The Reconstruction of Cyprian

by Michelle Love

  “Don’t be silly. That’s not how things work, Cyprian.” I tap the place next to me on our bed. “I should be honest with you.”

  He sits down and looks at me with furrowed brows. “Honest?”

  With a nod, I proceed. “You see, the first guy I was in a relationship with, wanted me to have his baby. I was seventeen and as stupid as they come.”

  “Oh, my God, Cami!” He looks at me with wide eyes. “You had a baby and gave it up for adoption. We can go get it. I’ll pay the family you gave it to any amount they want to get it back. Was it a boy or a girl?’

  Shaking my head the entire time he’s talking, I finally get to say, “No, it’s not that.”

  “Don’t tell me you had a…”

  I stop him before he even says it. “No, not that either. I got pregnant. I got pregnant three times and I lost it by the third month every single time.”

  He bites his lip then shakes his head. “You were a kid, Cami.”

  “I know that.” The guilt in me climbs all the way to the surface. “I hate like hell admitting this shit. You have no idea how much I hate to admit I did such a stupid thing.”

  “It was stupid. But thank goodness you weren’t stuck with a bad decision,” he says as he rubs my shoulders.

  “Here it goes. I’m just going to put the past out there. I never intended to talk about the stupid shit I did but I need you to see that we may never have our own children, Cyprian.”

  “What else did you do?” He looks at me with a puzzled expression.

  “I like the way you look at me now. I like the way you see me as an educated woman with her head on straight. If you know this about me, I’m kind of afraid you’ll never see me in quite the same way,” I tell him.

  He just shakes his head. “You are who you are now to me, Cami. Nothing from your past can change that.”

  “I think you’re wrong but you married my ass, so you’re stuck with me and that means the idiot I was way back in my younger years. So, here it goes. After the first guy and the three miscarriages, he broke up with me. A little while later I met another guy and you won’t believe what I did.”

  “You wanted to get pregnant, huh?” he asks as he gives me an odd look. “How old were you then?”

  “Nineteen. So, the thing is, I lied to that guy and told him I was using birth control. I was trying to get pregnant on purpose and I had four more miscarriages. He didn’t know anything about the first ones I had but the fourth one happened while we were sleeping together. It was a blood bath and I had to ask him to take me to the hospital.”

  “All ended before that third month?” he asks as he seems to be calculating things in his head.

  “They did.”

  “You dated one more man. Did you do that with him too?” he asks as he tries hard not to look judgmental.

  “No, not with him. I was getting smarter by that time. I was twenty-one and full into college and looking at other things in life. But I always had a little thing going on, inside of me, that told me I might not ever have kids.”

  “Is this something you’ve told your gynecologist, Cami?”

  “I have. I swore her to secrecy. I’ve hidden this from you and now I’m beginning to feel like you should’ve known this before you married me.” I look down as I feel the guilt overwhelming me.

  His finger touches my chin and I find him smiling at me. “Camilla Girard. I would’ve married you anyway. I love you. I love all of you. And just to be sure about everything if we have no pregnancies after a year, like the doctor told you, then I’ll get my sperm checked out too. This isn’t all on your shoulders alone, baby.”

  “And if we never have kids?” I ask him as I know this man wants kids like crazy. He’s always looking at baby pictures on the internet and looking up names for kids and I know this is a definite goal for him.

  “We will have kids. There’s more than one way to skin a cat,” he says, earning a frown from me. “Okay, skin a cat is kind of gross. But you know what I mean. There’re all kinds of ways to have babies nowadays. You’re a freaking scientist. You know this!”

  “Test tube babies aren’t my idea of what God wanted. Maybe the almighty knows I’d be a shitty mother,” I say then look away.

  Again, he pulls my face to look at him. “We both know you wouldn’t be a shitty mother. But we can put this to rest for a while and let time take care of the hormones and then we’ll take this thing, head-on.”

  “I can’t believe you aren’t pissed at me for withholding this information from you, Cyprian.”

