Seed

She meant the world to me. She was everything that I lived for, everything that I worked for. Every inch of her fabulous figure, every strand of her long brown curly hair, every gaze from her soft blue eyes. Every word she spoke, every smile she made filled my heart with more warmth than the sun. She was my wife, my flower, my Daisy.

We were the perfect couple. Same basic hobbies, same interest, same fascination with the worlds various flora and fauna. Two happy graduates of Highland State University, two intelligent botanist. I devoted my life to her eternal happiness. If she wanted to go someplace, such as a park or museum, I would take her, no matter how much I may have personally objected. If she was happy, I was happy. I would not tolerate her sadness, I would die if she were ever truly upset or saddened. If she became sad, I would do anything to make her happy again, anything to return that warm glow to her smile and that undying love to her eyes. I gave her anything that she wanted, accept for the one thing I was powerless to give: a child.

The doctors told me all the technical terms of why we couldn’t have a child. But basically if you broke it all down they were saying it was my fault. My wife was fine, she could have children all she wanted. I just couldn’t deliver the goods so to speak. "Not enough of them" the doctors said. But I ignored what they said, and I tried my best every night to give her what she wanted, past the point of personal pleasure. My happiness was no longer important to me, it was hers. Each night I gave her as much as I could, but it was never enough.

I tried to soothe her when I saw there was no real chance in succeeding. I offered other alternatives, such as artificial insemination or adoption. But it only made her even more upset. Often I’d come home from the lab to the sounds of her crying. I’d lie awake at night, listening to her sob softly into her pillow beside me. It tore me apart inside. I only wanted to make her happy, but I saw now that I couldn’t. I gave her gifts, things to cheer her up. Even a kitten. She’d smile, kiss me and thank me. But no matter what I did I could always see the hole inside her, the empty part of her I was unable to fill.

Time passed, and each time I heard her sob I became even more desperate. I finally decided while sitting in my lab that I would give her what she wanted, regardless of what I had to do to give it. The only way I could make her happy was to give her a child. Not some strangers donated seed or someone else’s abandoned kid from some orphanage, but my child, my seed. I had to somehow get my count up again. The first place I started looking was in my very own lab, with the very things that I knew best: plants.

If anything on the planet knew how to reproduce and spread seeds, it was plants. Though I knew that their methods were completely different and out of the question, I looked at other possible alternatives that I could use. For three months I labored in my lab, looking for anything that could give her what she wanted.