Day dreaming?

When I was a teen and I had a hard time dealing with the stresses of life, I would blast my music; sit on my bed and day dream stories in my head of epic romances, sure to knock any woman off her feet.  I would spend hours imagine what the perfect guys would say, do and even look like while trying to imagine what it would be like to be kissed by a hero’s lips. Today, I realized I don’t daydream any more.  My only guess as to why is most all the big decisions in life have already been made.  Now life is always full of the unknown, but what is left to romanticize? Old age, retirement?  I have a husband who like everything else in my life is very real, meaning he is now imagined hero who says and does all the right things.  I know longer imagine a cooing baby and what it would feel like to hold my child in my arms as I am granted the reality of that blessing every day, along with the screaming tantrums.  I don’t want to sound ungrateful for what I have because that is not at all what I am saying, instead, what is left to dream about?  Sure I have goals, but they are too intertwined in my reality to be something I can continually wish, a parable of the illusive enticing fruit.  Does anyone else still day dream, and if so what about.  I am not talking about longing for the quite day or a hot bath, but what place inside your head do you go to escape some of the harshness of reality?  Or is it even possible to do on our own anymore that we have become complacent and reliant on books and movies due to our age?  Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Chapter Eighteen: Blessings and Answered Prayers

My pregnancy and the deployment seemed to creep by.  I tried going out and being as active as I could, but I still did not know but one or two people in town and my morning sickness made me miserable at all times of the day.  I was hoping things would get better as I was now well into my second trimester, but the nausea and exhaustion continued.  My mom convinced me to come home for a month so we could take family pictures and so she could throw me a baby shower.  I was so excited for the opportunity to see my family and to celebrate my pregnancy with other people.  Seeing as I lived alone and knew next to no one, the prospects of going home before I became too pregnant was just what I needed.  All my siblings were in town and it was so nice to feel their love and support as they reached out to me as they tried to understand how emotionally draining a deployment was.   It was fun having family members rub my belly and give me the excitement and touches my husband was missing out on. 

My mom, once again went out of her way to put together a party for me where she invited her friends and mine to celebrate the miracle that was my pregnancy.  I was so appreciative and felt wrapped in love as person after person reached out to me with gifts and kind words to help bolster me up for the solitude I was returning to.  My mom tried to talk me into staying longer, but I was growing close to my third trimester and wouldn’t be able to travel much longer; somewhat reluctantly, I returned home.  When I did return home, I enrolled in a class at the hospital to give the information I would need about childbirth and child care.  My sweet aunt drove the hour to attend the classes with me so I would not feel as out of place and alone as others attended with their spouses. I learned a lot that gave me some peace of mind as I furthered my knowledge and had the support of all family members as they celebrated this time with me as they attempted to fill the gaps that were missing along with my husband.

I was still only averaging a call a week, usually meaning a twenty minute conversation.  Most of our conversations were all about me and the progression of the baby.  Josh would only talk about the sand storms or weather and occasionally about some of the friends he had made, but he avoided talking about his job other than it kept him busy.  There were a couple of times he would tell me weeks later that he had been on a patrol or a convoy and there had been no incidents, but I got what little information I did as he decided to share it with me.  I know he was trying to keep me from worrying, but I always worried, especially when there would be days of no phone, e-mail or facebook, which meant they were on blackout.  Blackouts terrified me because that meant a soldier was wounded or killed.  Everyone always told me that no news was good news, so I tried not to worry when sometimes I didn’t talk to my husband for two weeks rather than one.  It was hard to ignore the risks though as I knew Josh had already attended funeral services for two fallen soldiers since he had been over there and there were literally more every day.  I could tell Josh was becoming more aloof, but I tried to understand as I could only imagine the stresses he was dealing with over there. 

