I never thought...

I'd have a child. There. I said it.

Most women, when they think about their future, usually have a long term plan. It usually involves, at the very least, a career of some kind, a place of their own to live in, friends, and eventually, co-habitation with a significant other, maybe leading to marriage and eventually, if you like them enough, kids. These last two things I pretty much planned on never happening to me.

Dating never happened much for me in high school or college. Most people who knew me I think got pretty used to me being perpetually single. This was not a bad thing necessarily. I did a lot of things, I had a lot of fun. But, was I lonely when I looked at my attached friends and knew I was going home to an empty bed? You bet I was. Sometimes, I felt like the loneliest person around. For goodness sakes, I was 26 years old and a virgin, so how attractive could I really be to the opposite sex? After a long time, I did my best to not worry about it, because what was the point? If I was meant to walk through this life alone, that was what I was meant to do.

I became further convinced of this, when I found out I had Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS. Along with giving me the WORST menstrual cycles of my life, and potentially leading to other problems such as diabetes and high blood pressure, I was also told it would be next to impossible for me to conceive and carry a child. I hid my emotions at the time, because I was in college, but I was devastated. I would never have a child. Never be able to experience pregnancy. It is, in my opinion the most heartbreaking news a woman can receive in her life, especially, if eventually, even for a moment, she contemplated having kids.

So, I moved forward. What any normal person does their best to achieve when they are dealt that kind of news. I focused on finishing school, finding a career and trying to improve my financial situation, so I could eventually move out of my parents house and live on my own. You know, attempt to be a grown up. It wasn't easy. I wasn't making much money in my choice of career, even though I experienced some of the most amazing moments of my life at my job. Without making a lot of money, I had a lot of trouble moving out on my own and worked towards finding a second part-time job to help with the lack of money. I still had fun though. I went out with friends, I traveled some, I had experiences and adventures. I was happy, or as happy as I could imagine myself being.

Then, enter Ray. (i.e. the boy) Some people claim things happen for a reason. The other half of the world claims it's bahooey. I think things happen for a reason. Had I moved out of my parents house, would Ray and I have ever met? Or re-met, considering we went to the same elementary school, rode the same bus and the same middle school too. I don't know. It really doesn't do any good to play that game. But, we met or re-met. And, we started talking. I wasn't sure how I felt. I liked him, but getting my hopes up was normally reserved for things like Buy One, Get One Free Cupcake days, not for things like love. I had became very insistent that I was going to be alone, for well, ever. Ray changed that for me. I know its bad to an extent, but he helped me to believe that I was beautiful, worth going after, and lovable. He was, and still is, my comfort, my calm when chaos is reigning supreme. I can go to him, and talk to him, or sometimes not even talk, just sit and just be with him and things will be better or will get better eventually. That was the deciding factor, the final push I needed to know that in spite of my own emotional misgivings, that I would find happiness with this person.

Don't get me wrong. Nothing is perfect, not even a relationship. Its good, its great even, its fun and exciting. Heartbreaking and unforgiving. You get in fights, say things you don't mean, sometime say things you do mean. You learn to live with a persons' good and bad parts. You know, all that crap. You go through the ups and downs, you have debates about changing things and improving your lives together. You find yourself making decisions together. You get happy when you feel things coming together.

And, then, you are thrown a loop, you'd never in a million years expect. Even weirder, when you make the discovery at your local Target bathroom, while your friend's two year old tries to peek under the door to find out what you are up to. A baby. Of course, I automatically think this is a joke, maybe a false positive (very rarely do those exist by the way). Instead, its a baby. Growing inside me. A person that Ray and I created together. I wouldn't have believed it, if I hadn't had it confirmed via ultrasound. I was still on birth control. (Because, obviously, YOU NEVER KNOW.) Again, things happening for a reason? I mean, a million in one shot almost. Yet, there I was, pregnant! HOLY CRAP!!

Pregnancy was really crazy. Overwhelming and stressful at some points. Hormonally deranged, terrifying, back and forth on what you want to do, how you handle things, how you REALLY feel about it. If your honest, you're excited, scared, shocked...there aren't enough words to describe the emotions. How could I not be overwhelmed? Then, the problems start. Gestational Diabetes, easy to manage once you know what you are doing. Then, concerns over his growth rate, which was smaller than expected. That made me cry. My little boy, smaller than what he should be. How could it be? I was trying to be so careful. I was trying so hard. How could this happen? Was he going to survive all this? Delivery, life outside the womb all together? Only one way to find out...

