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No, let him put his career first.
You and Bug Mel Gibson grow old together. Over time you grow distant, because you never quite had the children you wanted so much, but on the whole, you can't say it was bad life. One day, you're making the usual small talk over the usual breakfast, when Mel crushes his glass of orange juice in his pincer. You look up from the newspaper and see his thousand eyes oozing tears of frustration."What's wrong, honey?" you ask.
"What happened to us, Donal? What happened to the two of us?"
"You know as well as I do, Mellie," you say, reaching out to gently brush his mandibles with your fingers.
"Tell me. Just tell me what it is, for once."
You take a deep breath. It would be good to get it out in the open.
"Kids. I always wanted kids."
Bug Mel Gibson stares back at you. "Really? I really, honestly had no idea. I always thought it was because I was a bug!"
Oh no, he always was sensitive about that. You hug his chitinous thorax. "No, no, never," you say. "I love you just the way you are. I always have."
"Larvae..." he says. "I never knew. I would've had them, if you wanted. I would've put my career aside. I always just wanted you to be happy."
Your jaw hangs open. You don't know whether to feel joy at affirmation of love, or sorrow at the loss of what you could've had. "How could you not know? I was always subscribed to those maternity magazines."
"You were also subscribed to Bug Mel Gibson Loather Monthly."
A fair point.
"Maybe... we can adopt?"
"The loathing thing... it's what I always loved most about you."