Shortly after I returned home from my vacation with family I began noticing how often my stomach was tightening up, causing me cramps on a very regular basis.  I called my doctor and asked if that was normal and was told to go into labor and delivery immediately.  I was terrified.  I was thankful to the classes I had been attending as I was at least familiar with the hospital and had been informed what to do when checking in.  Upon arrival, I was attached to machines to be monitored and it was determined pretty quickly that I was in fact contracting.  They began shots immediately to get the contractions to stop.  After four hours and three shots, my contractions were back under control.  The whole experience frightened me as I had no idea I had started labor other than a few cramps.  I was proud of myself that I had gone through the hospital ordeal on my own and talked myself up into believing that even if Josh didn’t make it home for the birth, I could do this.  Josh’s superiors were aware of my due date and had promised to schedule his two weeks R&R (rest and recuperation) during my due date in hopes the baby would come while he was home, but as always, there were no guarantees.  As you can imagine this disappointed me and stressed me out as Josh had missed all the firsts in his son’s life already: first kick, first hiccups, and the first hospital trip.  I hated to think that he would miss this miracles entrance into the world.  All I could do was have faith that everything would all work out.

After my trip to the hospital and my continued contractions throughout the days, I was put on bed rest.  Basically any time I started contracting, I needed to sit down, put my feet up and drink lots of water.  Seeing as I contracted every time I stood up, I spent most days in bed or in my chair watching television or playing on the computer.  Seeing as these were my only activities, the days seemed to stretch longer and I grew weary of doing the same things over and over, but was willing to do whatever it took to keep my unborn child safe.  The problem was that I was still all alone, which meant I still had to cook, clean and shop for myself.  I tried to always listen to my body but hated the days I ran out of food which meant the dreaded shopping trips.  I couldn’t walk down an aisle without having to wait several minutes before I would stop contracting enough to hit the next aisle.  I had tried to eat well most of my pregnancy, but once I hit this stage I was pretty much only capable of making frozen pizzas and macaroni and cheese as there was little to no preparation.  I puttered through my days and longed for the random times I would finally hear from my husband and hear the reassurance I needed that all was okay.  I know Josh continually worries about my condition and often times I found myself doing the same thing he did: I would only tell him the things I felt he needed to know without all the details that would make him worry.  Most important though, we always expressed our love and respect for one another so even though we were continents apart and abridging our experiences, we were still growing closer together.

I was surprised when one Sunday morning I saw an 888 number calling in; I knew that meant it was Josh but he had never called me during this time before as it was late over in Afghanistan.  I answered excited for the surprise call, but I could tell by the short sharpness of Josh’s voce that something wasn’t right.  I asked him immediately what was wrong and he let me know that he has been injured.  I asked him what happened and he explained he couldn’t tell me a whole lot due to safety and classifications but that there had been an incoming RPG (rocket propelled grenade) and he had gotten hit by some shrapnel.  He tried to joke it off as if there were nothing to worry about, saying it was just a scratch.  He said he had the opportunity to call me first and to be aware that the Army would be calling me to inform me that he had been injured and he didn’t want me to worry.  He then said he had to go and would call as soon as he could and quickly hung up the phone.

I literally felt my world crumbling around me.  The one thing I had feared had happened.  Josh’s conversation had been so short it didn’t put me at ease as I could tell there was something wrong and that it was certainly more than just a scratch if it was serious enough for the Army to call me.  I felt my hands trembling as I sat down and tried calling my mom and dad, but they were at church and no one was answering.  My mind was spinning with the information I had, knowing my husband was injured and half way around the world and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.  I called my siblings cell phones and my parent’s cell phones and finally called a friend and explained through my teats the call I had just received.  She promised to pray for him and sat attentively as I cried out all my deepest fears.  Fifteen minutes into the conversation I got a call back from my dad and switched phone lines to tell him the news.  He said he would spread the word around and have people start saying prayers for my injured husband.  I then had the task of calling Josh’s parents to let them know Josh had called me, but he had been injured.  I relayed the conversation word for word and I could hear the same fear in their voices as they thanked me for letting them know.  When I got off the phone I felt numb.  I knew very little and there was nothing I could do.  All I could do is sit and worry and wait for the phone call from the Army where I hoped I could get more information.  I tried to calm myself as I had at least heard his voice and he was able to call me, but if it wasn’t serious why had he not called me back yet?

