"Where would you like to go on our honeymoon?"
I will say, planning a honeymoon, with a man who I really did not know was, to say the least, quite perturbing. I have always been known to do the opposite thing. You ask me to turn right, I would go left. You tell me how to do something your way, I would dissent and do it my way (however wrong it may be). When it came to marrying the muslim, traditional way, I finally acquiesced and decided this was the route I would take. And I just did not get it. People around me just did not get it.
Well it came down to this. It was not normal for me. Albeit, the act was normal in my religion and culture. However, being raised and educated in Canada while growing up within a Christian-dominated culture, I was heavily influenced by their ideals and values. Planning for a honeymoon with a man I barely knew was not the norm.
And I was all about going against the grain and doing the opposite. It was just an inherent trait.
"Personally, I would love to go down South," I suggested as we both knocked around some ideas.
"Yeah but we are brown. People going South are going there to lie in the sun and get dark," he reasoned. I chuckled. Why did our brown-skinned folks want to be white and the caucasians want to be brown? A picture of George Hamilton popped into my brain.
"Why don't we go somewhere in Europe? Especially to a place where there is Islamic architecture like Turkey or Spain? Before we have children, I think this is our chance to go through Europe. Later on, it may prove difficult," he said.
SQUEEZE ME?! Did he say children?
I froze at that moment while he continued talking about planning the trip with his travel agent.
Children.
He said the word. And although talks about our honeymoon were strange enough, mentioning children that we did not have, made me nervous.
A series of thoughts struck me all at once:
-what if I did not want children?
-what if I could not have children?
-what if he wanted TEN children?
-what if he already had children?
My rebellious nature was temporary as sense and sensibility kicked in. What did I REALLY know about him? As usual, I went in for the kill.
"So.... you mentioned kids...what about them?" I asked. I caught him mid-sentence and he had to pause to formulate his answer.
"Before we talk about that, I do need to know a VERY important question." He put a lot of emphasis on "VERY". I was waiting for it. I had a habit of making a mountain from a mole hill, mentally exacerbating the truth before it came out. He wanted me to mother his other children. I inhaled and waited for his answer.
"Do you have Thalassemia Minor?"
About a minute elapsed in time before I could answer. I was racking my brain trying to understand what it meant. Trouble was, I wanted to make a good first impression, and being a know-it-all was high on my list. Hmmm, it sounded like a medical condition.... and then my mental light bulb turned on.
We had never discussed the state of our health with one another. I could have been growing another breast and he would have no idea until we got married (unless the seamtress sewing my wedding dress uncovered my ghastly secret before our nuptials). Again, my imagination ran wild as I struggled with understanding this strange disease he spoke of.
"I am pretty healthy. I do not have any conditions that I know of," I replied sheepishly.
"Well, I cannot marry you if you have this condition because I have it. And if you have it, that will mean our children will have Thalassemia Major and require blood transfusions every month."
Wow, it sounded pretty serious.
I suddenly realized why he had mentioned children in our conversation. He was fishing to confirm/negate this potential threat. I knew my mom had been anaemic, coupled with allergies and rheumatic arthritis but that was all I knew. What lurked in my family genetics was still a mystery for me.
"I will get tested for Salathemia major. By the way, do YOU have any life-threatening diseases, like HIV or something crazy I should know about?" I asked rather abruptly.
"Thalassemia, not Salathemia," he corrected me. "That is it for me. I don't have any other issues," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.
I may have offended him with my question but I had to ask. This blood condition he was referencing sounded very serious and my stomach tied up in a knot. If he was going to ask me about myself then I had every right to ensure he did not have any contagious diseases. Ironically, I would later learn that Thalassemia minor was not a "major' problem and that three of my children would inherit it as well.
Thalassemia minor: a blood disorder passed down through families (inherited) in which the body makes an abnormal form of hemoglobin, the protein in red blood cells that carries oxygen
The conversation had taken a new, more serious turn and honeymoon planning travelled to the back burner.
"Can you please find out from your doctor if you have this condition? You will need to take a blood test." He paused and for awhile all I could hear was breathing on both ends of the phone.
"I just had a blood test. If I had it, they would have let me know. My cholestrol is a tiny bit high so we need to watch the fried food on the wedding," I joked. There was an awkward silence on the other end. Great. He didn't get my medical humour.
"Okay, well, I ....I guess I will confirm my blood tests and get back to you on whether or not you need to cancel the wedding..." I shook my head and shot myself a look of exasperation in the mirror while I paced the hallway. This was by far, the oddest conversation to date.
He hung up the phone and I immediately called the doctor office. My fingers were shaking all the while as I was dialing. Why was I so nervous?? I had to redial twice. Why did it matter so much? Was I developing feelings? Did I really want to get married to him?
It was the last question that threw me for a loop. I just knew that I did not want my blood results to have Thalassemia. I waited for my doctor, who was reviewing my blood tests. My leg shook up and down and I was biting my nails. I was now in my bedroom looking at our engagement picture on my desk.
We made quite a pair. He was looking at me in the picture while I was bowing my head down, gazing at my hands. When I caught my reflection in my dresser mirror, my cheeks were flushed.
You want to marry him, my reflection responded.
After several minutes of paper-rustling, my doctor finally responded.
"All clear....Just watch your cholestrol."
I smiled into the mirror. I can have your babies.
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