My Blah-Blah-Blog

To parents – both moms and dads – who owe child support:

1) If you don’t need to wait, pay child support at the BEGINNING of the month. It sure will help the other parent.

2) Don’t spend money on flat screen tvs (yes, plural) and build a new deck but complain you don’t have money for child support.

3) Don’t tell your children you make about a million dollars a year and tell the court you don’t have a job.

Just sayin.

Is there anything worse than meeting Mr. Right, finding the Man of your Dreams, and falling in love with the person who really honestly truly does feel like your other half – the rest of you – and then discovering that you cannot be together?

I’m leaving

I’m going away

I’m getting in a taxi

heading to the airport

He doesn’t stop me.

My heart breaks.

Feeling rather lost, lonely, wandering. Where on earth am I going!!??

Feeling overwhelmed. Frenetic voices in my head. Coming. Going. Staying.

Can’t connect the dots. Don’t see the design in the tapestry.

No rest in my sleep, no life in my day.

Alone yet consumed by others. Giving giving, waiting to receive.

Not understanding, heart breaking at the torment that is loss.

I thought I was. I thought we could.

I am not. We cannot.

One of my favorite poets, Elizabeth Barrett Browning. The more I read her writing, the more I think we would have understood each other very much.

Irreparableness

I have been in the meadows all the day
And gathered there the nosegay that you see
Singing within myself as bird or bee
When such do field-work on a morn of May.
But, now I look upon my flowers, decay
Has met them in my hands more fatally
Because more warmly clasped,–and sobs are free
To come instead of songs. What do you say,
Sweet counselors, dear friends ? that I should go
Back straightway to the fields and gather more ?
Another, sooth, may do it, but not I !
My heart is very tired, my strength is low,
My hands are full of blossoms plucked before,
Held dead within them till myself shall die.

So the kids’ dad mentioned that he may have to come to North Carolina for a meeting. The only meeting he’d be having here is with an attorney. To get custody of the kids. Which means this isn’t going to be pretty. What.The.Hell.

Nothing makes me want to slit my wrists more than communicating with my ex-husband does.

Another boring and depressing day. Trying to push through but can’t break out of this yucky blah feeling that makes me feel so pointless.

Anyhoo – heading to the pool with the kids. Hoping the sunshine will perk up my mood a bit! Wish I had a laptop so I could write while we’re over there.

I was watching a television show the other day and a woman was in the midst of childbirth: there was much panting, wailing, gnashing of teeth and I’m sure some cursing, not to mention blood sweat and tears, not necessarily in that order. I rolled my eyes a little as I recounted my own childbirth experience 11 years ago at 3:20 this morning.

See, I pretty much slept through the entire birth of my first child, not by choice mind you,  and not because I have super hero powers residing in my loins that cause child birth to be a painless breeze. No, no, not at all. Let me tell you how it all went down.

May 16, 1999. I was about 38 weeks preggers with my daughter. I was working full time and barely had a nursery ready when at around 3 that afternoon – my day off – I got a phone call from my OBGYN (for you who don’t know, that’s a baby doctor/vagina doctor all rolled into one). Well, not my real OB, but the one on call. MY doctor happened to be out of town on vacation (and oddly enough returned from vacation three years later the day before my son was born). She wanted me to know that I’d have to come to the hospital as soon as possible to be induced as my protein levels were out-of-control and too high for the health of the baby.

I was super annoyed because 1) I had to work the next day and 2) I wasn’t ready for the baby yet (I still had two weeks!) and 3) I hadn’t had lunch yet, much less dinner.

I was NOT ready for this kid. But, like any other mom-to-be who suddenly goes into labor, I found myself realizing that the end was indeed in sight and I needed to get my butt in gear and get to the hospital. No time to do anything other than grab an overnight bag for me and the baby and a carseat and off I went to the hospital. I debated on grabbing some food to go on my way in but I remembered that it’s recommended you don’t eat just before going into labor. Tell that to all the women who have a wonderful meal just before the first labor pangs… they don’t seem to complain much.

