The Husband

Humoring me as I play with the panorama on my new phone.

I’m pretty sure I have the best husband in the world. I was just reading a forum where the ladies were sharing stories about how their husbands will go off on them about the smallest things, and I realized how lucky I am. My husband is very even tempered and doesn’t really sweat the small stuff. I, on the other hand, do tend to. Not that it happens a lot, but I do fuss about some little stuff sometimes… his beard trimmings in and around the sink for days (I refuse to clean those up), drinking all the milk/juice/tea except the last little bit and putting the near-empty container back in the fridge, leaving the kitchen a mess, etc. I usually try my hardest to be nice about it, asking politely if from now on he’d do it differently, but sometimes it doesn’t come out sounding like that. Sometimes it’s a passive aggressive sarcastic remark that slips out.

He never fusses at me over stuff like that. Never. I’m sitting here trying to remember a time when he did, and I can’t think of a single instance. How lucky am I? I think I forget that and take him for granted sometimes. I guess occasionally it all just builds up and has to come out one way or another, and I focus on that and don’t think about all the wonderful things he does for me. I guess that’s human though. Gotta work on being less human then. Wait… no. See previous post… spacey today!

Cookies and Conundrums

The mix-up

I just made some cookies. They didn’t turn out too great. I’m better at cakes and brownie pudding. I was originally going to halve the recipe, but I’ve been a bit spacey today and ended up halving some of the ingredients but not others and had to make the whole batch. And somehow I added balsamic vinegar?!? I figured a little more sugar might counteract it, so in went some more of that. The first third into the oven were very thin and flat, the second oddly shaped and a little over done, and the final dozen were damn near perfect. They all taste good though.

The husband and the roommate are gone, so I got to fail at these cookies in peace. They’ll eat them when they get home no matter what they look like. Well, the roommate will. The husband and I are starting to try to eat better, so he may wag a finger at first, then eat one or two.

I bake when I’m stressed. The uncertainty about everything continues, and I don’t know how to get past it. I know what’s needed of me but I can’t bring myself to do it. I guess I’m still waiting for the ultimate to happen so I may justify not doing it a little more. Will that really work though? Is the ultimate destined to happen? If so, is it anytime soon? Would it be justification anyway?

Ugh… I ate too much cookie dough.

Tearful Driving

I lost it today. I couldn’t bring myself to go in. I kept driving and went right past it. Right past it. And I continued driving until I was an hour out of town. I didn’t know where I was going… just away. Nothing but beautiful countryside to try to focus on as I drove west. I cried. A lot. I called a friend who’s twelve hours away and she talked me down. I really appreciated that. Down pouring tears, a cell phone and a car... not the best combination. I eventually turned around and drove back home. The whole way I wondered what I would tell him. Keep the peace and say, yes, I went there? Tell the truth and say, no, I couldn’t do it? I couldn’t lie to him. He was amazing. I really thought he’d be angry, but he was so sweet and supportive. I really have the best husband.

I hate this anxiety. It gets the best of me just about every time, and I don’t know what to do about it. It’s crippling and makes life extremely difficult to get through. I want to just wake up one day and have the courage I need. Having him has helped a lot, but it hasn’t fixed it completely. It was there long before he came along and I feel it will be, in some form or another, forever.

Syphilis

First, no, I don’t have it. Second, I’m not sure why, but I wanted to share this crazy story. I’m a little drunk right now and feeling sorry for myself. Maybe a funny story will lighten the mood? One day during my senior year of high school there was a blood drive. I signed up and went in. There was some guy in a creepy dog costume and he wanted to hug me. Not knowing who he was, I refused, but learned it was a friend and cautiously agreed to a semi-hug. Still creepy. They gave me a form to fill out. Recently being treated for rabies (yeah, that was fun) sent up a red flag for the blood drive personnel, but then they said it was long enough ago that my blood should be okay to donate. I received a letter a little while later telling me my blood type and that my blood was all good. That was the first time I donated.

The second was a few months later at a blood drive during my first few days at college. I was so nervous about college in general that I wasn’t eating much. That day I hadn’t eaten lunch before hand and went on in. They tied the rubber band around my arm and inserted the needle. Then they couldn’t figure out why the blood wasn’t flowing into the bag. Aha! They hadn’t untied the band! What do you know, it flowed nicely afterwards. Then it was off to the Honor’s College introduction to the library. Really? A library introduction? As thrilling as it was, it was all I could do not to pass out. No food + loss of blood = no good! I had to kneel and, of course, everyone stared. Great.

A month or so later I get a call from my mom saying I’d received some mail from the Red Cross. She didn’t know why, but something told her to open it. Stammering the whole time she informed me, “Honey, they tested your blood, and there’s something wrong.” At first I’m thinking, what the hell? I grew up in a poor county and never trusted the health department... I’d gotten a hepatitis shot there during the summer and I’m thinking they gave me HIV or something. “Honey, it says you might have syphilis!” I started laughing immediately, as I was still a virgin at that point.

