It’s Sunday! I had a great weekend at a pumpkin carving party with my good friend and a collection of strangers. It was amazing to step out of my head and easy to avoid drinking by being the bartender. As a bonus, I felt like I was helping out!
S and I are going hiking at 10. I’m excited. We typically get together at night and I think this will be a good exercise in doing something different. For me, changing the environment is an easy way to see a person in a new light. I teach indoor cycling at 8 and hustle to get home and shower. Yes, I get that we are hiking but let’s be honest, it’s still early in our relationship and I like looking nice for him. I grab my phone ready to head out and see a text. “Hey, my buddy just came by. I’m going to be a few hours late.” What. The. Fuck. Everything screeches to a halt and Bjork “Army of Me” blares in my head. It is on. “Who the F does he think he is to text bail on plans that he made? Who the F is this "buddy" and why didn't you tell him you have plans?" It keeps going. . Thank God that dialog stayed in my head. Before I react, I call Brooke for a second opinion. She knows I go ape shit when people bail. She also has a ten-month old and knows that hormones are real. We decide that I will “be cool.” I don't have all the information. Cool me replies. “Seriously? That’s a bummer. I am ready to go so will head out with a friend. I’ll text you when we’re wrapping up.” “I’ll explain when I see you. He’s having a tough time.” Okay. I am probably being insensitive. The hike simmers me down and I grab lunch with my entertaining, young, hungover friend. He’s 28 and always makes me laugh. S is meeting me at a café at 2. I am in a much better head-space. I don't think he is. He’s avoiding eye contact. I am trying to apologize for not asking if everything is okay with his friend (turns out he had a panic attack and drove 2 hours South to see S—I am an asshole). But, he is having none of it. I am trying to own being selfish. It’s going nowhere. He’s hungry so we go to a restaurant. I am so uncomfortable and I want to leave. I try to make small talk. It’s falling flat. We go to my house to play Trivial Pursuit. I can’t hold it together. I am hurt, crying and hormonal. I hate today. We finish the game. I am calmer. He’s buzzed on beer. It’s drizzling outside and we pop in one of my favorite movies “Waiting for Guffman.” It’s nice to watch something mindless and to be held.
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I have a date today. And it’s not with S. On our third date, he made it clear that he was not ready for anything serious (he’s recently divorced). And, I am fine with this. In between boyfriends, I had married my job and have spent the last few months restoring balance in my life to make room for dating.
I love getting to know S. I also like meeting new people. S and I are on the same page. We agreed that if either of us met someone that we want to be “intimate” with, that we would let the other person know. Since he’s a man, I expect this will come up. Since I am a priss (I won’t kiss another man if I am “being intimate” with someone) I am confident we can have an adult conversation if I meet someone I like. However, I completely spaced that I had accepted this date and it’s in an hour. My story has changed and my interest in dating is dead. Can I bail? What if I just don’t show up? What if I simply act like an airhead? Grow the F up. I have more important things to think about then a stranger. I text bail. What oufit says "I'm carrying your child and really interested in learning your middle name?" Jeans and a t-shirt or the black "straight from the office" dress? I choose the former (casual), turn up Spotify and head north.
S lives 10 miles away, but it is rush hour in So-Cal. I have time to call my pal in Wisco for another pep talk. She assures me that the words will come. I have made my decision to have the baby and now I can share the information with him and give him space to digest it and to react. I have no idea how I am going to do this. My confidence crumbles to tears and I am lost in Disturbed's version of "Sound of Silence." I'm outside his house now and trying to pull it together. I wipe my eyes, put on some lip gloss and head to the door. He is waiting at the door with a smile and 2 Basset Hounds. I decide that I will wait to tell him until after dinner. I like him and am enjoying getting to know him. I don't want to ruin that. Maybe I can be "normal" for a few hours and then casually bring it up. I decline a drink and we head in to the living room to catch up on his weekend with his brother and my weekend with the meatheads. It's going well (I think) until my reality is clouded with fantasy sequences like an episode of Ally McBeal. I mumble something about wanting to find a better way to transition the conversation but can't. I feel my lower lip start to quiver and our eyes meet. He knows. I say it anyway. Human emotions are inexplicable. I watch his face shift from disbelief to fear to shock to anger to sweetness and then his head bows to his hands. I sit in silence. Is he trying to hold the information in? Is he trying to help it find the right place to process in his brain? He turns to me with such raw vulnerability. I start to cry. We move to the kitchen so he can get a beer and we can talk at the table. The next hour is a kaleidoscope of tears, laughter and shock. We think we will be amazing parents. He asks if I have considered an abortion. We agree our child will be smart and athletic. We realize we both have depression and cancer in our families. We eat nachos (maybe just me.) I start to cry. He takes a whiskey. We swear off sex and decide to build an emotional bond. We end up in the bedroom. I prepare to head home (ironically, we don't have sleep overs yet).We agree that we still like each other and will keep dating. He's concerned all our conversations will be about baby. I am concerned he wants to pretend it's not happening. I step into the darkness relieved this burden is lifted and petrified of what's to come. My mother passed away when I was 18 and my father did the same about 10 years ago. My surrogate parents (Aunt Phyllis and Aunt Joyce {sisters, not lesbians}) have passed on as well. This leaves my blood family pretty small. I have a sister and a brother with 3 nephews and 2 nieces between them.
Fortunately, I have developed a strong family of friends and know that I can and will lean on them for support. At 6-weeks, I wasn't sure if I should tell anyone. But, I was scared, confused and needed help. At least half of my girlfriends have kids that range from 10-months to 18-years old. And yes, we are mostly the same age. Turns out, there is no ideal time to have a child and no right age to be when it is born. There is also no perfect relationship with the father-- I talked to friends who are married, divorced, separated and widowed. I feel like I just joined a "secret club" and that the meaning of life and the universe just became very simple. Life is a force that must continue. I don't know how it chooses its vessels, but I was now one of them. Sure, I am scared as hell. But, this is what's happening. On Fridays, Brooke and I meet for espresso, dance class and spring rolls (usually in that order). I was still on the mend from a recent foot surgery and my entire body just felt off.
"Maybe you're pregnant." She asked like a statement. "Maybe you're pregnant" I retorted like a freshman. Brooke had a knack for stupid theories. Sure, I recently started having sex with a new man. But, I also take pills and claim a pretty broken reproductive system as the result of 8 period-free years of marathon and triathlon training. Still, she got me thinking. I checked my Period Tracker app and was 10-days late. Shit. I bought a pregnancy test. The next morning, I had to produce a 2-day live training event for health coaches which included a 7 am workout and all-day clinics. I blinked my eyes open at 5:30 and was greeted by an early text from my newly divorced college room mate letting me know she was going on her first date that night! Big day for both of us. I let her know I just peed on a stick and would check back in. . . f. . . no need to check back, it's a tiny, pink, "yes." My mind went blank and stayed that way for the next few hours as I handled what I had to. During a free minute, I called Planned Parenthood to learn if there was another test I could take. Turns out, false positives are really rare and I was pregnant. I made it to lunch and had to tell somebody. Not "S". Not yet. "S" is the father and we had been seeing each other for a whopping 6 weeks. Plus, I knew he was deep in "boys weekend" with his brother. This could wait. It had to wait until I knew what I wanted. Trevor (who I live with) texted me to see if I wanted to talk about what he saw in the bathroom. Relieved to have a confidant, I cried in a corner, wrote a list, meditated on it and decided that I was having a baby. |
I am:A creative thinker/problem solver/hustler. . . future mother. Archives
December 2021
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