Infertility

By Damhuri Muhammad

(1)

How to escape from past friends? Their arrival is more painful than the farewell which only leaves a moment of grief—but is forgotten as soon as new friends arrive. If you knew how their jokes have made me feel even more imperfect as a man.

At every unexpected arrival, they seem unsatisfied if haven't asked the question; why don't you have kids? Or do you suffer from some kind of disease that prevents you to fertilize your wife? Like conspiring to embarrass me.

Asking for privacy such as jokes feels so sickening to me. They treated me like a suspect who was constantly blamed, simply because I had no offspring.

Do you remember Sufyan?

My roommate used to send my greetings to you. You never knew that it was the man who had the idea of ​​telling me to pretend to be sick when you still doubted that I loved you. He put three fever medicine plaster on me—two on my head, one on the base of my neck—to make you consider that I had a high fever. Sufyan covered my withered body with three layers of blankets, then put a plate of freshly tasted rice with a few bites beside me, as a sign that I was not having an appetite. You come with an anxious face and think I fell ill because of your refusal, even though it is just a cunning ploy to grab your heart.

Finally, you expressed your willingness to be my girlfriend. You persuaded me to be taken to the health center.

"Your arrival today is the most elixir of medicine in the history of my illness," I said.

Our relationship continued until my arranged marriage with my parents’ chosen girl made you feel distant. Following the arrival of Sufyan, I wanted to avoid the arrival of past friends.

He was so excited to tell the character of his children in front of me—a man who has been yearning for a baby for nine years.

He felt that his manhood has been proven by their presence. Meanwhile, my life is surrounded by indescribable loneliness because I have no children.

"It's very likely that the infertility is on your side," said Sufyan.

The old friend seemed to want to confirm that I was a barren man. It was as if I had committed an unpardonable sin until I was doomed by infertility. And Sufyan also said that my lack of fortune was because I had disappointed you. Since then, I no longer like homecoming events.

As soon as word got out about college friends who were going to visit my small town, I worked out various alibis to avoid them. What's the point of welcoming the arrival if it only makes me look even more imperfect, and feel even more guilty for betraying you?

Now, even if there is still a missed past friend, it's only you. I want to make sure that my betrayal still leaves grief in your heart. If that's true, my daily life will not be peaceful until you forgive me.

More and more, I believe in the predictions that I caused my shameful infertility by breaking my promise to you. I once swore that I would fight for our relationship even though my parents threatened to remove me from their esteemed pedigree. But, being a loser, I did nothing and ignored your broken heart.

Since then, we’ve been living our separate ways. I became husband to a woman who could only cure my mother's chronic disease but could not relieve my grief because of losing you.

(2)

How to refuse the arrival of past friends? Their arrival was unhappier than losing you. Do you still remember Fatalummiya?

The dimpled girl who used to say that you were the luckiest man to get me. Before falling into your hands, I didn't know what it was like to have a close relationship with a man, so I was called innocent, stupid, or pretentious.

It's not that there are no men who are willing to approach me. If only you knew, that your best friend named Sufyan is the umpteenth man I firmly reject—he has never been honest with you, has he? That's why he is happy to be your errand boy, delivering your longing greetings for me.

Even though he failed, he still had a chance to meet me. For some reason, when you were besieged by a high fever, my heart seemed to be called to accept you. Surely there was something that made it impossible for me to reject you. But now, is it still necessary? Isn't it all over since your mate was accompanied by that threat?

I'd better recount the arrival of Fatalummiya, one of the old friends who came back after years of not seeing. Now she is a mother of two. Fatalummiya was so jolly. She felt that she was perfect as a woman.

Her life is stable as a career woman, her husband is a respected person, and what's more, her house is always boisterous with funny, spoiled, and sometimes fussy children's laughter. But this is precisely where my hatred for the brief homecoming began.

Because Fatalummiya was so excited talking about her happy family, she didn't realize that a few days before arrival, I had just divorced.

Not divorced, perhaps more accurately welcome to resign from my marriage commitment, because I can't give offspring to my husband. I respect his decision to find a fertile woman who can give him a baby soon. I could understand how much his male dignity would be crippled if he continued to defend me. I let him go as I used to let you marry the girl of your parent's choice.

“Perhaps the infertility is on your side," Fatalummiya pointed at me.

The meeting seemed to putrefy all the joints of my body, even more so after my parents-in-law thought I was not qualified as a future mother.

Fatalummiya also said, “Perhaps your unlucky marriage is because you turned away from your true love. At least, there's no attempt to reclaim your lover from the old-fashioned power of arranged-marriage, right?" As if I had committed an unforgivable mistake, and because of that, I was doomed to be a barren woman.

Now, I no longer look forward to meeting past friends. As soon as word got out about an old friend who was going to visit me, I tried to find all sorts of reasons to cancel. What's the point of welcoming the arrival that will only make me more imperfect as a woman? Even if there is still a gathering that I am waiting for, it is only with you, my dear.

I will remind you that you should stop feeling guilty because you have betrayed me. I have already forgiven you because I love you!

How is your family? How many children do you have right now?

Of course, you already have cute children, maybe sometimes stubborn until you slam the door to vent your annoyance. Obviously, you are happy there, with your wife and children.

While I, your past girlfriend, sink deeper into the hole of solitude day by day.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Damhuri Muhammad, graduated from the Department of Philosophy at Gadjah Mada University, Yogyakarta.

He writes fiction, literary criticism, and opinion columns (Op-ed). His recent works have appeared in The Daily Star, Eksentrika, The Unconventional courier, The Pine Cone Review, ActiveMuse, ActiveMuse, and elsewhere.

Now he is lecturing on philosophy at Darma Persada University, Jakarta (Indonesia). He can be found on Twitter @damhurimuhammad