Well anyway, off to the hospital I go since it was SO urgent to get there. I got checked in, wheeled in to a nice little room, and was told to wait for the doctor.

That’s when I realized how hungry I was since it was about 6:00. Nope, nothing to eat said the nurse.

Then I got a case of heartburn so bad I thought I could spit fire. I BEGGED for some relief and the nurse reluctantly brought me a small dixie cup of what tasted like Sprite syrup with battery acid mixed in (it burned going down!). Hungry, heartburn-ridden and developing a headache, I realized in my misery that I was definitely not looking forward to having a giant baby head squeezed out of my nether-regions.

Not to worry. Apparently the doctor didn’t want me to deliver the baby until the next morning anyway, (see how urgent my case was?). She had mercy on my nerves and authorized a horse-sized hospital-strength (read: coma inducing) sleeping pill. I took it with some nice water (which unfortunately did not cure the fire that roared in my esophagus). It must have been around 12:30 or so. I was looking forward to a nice rest.

She also authorized another medication: a little, erm, insert pill thingie that would induce labor. Not to worry she said, again. It would take all night to kick in so that I’d have a slow, easy start to labor in the morning after a nice night’s sleep from the sleeping pill.

Tucked in, lights turned down, I turned on the TV. A League of Their Own was on. The last thing I remember was Tom Hanks speaking one of my favorite movie lines “There’s no crying in baseball!” before I drifted off to sleep.

Only to awake about 30 seconds later to find that holy ^%($ I am not feeling so good in my girl areas and what the hell my water broke. Zzzzz. Wait, what is happening? Holy hell I’m in FREAKING zzzzzzzzzzzzz. I’m in FREAKING labor y’all! ZZzzzzz

Have you ever tried to complete a task while dozing off? You know, nodding off at work while typing? Stuff like that? Well can you imagine the same sort of dozing off while getting ready to have a baby!?!??!?!

I don’t remember much from that night except everyone being incredibly amazed that I went into labor and popped out my firstborn in a record 45 minutes start-to-finish. My then-husband kept drinking cup after cup of coffee to stay awake but was struggling too (only to find out that the hospital was 7th day Adventist and didn’t serve caffeinated drinks).

I vaguely remember seeing that little round baby face with teeny tiny red lips and thinking “she looks like my grandfather” and hoping that maybe she was really a he if she was going to look like a boy.

And I remember the new nurse on duty turning up my oxygen and asking me to repeat my name and birthday and other information because she didn’t realize my narcoleptic behavior was caused by a sleeping pill but thought I was drifting in and out of consciousness from the strain of labor.

Not.

I may have mumbled out my daughters name before completely passing out. It wasn’t until early the next morning that I was awoken by a new nurse drawing blood – as if I had any left.

When they brought me my little bundle of joy, I was ecstatic to discover she did not look at all like a man, and I called my parents who lived so far away so they could hear their first grandchild cry.

And now, 11-years later, I find I am still sleep-deprived, narcoleptic and trying to accomplish tasks feeling as such. I still get heartburn and headaches and will never leave the house hungry.

And, 11-years later, I look at my daughter and see how beautiful and lovely she is, looking like a little miniature version of me and my mom all mixed into one, with a little bit of my grandfather in there somewhere, too.

It may not have been a tale worthy of A Baby Story, more like Birth: FAILS instead. But for that little package of joy that I received that day, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Not even a nap.

“You’re not like other women I know” he said. “You’re different. You’re smart, you’re beautiful. I find myself very attracted to you. You’re the only one I’ve ever thought about this way.” He said this while flipping that damned holster button. And then he walked away.

I was speechless. Never had I been so attracted to a man in my LIFE and had him reciprocate like that. I was certain he was out of my league. Even the most clever and witty phrase I could come up with was junk compared to his. My most brilliant IQ score would pale in comparison to his if he took the test blindfolded.