“Mom, there’s no way.”

“Honey, it says here you tested positive.”

She then told me the Red Cross had run three tests. The first was positive, the second inconclusive, and the third negative. So, in the end, they decided I didn’t have syphilis, but I still wasn’t allowed to donate blood for a year. As it turned out the hepatitis vaccine had tainted my blood somehow and suggested syphilis.

I haven’t donated blood since.

Waiting and Worrying

It’s scary to think something could be wrong with my body. Something that could make it harder to or keep me from having children. My doctor’s appointment isn’t for another month and a half, and the waiting is driving me crazy. All I do is stress about what could be wrong. I’m constantly online doing research and I think that’s good and bad. Good because I’m learning and I feel I’ll be more informed when I actually see the doctor. Bad because it scares me to know all the things that can go wrong and makes the waiting and not knowing that much harder.

From what I’ve learned I think it may be one of two things. The first isn’t too bad and can be treated pretty easily. It just covers a few of my symptoms though. The second one would explain a lot more of them, but it’s a little trickier to work with. Depending on the severity of it, things could work out okay on their own or could need some more in depth treatment, possibly surgery. And that’s expensive without insurance. We’d work it out, but it adds to the stress.

I wish I could just see the doctor already so we could know one way or the other. Time’s been going by pretty quickly, so hopefully it will continue to do so. I hope the doctor takes me seriously. I hate how they can be so condescending and just brush stuff off sometimes. Of all the doctors I’ve been to throughout my life, I think there’s only been two who I actually felt were truly concerned about whatever I was seeing them for at the time. Maybe she’ll be number three. If not I’ll find someone else, hopefully not having to wait two months to get in again. I guess we’ll see.

Smoking

I’ve got to stop smoking, but I love it so much! I love the little rush I feel when I smell a freshly opened pack. I look forward to the bit of a “high” I get towards the end of a cigarette and how it forces me to relax. I enjoy the moments when my mind wanders when I’m smoking by myself on the back porch, a few minutes of tanning during the day and then later staring up at the night sky.

I’m not really a big smoker. Well… I have been more so lately, but never more that 5-6 a day. Is that a lot? It’s not like it’s a pack or two like my parents used to do.

I started around five years ago because it was a legal something that calmed me down when I felt I was going to jump out of my skin. Then it was only one or two a few times a month and it stayed that way for several years. It was only when I really needed to.

A few months ago I started more. It started out socially, then increased as the stress level went up. Then it became something to do, a way to pass the time. Now it’s become a mix of all three. I really don’t feel a need to smoke unless I’m getting frustrated. I do have a great desire to smoke whenever the husband and roommate do, whether at home or at a bar having a few drinks. I guess it is mostly social. I like how we talk and open up more when we all go outside for a cigarette, especially at night. We get to know each other better and seem to bond some. I think that’s a big part of why I’m reluctant to give it up… it wouldn’t be the same.

When the husband and I started trying to get pregnant, I only smoked two weeks out of the month. But the months have kept passing with no second pink line, and I’ve been smoking the other two weeks as well. Even though I think our problem so far has been more “user error”, I wonder if I should go ahead and quit. I know my body would appreciate it, and this annoying coughing would go away. Whenever I do get pregnant though, I definitely will quit. I’ll have someone else to bond with then. :)

**Update... As of July 16, 2010 I am a non-smoker! Yay!**

Starry Morning

Stars have a hypnotic affect. We moved here from the city a few weeks ago, and I think I’d forgotten just how many are up there. The buildings and street lights always blocked them out, as if trying to make us forget there is something greater out there and to forever keep us in their grasp. It was a completely different world, and I feel now as though I’ve escaped, although I do at times miss the closeness. But was it really closeness, or were we all just closed in? We seemed to all move together, but really we were each very, very separate and a lot of times going the wrong way.

It’s different here. Although still separate, it feels like we’re all heading in a similar direction. Everyone’s ultimate goal is different, but we all really just want the same thing. I think the stars play a part in that.

I’ve been so focused on the sun since arriving here that it hadn’t even occurred to me to give the night sky a chance once again. An opportunity arose last night, just after midnight, and it was like a soul reawakening. I was immediately taken back to my teenage years, sitting with friends in the middle of a wide open field with nothing and no one else around. We’d gaze up and laugh about our dreams, wondering what was in store for us. Those days were full of chaos, but moments like that made it all worth it. The stars made anything possible.

Looking up at them last night I started to feel that way once more. Older and maybe only a little wiser now, I know there are limits and not quite everything you dream can come to be. But for a few moments it was nice to feel that awe again.

A Little One

Having children is the only thing I’ve ever been passionate about. I never got excited about a career and could never honestly answer “What do you want to be when you grow up?” with anything other than “A mother”. I would never say that out loud though. I used to say that I wanted to have a coffee shop, but even back then I knew it would never happen. Going all the way back to high school, I remember my greatest fear being that something terrible would happen preventing me from ever having children. I think it still is today. Now that we’re actually trying and have been failing so far, that fear has become more legitimate.

