Jul 27, 2010


It's been one week that I've officially known that someday, I will be called Mom. 

I took the 1st test while Jeff was at work & immediately freaked the fuck out because I've taken like a gajillion preggo tests in my life and never once has one been even remotely positive.  The urine usually speeds right past the 1st window on the stick to the 2nd window, blurting out the thick, single line meaning NO.  Before we talked about being ready to have kids, I would always secretly hope I got a negative reading.Once we talked about adding onto our family, I went into the pregnancy tests with a neutral feeling.  I've never cried or been sad at the negative reading.  I always just assumed that's what I would continue to see, as I pissed on a stick simultaneously pissing away money to EPT.  I just figured I would need some assistance getting pregnant.  The thought of taking fertility drugs & thus possibly having a litter of children at once is not very appealing.  After all, I'm a human, not a dog--which is what I'd feel like after birthing 6 kids at once.  Just sayin. But we pseudo tried for numerous months (try since about October).  We weren't all insane about it, checking basal body temps with me ravaging him because I was ovulating.  No!  We just sort of stopped being careful.  No more pearl necklaces for this girl;)

After pacing the living room, oh...about a thousand times, Jeff finally came home from work & then I took the 2nd test.  That too, was positive.  But it was such a faint positive that I thought maybe I had gotten a faulty 3 pack box of tests.  It sounded just like my luck, after all.  So I did what any girl would do, I consulted with a knowledgable person in this realm--one of my besties.  After all, she has 2 kids so she HAS to know whats up with this pregnancy test.  Right?!  After telling me that I have now entered the Denial Stage, and that I was indeed pregnant, she recommended to "take the 3rd test 1st thing in the morning.  If it helps ease your mind.  But you're pregnant.  For real."

So I did.  And it was the same.  We told our families and some very close friends but I didn't want to announce it to the world until we got an official word from the doctor, because I was obviously still swimming deep in this denial shit.  Last Tuesday I went to the Dr's.  The nurse, after I told her I had taken 3 tests already, laughed at me & said with dead certainty "you are pregnant, but we still want you to take a test here".  How was everyone so damn certain I was knocked up when the preg test box says it's only 99% accurate?  I could totally be that 1%.  Duh! 

But once the words flew out of that chicks mouth that I was indeed, with child, it really began to sink in. We've been on cloud nine ever since.  Even though it's only been a week, it already feels like an eternity.  Good thing noone has really been around us this week because we've been that obnoxious couple that won't stop talking about it.  We're both giddy with excitement, but also realize this is going to be such a huge rollercoaster ride of change.  My little alien (I've dubbed it this because it is so insane that there is this little poppy seed size thing, sucking the life out of me, growing exponentially & will soon come bursting out)--is only a little over 4 weeks.  ONLY 4 WEEKS! I'm so happy to know so early so that I'm not boozing it up & so I'm taking better care of myself.  But really, it's crazy to me because most people I know didn't find out until the 2nd or 3rd month. 

Now, if we could only hurry up and find out if we're having multiples! After all, twins run in both of our families.  Yikes!!

Update: After going to the doc for our 1st checkup they said even though conception happened 4 weeks ago, I am considered to be 6 weeks pregnant since they start counting 2 weeks after your last period and it's all a guessing game anyways considering pregnancies last from 37-42 weeks.  So, the baby will be here sometime in march--you know, when it feels like it;)

Jul 15, 2010

Old Man

Dad.  Yeah, the title refers to the song by Neil Young.  I DO NOT refer to my Dad or any guy in my life as "my old man".  Blech! Everytime I hear this song I think of my Pops.  His birthday (my Dad's, not Neil's) was earlier this month.  I didn't call him.  But this damn song keeps reverburating through my head.  I could've given his cell a ring, but he probably wouldn't have answered.  I tried him on Father's Day to no avail, then I called my Mom and wished her the same because really, she was my mom and dad.

I love my Dad.  I always have. 

My parents divorced by the time I was 5.  I remember the night vividly.  He was at work. Unbeknownst to him, his wife and two kids packed up some shit, left the house stealthfully under a blanket of dark skies, to never return again!  Okay--it wasn't really that dramatic.  He was at work.  But I'm sure he saw the shit coming!  We just left and stayed with my aunt & cousin which was AWESOME in my book because that was like my best friend at the time!  We could play all. the. time.  I was stoked!  Never once do I remember really giving a shit that my parents weren't together anymore.  I didn't cry and will them back together, making promises to be a good child and thinking everything was my fault.  (Does that kinda thing really happen like it does in movies??)  I just went with the flow.

My Dad was always there, but not in an authoritative way (my mom found other douches to take on that tyrannical role). But he never lived far from us, we could visit when the mood struck us, we were around him on holidays, the occasional camping trip.  As far as that side of the family, we definitely spent more time with them so we're all pretty close.  We were never traded around like ragdolls "You get them every other weekend"--none of that bullshit, thankfully!  I always obeyed my Father, because that's what kids in my day did.  You listened to adults.  That's as far as our connection went.  I never once asked him for advice, never once confided in him, never once cried on his shoulder.  My Mom bared the brunt of everything, good and bad, and I wouldn't have had it any other way. 

I DO love my Dad. 

I try to love him unconditionally but he really pisses me off!  I know he's proud of me and likes me to go out with him to meet all his drinking buddies.  It never really bothered me until the past few years though, that we don't have a closer connection.  Maybe it's because of the song.  I always connected with my Dad secretly through that damn song.  "Old Man take a look at my life, I'm a lot like you.  I need someone to love me the whole day through".  In my 20's I liked to party--HARD!  I never wanted kids because I knew that if I had any, especially in my early 20's that I would be such a shitty parent.  A selfish parent.  And I never willed that on a poor, defenseless baby.  I was like my Dad--all about myself, responsible by having a full time job but irresponsible in every other way, hopping from lovers to hopefuls in the soulmate department and everything in between. Something has changed.  I WAS like my Dad.  I still like to party but it's not as often.  And I want kids now and I know I'd be a loving, nurturing, caring and sometimes patient parent.  I would want my Dad to be a Grandpa and take some pride and satisfaction in that role.  However, considering my Dad's lack of interest in other's lives I highly doubt that would happen.  Case(s) in point:
  • my brother has a baby & another on the way. We thought that would be some sort of leverage to get our Dad to come visit but even if he did I doubt he'd be ooing and aahing over these little hyper, cute, sweet human beings. 
  • Our youngest sister (we have different moms) just graduated from high school & practically raised herself the past couple of years and he seemed more disappointed in the fact that he was missing a pool tournament than being elated in the fact that she kept her head on straight, despite the odds, and graduated with honors and a scholarship! 
  • When I actually told him about my serious relationship with Jeff (I've never spoken to my Dad about relationships before), he barely muttered a word. 
I don't regret my parent's splitting, I completely understand and empathize what it's like to be in a miserable marriage.  I am completely fine with not telling my Dad my deepest, darkest secrets.  But what I'm not fine with is that my Dad never calls, that the only way he'll come visit me is if I bother the shit out of him to do so, and that he doesn't take more interest in his children's lives.

I'm sure I can speak for all 4 of us kids by saying:
We don't ask much of you Dad.  You've had 31 years of parenthood to get your shit together.  We would love for you to be more proactive in the lives of your children--it could reap benefits in your own life.  You're a talented guy, funny and have a vast potential to be loving.  We just want to see and talk to you more.  Happy belated birthday.

Love your oldest and therefore wisest;) daughter,
Amy Rae