesterday... one that made me take a step back and realize that yes, I am infertile. But I still have a "leg up with the uterus" as he put it. As I mentioned before, J is one of my dearest friends. We haven't been terribly close since I've moved to Florida, but in my heart is he has always been with me.

J and I worked together in the same small town bank in graduate school, and our desks were next to each other. We talked alot, and because we had a number of classes together, we became very close. My exhusband (well - he wasn't my ex then) was away on a trip, and J and I had dinner at our apartment. Over two very large bottles of cheap wine (we were students), I confessed that I needed out. That I was afraid. I told him everything. And he reciprocated. I guess you could say we both came out. And then I got sick. HORRIBLY sick. Puking my guts out and passing out in the shower sick. And he showered the vomit out of my hair, put me to bed, and held me all night long. He made a wisecrack or two about waking up with a woman, but I knew in my heart that if I ever decided to marry again, I wanted it to be someone like J. Someone who not only would hold my hair for me while I'm sick, who could make me laugh so hard I choked, and who would be there for me unconditionally.

When I was going through the horrors of my divorce, it was J who kept me sane. J was the one who would sneak me into bars with him (I wasn't quite 21 yet) and would keep me up until obscene hours of the night to prove to me that there was some excitement to be had. It was J who let me stay over when I was too afraid to stay at my house, and we would sit up drinking and watching fashion shows in bed together. (Provided of course - that I agreed to change the sheets so they didn't smell like a "girl"). J and I took scandalously long lunches and ate great Mexican food, and he understood things without needing explanation. When I was trying to decide if I had it in me to go to law school, it was J who cheered me on. It was J who called the police while I stayed on the phone with my ex trying to keep him from committing suicide. J taught me that yes, chicken fried steak and gravy were really good stuffed into a baked potato (trust me, I didn't believe it either). It was J who coined my nickname "stumbalina" after watching me take a tumble down my stairs after one too many bellinis.

He was always there, always comforting and when he needed to be - he told the truth - even if it stung. A lot of people thought we were dating - and my exhusband actually accused me of having an affair with him. To be honest, if I had the chance, I probably would have. J gave me hope. He made me believe that there was good still left in the world. Because through all of his support of me - he never asked for any in return... and he was going through such awful - horrible things that I could not even begin to understand or help with. I don't think I ever told him how much I admired his strength, or how much I loved him.

I got an email from J not long ago, and began to pour out my heart about our infertility struggles. He told me that as a friend, he would be there for me. It's all apart of growing up - and dealing with adult problems. And I knew - in my heart, he would be there. Thousands of miles away - but yet with me every step of the way. When we were in grad school, J met JK and fell madly in love with him. They're together now after all this time, and while it hasn't been easy for them - in reality - no relationship worth saving ever is. He told me that he didn't know what he and JK were going to do and without saying it - he reminded me that yes. I do have a leg up with the uterus and all. I still have the hope - however infinitely small - that M and I will have our own genetic progeny. He and JK don't have that ability - and no matter how deep their love and devotion to each other- it simply isn't an option. My heart is so heavy for them both.