It amazed me how, when the husband realized his dream he was constantly reading everything he could get his hands on pertaining to it. It was all so fascinating to him. It made me realize that I’d never been that passionate about any subject. I’d never had the desire to constantly seek out information and continue learning about much of anything. Until now.

A coworker gave me about a dozen pregnancy books a few years ago, and I’d been saving them until we decided to start trying. Now I can’t put them down. I fly through any pregnancy or parenting book I get and am constantly looking for more. It absolutely fascinates me! I’m fully intrigued by everything I read and want to learn more all the time.

I’m eagerly anticipating morning sickness and getting huge. I’ve always thought the pregnant female body was so beautiful. The thought that my husband and I will (hopefully) soon be creating a human life together and it will be growing inside and nourished by my body, that it will start out the size of a pin head and grow into a little person, absolutely blows my mind.

I love how there are so many parenting “styles” and how pulling a little from each and making our own feels right. I love how there’s matter-of-factness and complete uncertainty in every aspect. I love the psychology involved with raising children all the way from toddlers to teenagers. I think Dr. Spock can see into my soul.

I feel for once that I’ve found that thing I’ve been looking for my whole life. I feel I have a purpose now and may actually be good at something. On the other hand though, I’m absolutely terrified that I will be the worst parent and permanently scar my offspring. I feel I have so many issues of my own that there’s no way I could successfully raise another human being.

If there is a greater power out there, be it God or Mother Earth, karma, destiny or plain old wishful thinking, please, just let me have the chance to put my fears aside and dedicate my life to something wonderful.

(June 6, 2010)

Gleaming Tree

Can you miss what you never had? I got a glimpse into how it could have been and I really, really wished it had. Such a strong bond that only the ones in it can possess. I was angry that I was denied of it and furious with the person responsible. I know it was perceived to be the right decision at the time, but letting so many years pass and not changing the situation at all…

Watching how they interacted together was heartbreaking. It was such a big part of what I’d wanted for so long, and then to witness it firsthand… it was almost more than I could take. I was, in fact, a part of it and unbeknownst to all but one, always had been. Being there, mingling, trying to remember names, I wanted so badly to go back in time and be a part of that situation many years earlier. Why did I wait so long to ask the truth? I know why… I was terrified of what the answer was and what fallout there may have been from the simple act of asking. I’ve always been too nervous to ask the big questions.

I was very lucky to be a part of what I originally was. I know that and I am very appreciative. There was always something missing though, as well as a few incidences that should never have happened. I knew from a very early age what it was that was missing and that it made me different. I did ask about the absence once when I was around seven years old, I guess. The reply was vague and didn’t allude to anything changing anytime soon. I didn’t ask again for 18 years. I remember making it my New Year’s resolution several times, but none of those years saw anything resolved. Then, fast approaching, was the life changing event that had always been my ultimate deadline.

For weeks I agonized over the words I would say and even if I would really, this time, keep the courage to go through with it. Going into it I didn’t know what to expect or even if I’d be given the time of day on the matter. Surprisingly the words flowed, although somewhat stammered and with a few nervous tears mixed in. I got my answer. An honest, truth revealing answer. The asking didn’t really disrupt much, but nothing of it, question nor answer, was spoken of much afterwards.

From there I sought out the one that had eluded me for so long. I searched based on the information I then had and found an address. A letter was written. It was somewhat formal, very honest, and contained contact information that wasn’t anticipated to be used. It went through its own hellish journey but eventually found its destination… not in a mailbox, but plastered to the side of a house, wet from rain and mud. A young boy was sent to retrieve it and he ultimately placed the letter in the hands of the one it was meant to find. A call was made. The number was unrecognized and the voice was one I never expected to hear. An arrangement was set for a time and place. All the what-ifs of the meeting lurked in my mind up until the day arrived. The greeting was a hug in the middle of a blazing hot parking lot. The restaurant was loud which made hearing the words filtered through a thick accent difficult. The meeting brought more knowledge and was followed with many more phone conversations. Starting out they were frequent and greatly anticipated, but as time passed they became spaced out and awkward.

Then an invitation to a yearly gathering came. I debated, but decided I couldn’t not go. The amount of people took me off guard and was a bit overwhelming, as I’ve never been much for large social situations. The closeness between absolutely all of them made me envious. It created the most gorgeous, gleaming tree I’ve ever seen. It extended from branch to branch and crossed over to completely different trees. I’ve always been a part of a different tree, but it had always felt more like a shrub. Knowing that I was a part of this one filled my heart and broke it at the same rate. I was part of it, but would never fully be.

A couple of more calls would be made, but they were brief and ended with promises of being continued soon, although they never were. The last one was a year and a half ago on Christmas Day. I guess we’re both to blame. I tried to reach out a few months ago, but nothing came from it. Now there are 500 more miles between us than before, both literally and emotionally, and I don’t know if they can be covered or not. Definitely not now, but maybe one day.

(June 4, 2010)