I finally received a call from the army that afternoon.  A sergeant on rear detachment called to inform me that my husband had been injured over in Afghanistan.  I asked him what information he had, and he said he didn’t know much other than Josh’s wounds were classified as extremely serious.  Josh had been flown on a flight for life to Kandahar Air Field where he could receive some emergency medical treatment before they moved him to a hospital in Germany.  He informed me that Josh was in surgery as we spoke.  The sergeant then asked if I needed anything, but my head was empty of all thoughts as all I could think about was my husband stretched out on some hospital bed in a country I didn’t know.  I hung up the phone upset that Josh had left so much of the story out.  A scratch?! Why was he in surgery? What had really happened? Seriously injured?  If they were moving him to Germany, I knew that meant it was serious.  The fear I had that morning intensified as I wanted nothing more than to be by my husband’s side.  Not too soon afterwards, I received a call from my father in law as he had been told the same information.  He wanted to make sure I wasn’t upsetting myself into early labor and talked with me for an hour as we tried to come to terms with what was happening.  My mom and dad called my aunt and uncle who came up and sat with me as did my one friend in Clarksville.  I was so grateful for the love and support, but my heart ached as I waited desperately for more information.

Time crept by and I tossed and turned all night as I tried not to let my contractions intensify.  I cried for all the unknowns, I cried for my wounded husband and I cried for our unborn child in fears that he might grow up without a father.  Everyone tried to reassure me that Josh would be all right and I tried to believe that and honestly, deep down I did, but there was no proof that he would be.  I kept reminding myself again and again that at least he had called and he had been coherent and joking about a flesh wound, but I still feared.  I called the sergeant I had talked with back the next morning and asked for new information, but he still didn’t have any.  He said he would continue trying to get through and would call as soon as he had any new information.  The waiting was driving me crazy.  All I knew was Josh was hit by shrapnel from a bomb and had needed surgery and that it was serious enough to evacuate him out of the country.  My day was another mess of emotions as I waited with my phone gripped in my hand all day. 

Almost twenty four hours after I received a call from the Army I received another call from my husband.  I know he could hear the fear in my voice as I desperately demanded he tell me how he was doing.  He told me he was sore, but he was okay.  I asked him where he had been hit and he informed me that he had taken shrapnel to his neck.  The reality and the seriousness of the situation hit me hard.  I tried being strong for Josh, but there was no hiding my sobbing over the phone.  Josh assured me that he was okay.  I told him that he should have told me how serious it was and I was upset I had to find out from the Army that he had needed surgery.  He apologized as he thought he had told me that information and once again assured me that everything was all right.  I argued that he needed to stop down playing his injury as I already knew they were going to be sending him to Germany.  This piece of news caught Josh off guard as he had not heard that himself and said he didn’t think that would be necessary.  He told me how during the surgery they went in to collect the metal that had entered his neck and they had been able to get everything out except for one small piece, which was perfectly safe staying inside of him for the rest of his life.  There was no threat to him bleeding out or having any further complications so he hoped they would not send him to Germany.  He then said he as receiving morphine and would need to hang up.  He promised to call as soon as he could and with that I once again was left with my emotions and the little pieces of new information that I had.

Josh had been hit in the neck.  Had the shrapnel hit his jugular, I knew I wouldn’t have gotten a phone call from the Army; instead I very easily could have been getting the dreaded knock on the door.  Only later did I learn that Josh’s injury was only 6 mm away from hitting the crucial blood vein, meaning he was only 6 mm away from death.  Later that evening I received another call from the Army to inform me that Josh was out of surgery and stable, but that they still planed on moving him to Germany as soon as a flight opened up and to be expecting call to make travel arrangements if I wanted to go be with him in Germany.  I was feeling frustrated as Josh kept making it seem like he was fine and the Army made it seem like my husband was dying.  Then a whole new fear hit me.  I was seven and half month pregnant and on bed rest, no airline or doctor would okay me to travel to Germany.  None of this seemed fair.  Every time Josh and I seemed to be starting life over, something big and traumatic happened.  This was our first deployment, Josh was only a support MOS who very rarely left the FOB, why was it him that had been seriously injured?  On the other hand I knew even in his injury it was miraculous that he was even still with me, so I tried not to be upset or bitter, but it felt like every time we took one step forward, we seemed to take two steps back.

