It's Easier To Blame My Infertility That Accepting That He's A Loser
My phone is buzzing, but I can’t find it anywhere. I’ve checked inside my purse, under the newspaper, but I find it under my drawing book. I had a missed call from Suraj. “Hey! I saw your missed call,” I called him back, “Sorry, was watching TV and it was silent. What happened?”
Suraj said he’s going to be late tonight. He has a party to attend tonight, with some friends. We’ve been together for five years now, and I’ve stopped caring. He can eat, drink and possibly smoke if he wants to. We have a comfortable house, one car, one bike, and Moni.
Moni is an asset. She’s wonderful; she is adopted and a year old now. I have everything. I’m a small entrepreneur. I have my own website where I sell crafted purses. I have some long-term big-shot clients and even sell them to companies who give them off as gifts to their employees during festivals.
My name is Nisha. But I like to call myself, Nasha- an addiction. I’m addicted to wanting more. I want everything.
I want to get married. I want the most intelligent and good-looking man. Suraj works in a multinational company and has a good salary. He gives me everything. He gave me this house, takes me out for fabulous dinners and gives me beautiful gifts. He takes care of Moni and loves us dearly.
But I want more. I want him to be the leader. I want him to be CEO. I want him to own many cars, a Mercedes too. A mansion, I want a mansion. With a beautiful garden where Moni and I could spend our time. I’ve expressed the same to him, for all this time, but he seems content. He doesn’t have this fire that I have inside of me. He keeps telling me that he’s content.
And that’s when the fights began. As a result of them, instead of working towards climbing up the ladder, he began falling, rather, failing. He started feeling and worse, behaving like a loser.
He began blaming me for not keeping him happy. He said he wants a baby. Our baby. Even though he knows that it’s not possible. We’ve had all the tests done, met all the doctors that we possibly could. But we simply can’t have a baby. And now, that’s what he wants, more than a promotion, more than that mansion, with the big garden and the Mercedes parked in the garage.
It’s not like Suraj didn’t know that I couldn’t conceive. Before our wedding, he knew that I had tumors in my ovaries and so had to remove them.
Going for these medical tests, month after month, knowing that the results are going to be the same, it’s leaving a psychological impact on me. I’m losing my temper more often, I’ve becoming impatient and more than ever, I’m asking for more, much, much more.
I don’t know if happiness is something that our family can achieve, but all I want, for now, is money to keep my baby and my whims satisfied.