  “I don’t know why. I adore you. I’d have married you with anything in your past, short of being a secret ax murderer,” he says with a laugh.

  “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m damn glad I have you. You have to be the best husband in the world,” I tell him and pull him to me and kiss him.

  “It’s only because of you that I am who I am today. With you at my side, I can achieve anything. Anything at all, Cami. Don’t worry. We’ll see our dreams come true. Just you watch.”

  Is it bad that I don’t believe him…

  CYPRIAN

  Am I pushing Cami to do something she doesn’t want to do?

  The months have passed with nothing happening. She’s been off the birth control for a year and a half and she’s not even had a missed period by even a few days.

  She wants to give it more time but I think it’s been long enough. I pushed to see a specialist and now we’re both being tested to see who is at fault here.

  I pray it’s me. That sounds weird, I know. But she’s just so positive it’s her that I’d like nothing more than to take that monkey off her back. We’ve been called in to hear the results and I have her hand in mine, praying it’s me and not her with the problem.

  “I have the test results right here, Mr. and Mrs. Girard,” the doctor says as he pulls his reading glasses up and plants them on his face.

  Cami’s hand starts shaking and she closes her eyes. “Who is it, doc? Who’s stopping us from having what we so desperately want?”

  “I’m not sure how to tell you two, this. You seem very worried about this and you’ve only been married a short time. Things can change with time. Stresses can be relieved and things might come around,” he says.

  “Go ahead and tell us the news. We’ll deal with it. We’re good at dealing with what’s beyond our control, doc. We’ll be fine, no matter what the news is.” I tell him and hold Cami’s hand tighter as I lose any hope that it’s me with the problem. It’s obvious the doctor sees her nerves and knows she’s going to be upset with the news.

  I brace myself for the tears she’s about to shed as the doctor pulls the paper with the test results out of the large manila envelope. “Cyprian’s sperm count is low. That’s the reason you aren’t getting pregnant, Mrs. Girard. Your results are normal. That’s why your menses have all been normal. You are fertile. Now, if you can carry a fetus past the third term isn’t a thing I can tell you. You’ll have to get pregnant to see what happens then. We can always use donated sperm to make your wife pregnant, Mr. Girard,” he ends his devastating words as he looks at me.

  “No,” I say before he says another word about putting another man’s sperm into my wife’s body. “Hell, no!”

  What the fuck just happened here…

  The Evolution

  The Reconstruction

  Of Cyprian

  By Michelle Love

  Chapter 1

  CAMILLA

  Heavy breathing is all I hear as Cyprian has an apparent attack of anxiety. “Ashton, you should pull over. Cyprian needs some fresh air, I think,” I call out to the driver as we’re on our way home from the fertility specialist’s office.

  His eyes are wide as he looks at me with panic. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “You’re freaking out,” I tell him. “Put your head between our knees and stop breathing so fast.”

  “No, I mean, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I make babies?”<
br />
  Shaking my head, I answer, “I don’t know. You said, yourself, there’s more than one way to skin a cat, Cyprian. You don’t need to worry. Just remember the things you told me about this.”

  “I shouldn’t have prayed for it to be me,” he gasps out.

  I find myself surprised he did that. The car pulls to a stop in the parking lot of the convenience store we met in. I get out of the car and help Cyprian out, with Ashton’s help.

  “Can you go inside and get him a cold fountain drink? Anything with sugar.” I take my husband’s hands and hold them between us as he looks up at the evening sky and I see the tale-tale sign of tears.

  “I thought I could take this burden but I can’t, Cami. I can’t take it!”

  Hugging him, I try my best to console him. “Cyprian, it’s going to be fine. It will be. I promise.”

  Ashton comes back with the drink and I hold the straw to Cyprian’s lips. He takes a sip and then another as he watches me. “I don’t deserve you,” he mumbles.

  With his breathing, back under control, we get back into the car and Ashton takes his place at the wheel. “I’ll get you two home.”