He was supposed to be arriving last Tuesday. He decided to start heading out last Sunday, and arrived last Monday, a week before his due date. 6 pounds, 11 oz. 20 inches long. A head full of hair just like me. He's little, so little, but he's strong. One hell of a temper. My little Elijah. Eli for short. Ray, me and Eli. A little group of 3. Ray loves him so much, he so proud to be a dad. I can't believe I'm a mom, especially to this little tiny bundle. I never thought I would have him, and I wasn't sure he was going to survive. But, he's here. And, I don't know how I've lived without him.

The Long Haul...

Gag me with a spoon if you want, but like I recently mentioned, me and the boy have hit 6 months. This is a big deal for me personally, but not for the reason you'd probably think. I'm pretty sure this is the longest relationship I've had up to this point, so at least at this particular moment, I am officially capable of staying in and maintaining a decent relationship for an extended period time, which after the last few years, I wasn't sure if I could actually pull off. For me and the boy, one, we didn't even realize it until two days after we made it "official" and when we did, it was more or less "Hey, we've been together 6 months ::pause:: Neat, want to watch a movie?" I mean its cool, but when we get to year, then we'll throw confetti at each other and do something ridiculous like go see a ridiculous movie or feed each other chocolate covered strawberries...actually, scratch that, if that happens, I'm going to need someone to haul me off to the looney bin for an extended stay. I'll feed myself chocolate strawberries, thanks anyways.


The point of this rather silly and drawn out story though, is that we've been together for 6 months and again me and a friend got into a discussion recently about...forever. F-O-R-E-V-E-R, forever. The long haul. Are we, as average, everyday human beings really meant to be together forever? We came to the initial conclusion that this might not be the case. Maybe we are supposed to have more than one person in our life, the idea that there's not just one person out there, because really, when we thought about it, that was a pretty scary thought, because what if you don't find that one person?


But, then we started thinking about couples who we knew who had done forever. Actually, i started that, because (1) I'm the eternal optimist and (2) for every one person who says you can't do it, I can always think of one couple who managed to beat the odds and stick it out for the long haul and be happy about it, my aunt and uncle who were together for 52 years. They went through the good, the bad and the ugly together. Dealing with the death of her parents and the repercussions that had on their life (they were taking care of kids before they had their own), financial troubles, losing two children in childbirth, raising 5 kids of their own, the death of his mother, buying a home and staying there for 40 years, going on their own adventures across the country, spending time with their nieces, nephews and grand kids and great grand kids, my aunt's life changing crippling knee injury and subsequent knee surgery, the celebration of their 50th wedding anniversary and then the subsequent decline in health of my uncle from asbestosis and his eventual death almost two years later. They went through a ton together. Some of those things would've caused one of the two partner's to walk away if it was any other combination of people, but they stuck it out together. And, I can honestly say that I have never met two people who were happy to be with each other. I mean, my uncle drove my aunt totally nuts sometimes, especially with his 5000 projects that he worked on around the house that never got totally finished and his inability to allow anyone to help in the kitchen during Christmas. And, my aunt drove my uncle nuts with her need to invite 7000 people over to the house during Christmas, her need to vacuum every single day, and the fact that they had managed to house birds, dogs, and several children and grandchildren over again. My aunt is a softy for anything with big eyes and a sad face. But, they loved each other, no matter what, and you could see that constantly.

My biggest memory from my Uncle's funeral was when I walked up to his casket and talked to my aunt for a few minutes, who was standing over him and just had her hand resting over his. She looked at me and told me that she just didn't know what she would do without him anymore. She was surrounded by so many people, her family, her friends and the community they lived in, but she had never felt so alone in her life. He had been the one true constant in her life for over 52 years, and all she could think about was how much she missed him, and how much she wished that he would get up out of that casket, so that he could help guide her through how she was going to handle all of this. I think that's when I realized how scary that feeling must be, to be on your own after the one person you've spent 50 years making decisions with is not there to help you. It would scare the crap out of me. At the same time though, that's exactly what I want.


Its such a nice idea, the idea that you can find someone who you can tolerate for longer than 15 minutes, who you can share everything with and still find more to share with them. You help each other get through the good and the bad, and you really are in it for the long haul, no matter what. I've met plenty of people that for them, when the going gets tough, they get the hell out. Its understandable, especially if you have the ability to walk away, to go ahead and walk away. Plus, you've got to know your tolerance level, what you can deal with and what you can't deal with. I also think it depends upon what kind of relationship you have with the person you're with. Sometimes, no matter how good or bad a situation is, you realize you can't be with them, and maybe its just the realization that you aren't supposed to be with this particular person, so I guess you keep going and hope that the right person is out there. I just know its a really nice idea. And maybe its my watching of silly chick flicks, but geez, I hope its true. I mean if its not I suppose I'll live, but, for once, just once, I'd like to believe that its possible that two people can love each other forever. And, not kill each other in the process anyways.