He’d call me on our days off and we’d chat and laugh and talk about everything and anything. He’d flirt, but just enough to let me know he had an attraction, but never crossed a line to make me feel uncomfortable.

One day, he brought me a Dove ice-cream bar while I was working. It was a treat, a surprise, and it made me feel like he was okay with other people know we talked.

But other people were *not* okay that we talked. One Richard to be exact. He’d become one of my really good friends that I trusted, enough to where he had a key to my apartment. He took advantage of this and one day he went into my house and read all of the emails that Curtis and I had exchanged.

He approached me, yelling at me for not telling him I had a boyfriend (say what?!). He said he thought HE was my boyfriend. He said he was going to go to the Captain to let him know I was in a relationship with Curtis and that we shouldn’t be on the same shifts.

To my surprise, he even confronted Curtis outside of the PD one day. They had a pretty intense discussion according to Curtis who told me what had happened. He said this to me: “[Richard] said he was going to tell the Captain that we’ve been seeing each other. He also said he would be willing to fight with me for you. I told him I would fight just as hard.”

Doesn’t this sound like it’s from a book?

Then Curtis asked me to meet him to chat for a few minutes. I did. He told me that he’d been contemplating ending his relationship with his current girlfriend, and that he wanted to be with me. But there was a problem: Richard had told him that we’d been seeing each other for months, that we were very serious and that we were going to move in together. I was incensed, angry, mad. He said we should make an effort to not speak to each other for a few days to see what Richard was going to do, to see how the department would respond.

The next day Richard and I both worked together. We were in a hallway and I was so angry that he was saying things to the Captain, lying to Curtis about our relationship. We stepped into a small side-room so nobody could overhear our conversation but at some point a Sergeant did, and he called us out saying we were stupid for having this discussion at work and that he’d have to let the Captain know.

It was such a mess. My heart hurt so bad every night, knowing I could have been with Curtis, knowing I should never have trusted Richard as much as I did, that maybe if I’d realized he wanted more of our relationship or thought more of our relationship than I did. I was so, so mad at him. I’d had enough drama at the PD and I did NOT need this to top it all off.

Sure enough, the rumor mill started up and the politicking began. I was told I was not permitted to work shifts with or speak to either Curtis OR Richard, that my permanent file would have a note on it about the situation and about my stirring up the situation with Richard at work and pulling him into what could have been a domestic at work. I was even strongly encouraged NOT to speak to either off duty as well. I was so mad. I didn’t even get to tell my side of the story.

I didn’t see or talk to Curtis much after that. One day he was on a call and a lady went crazy after he arrested her and was putting her into his vehicle. From what I remember, she started kicking at him and broke a few ribs. I was so upset when I heard he was hurt. I just wanted to be sure he was okay and tell him that I’d quit the PD if I had to, just so we could be together.

I made him some brownies and brought them in to the PD (which everyone else ate, I don’t remember if he ever got any!) I hoped things would soon blow over and maybe we could revisit our relationship, but it never happened.

I had to quit my job a few weeks later. Curtis called me once to ask if I was okay. He said he was going to quit soon as well because what of what happened and how it was handled.

Years later I heard Curtis was in a coma. I cried and prayed for days and days and days that he’d come out of it. If anyone deserved it, it was Curtis.

He did come out of it. He married his long-time girlfriend and made a life together. I moved on in my own life, but never did I find a guy who made me feel like Curtis did. Every now and then I’d dream about him, that we were together. The feelings that would stick with me the whole next day and my heart would hurt and I’d wish things were different.

My heart hurts just as much today, only more so. Curtis died a week ago. He’s gone. All that was brilliant and wonderful is gone from this world. He impacted many people.

I hear his funeral was perfect for someone of his caliber. I wish I could have been there. However, I can barely look at the photos from his memorial page on the web. It hurts an awful lot. Knowing I could have been with him, maybe his life would have been different, or maybe it would have had the same awful outcome.

Either way, I hope he is at peace and resting well.

URTOO: U R the only one.