  “Thank you,” I say as I run my hand over Cyprian’s leg. “I’m going to do my homework on this. We will have our own kids. I’ll do all I can to make sure you get some kids running around the house before you know it.”

  Resting his head on the back of the seat, he looks at me with so much sorrow in his light brown eyes. “Cami, if you want to divorce me, I’ll understand, completely.”

  “What?” I gasp as he’s insane for even saying such a thing. “I married you out of love. I’ll take all of you. Imperfections and all. Don’t ever say that again.”

  “You’ll make a great mother,” he says then looks away. “You should have kids.”

  “And we will. No matter what, Cyprian, we will.” I run my hand over his cheek and he looks back at me.

  “Not with a sperm donor! We won’t use a sperm donor,” he says as he shakes his head back and forth, rapidly.

  “Okay, we’ll leave that way out of our minds.” I pat his hand to reassure him. “I don’t want to have a baby with anyone but you, anyway. I dream of seeing versions of you and I running around. Not me and someone else. Don’t worry.”

  As we pull to a stop in front of the house, he looks at me and asks, “Did you ever think in a million years I’d have a low sperm count?”

  Shaking my head, I answer, “I did not ever think that. Not with your virality. But I will research my heart out to find out what can be done to help you bring that count up.”

  Walking into the house, I find him scooping me up into his arms and carrying me upstairs. “Let’s just keeping doing it until we can’t anymore.”

  Laughing, I say, “Put me down, Romeo. I really do need to do my research on this before we do anything else. We already have sex multiple times on a daily basis, already.”

  “I know.” He puts me down, his head hanging low and making me feel worse than if it was me who was the problem with our infertility.

  “Come on,” I say as I pull him along with me to the bar. “Let’s have a drink and I’ll get out my laptop and we can peruse the plethora of information we’re sure to find on this subject. You aren’t the only man this happens to.”

  Lagging back, he makes it difficult to get him where I want him, relaxing in a comfy chair and sipping on some Cognac. “The specialist said stress might be the cause since I’m so busy with work. Maybe I should step down from the CEO position.”

  Going to the bar, I settle him in a chair and put his feet up on the ottoman then go and make him a drink. “I think you might think about getting yourself another assistant and letting others help you more but leaving the position of the company your father worked hard for isn’t a thing you should do. You love your work.”

  “I love you more,” he says as I hand him the glass. He pulls me down on his lap and leans his forehead against mine. “Stress has always been a factor in my weekday life. That’s why we partied so hard on the weekends. To get rid of that. Do you think the way I’ve stopped doing that is what has me like this? Impotent.”

  “Okay,” I say as I pull my head back to look at him. “You are not impotent. You, merely have a low sperm count. There can be many contributing factors to that. And if you think I’ll ever allow you to go back to that party scene, you’re sorely mistaken. Those days are behind you, husband!”

  “Got it, wife!” he says with a chuckle. The sound is good to hear coming from him after his reaction to the news. “So, grab your laptop and let’s do some brainstorming.”

  He seems to be getting into a better frame of mind, so I climb off his lap and go to my office to get my computer. As I leave the room, I hear his cell ring and he moans then answers it.

  I must be one of his parents asking how the visit went with the specialist. Boy, won’t they be surprised by the news he has for them? I know I was flabbergasted by it!

  Could children be the one thing we won't get…

  Chapter 2

  CYPRIAN

  “It’s me, not Cami, Papa. Can you believe that?” I ask as I’m still not processing the information. “I prayed for it to be me and I feel like an idiot for doing that.”

  “Your prayers didn’t make a miracle happen, son. What did the man say was the reason why?”

  “He didn’t know for sure. There can be many reasons,” I tell him then sip my drink. “One thing’s for sure, I have some life changes I have to make. Less stress is one of them.”

  “Yes, the stress of working the way we do, or I did, is a thing that can get to a man. Maybe you should take some more time off,” he offers me. “I could step in for a while longer.”

  “You’ve already done that so Cami and I could have a month-long honeymoon not that long ago. And with all that relaxation, it still didn’t change a thing. I don’t know what will help.”

  The door to the bar swings open and in comes Cami, “I think I’ve found something, Cyprian! We need to have less sex!”

  “God, no!” I shout. “Papa, I have to go. Cami’s lost her mind!”

  Tossing the phone on the chair next to me, I look at Cami and find her looking back at me with pure joy in her deep blue eyes. “Seriously, Cyprian. I think the problem is that we have too much sex.”

  “Baby, sugar, honey,” I say as I pull her back to sit on my lap. “Babies are made by having sex.”

  “I am a scientist,” she says as she frowns at me. “I’m well-aware of how babies are made. But look at this article I found.” She turns the laptop toward me and I see a picture of a man with a large X over his genitalia. “It says here that when a man ejaculates too much and too often, it can lower his sperm count. Baby, you ejaculate, on average, five to six times a day.”

  “And you’re saying that’s too much?” I ask because I don’t think it is.

  “It is,” she lets me know.

  “And you never felt the need to let me know this until now?” I ask her as my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

  “Well, I didn’t actually have a problem with it. It’s nice how many times you can make me come unglued in a twenty-four-hour period. Up until now, it hasn’t been a problem, it’s been a very big benefit.” She bites her lower lip and looks into my eyes with a sultry gaze.

  “So, you’d like to start this thing with less sex?” I ask her as this makes no sense to me. One doesn’t have babies by having less sex. That’s just crazy!

  “I think we should start there and add in some more things. Get rid of your tight underwear. You can wear loose boxers instead of those tight ones.” She points at another thing on her computer screen. “Your rock-hard body is made by exercising pretty excessively every day. If you read this, you’ll see that can be a problem too.”

  “Whoa, hold on!” I shout as she’s trying to take too much away at one time. “You think I can stop having sex and stop my daily routine too? I can’t do that! You see, I don’t ever show anyone any pi
ctures of myself before I turned eighteen and started working out. I was chubby. I don’t want that to happen to me again. It takes the working out to keep me fit.”

  With a laugh, she says, “You’re more than just fit. You’re buff. You’re built like a gladiator, Cyprian. I’m not saying you can’t do some moderate exercise but all that you’re doing now needs to slow way down if you want to have kids, that is.”

  “You know I do,” I say as I sigh. “But this isn’t going to work. Without sex and exercise, my stress level will climb to new heights. That’s what I do to help with the stress of my job. I’ll have to turn to drinking, I guess.”

  She points to another part of the article. “Nope. That’s another thing you’ll have to cut out.”

  “No way! Damn it!” A pout forms on my lips and I have a feeling it’s going to be on them a lot if I decide to do this.

  “If the shoe was on the other foot, I’d be looking at getting fertility treatments that could lead to having multiple babies all at one time. But I’d do it. I’d have to have hormone shots and extensive treatments that would make me irritable and easy to get upset. But I’d do it.”

  “Saint,” I say as I shake my head. “I’m not one of those. I don’t know about any of this. You’re talking about upsetting my entire lifestyle. You see, Cami, I get up and I go to the gym I’ve built here and workout. Then I shower and get ready for work.”

  “I’m aware of that. I do live with you,” she says with a smile.

  “Okay, then you know my life is a mess of things that I’ll need to stop if we’re to have a baby.”

  “It is,” she says then climbs off my lap. “Look, I need to go see the chef about the Thanksgiving menu. It’s in two weeks and I want our first ever Thanksgiving to be a hit since both of our families are going to be here. I’ll leave my computer for you to read about your situation. If it’s not a thing you want to do, then I’ll understand.”

  I watch her walk out the door and wonder if she really will understand if I can’t do everything it says I should. I want kids, I do but giving up every damn thing that makes my life worthwhile seems too much to ask a man to do.