The days passed with conflicting information.  Josh kept telling me he was headed back to his FOB, while the Army kept telling me they were sending him to Germany.  The Army even called to make arrangements and agreed that I would be unable to travel in my condition, but assured me they would fly Josh’s parents out to Germany if they wanted.  After a week, Josh was released from the hospital and put in one of the recovery tents at KAF (Kandahar Air Field) where he began hearing the experiences of some of the infantry men in recovery.  Josh continued to downplay his injury until he admitted to me he relived it in detail and realized just how close a call it was.  I asked him if he would tell me about it and he promised he would when he got home, but for now he wanted me to focus on my pregnancy and he would focus on his recovery.  Although I was glad Josh had the miraculous recovery that he did, I was disappointed that e had to go through all that we did and after it all Josh still returned back to work.  After two weeks Josh returned to his FOB, and it was back to waiting for his calls and hoping this baby didn’t come before Josh’s R&R.

I now worried more than ever for Josh’s safety as I learned that even on the FOB, there were no guarantees to a soldier’s safety.  A month before my due date my mom drove out to stay with me which was a very welcome help and comfort.  I now no longer feared going into labor and not having anyone to drive me to the hospital.  I now had someone to help with the grocery shopping, housework and cooking and I finally had a friend and companion to share every day with.  Mom helped me get the last of the baby stuff I was still in need of as well as gave me suggestions for nursing bras.  We organized and got the nursery ready and began getting me out of the house in small doses to get me in shape for delivery after my long period of inactivity due to bed rest.  Before I knew it, there were only a couple days left before Josh was due home for two weeks.  I spent many of those days dreaming about what it would feel like in my husband’s arms after six months apart.  I couldn’t wait for him to feel our son kick through my belly and to see me in my entire pregnant splendor.  I longed to feel his kisses on my lips and I longed to run my finger over the scar that almost changed our lives forever, which was now my husband’s pride and joy.  There was so much we missed out on two weeks just didn’t seem like enough time, but that always seemed to be the problem: I just never had enough time with my husband.

The day I long awaited for finally arrived: it was time to pick Josh up from the hospital.  I was a little nervous about driving to the airport in Nashville by myself being as pregnant as I was, but I would go cross country to see Josh if that’s what was needed.  I had my doctor’s appointment that morning and found out I was dilated to a three.  With the happy news I quickly made my way to the airport and arrived just as Josh’s plane was landing.  As I didn’t arrive soon enough to meet him at the gate, I waited as patiently as I could by the luggage carousel.  Soldiers began spilling over the stairs and I couldn’t help but cry as I watched fellow spouses and loved ones like me find their loved one.  I waited patiently for my reunion until I finally saw Josh come down the stairs.  As soon as he saw me he galloped and skipped stairs, embracing me in a power hug that I had been needing for the last six months.  He rubbed my belly and grinned, commenting on how large and pregnant I looked.  I couldn’t help but smile back, thinking that finally the world was right again.

We went out and got lunch and spent the day in each other’s arms, making up on all the lost time we had spent apart.  I could tell it was a bit of a culture shock being back from Afghanistan as he woke up confused and looking for his weapon several times during the night and mumbling incoherent shop talk, but I didn’t care.  Josh was home and he was home in time for the birth of our son.  The next day we began predicting when Dorian would make his appearance.  We went for walks and talked and napped throughout the day.  I was craving pizza so Josh and I went out and tried a new pizza parlor and having finished decided to finish off the day with a nice stroll by the river.  As soon as we got to the river though I felt leakage in my pants and was horrified that I had just peed myself.  I asked Josh if we could go home and somewhat reluctantly told him the reason why.  He of course obliged and grinned at my embarrassment, but I felt the same sensation again.  It was an odd experience as I didn’t feel like I had to urinate, but I had heard several woman complain of such mishaps especially in the ending stages of their pregnancy.  When I got home I emptied my bladder and changed my underwear and walked into the kitchen where Josh was to try and explain it was a natural occurrence when it happened again.  Seeing as I had emptied myself, I knew whatever I was leaking, was not urine.  It was a clear liquid and reality finally hit me.  My water was leaking.  It was time to go to the hospital.  Our baby was on his way.

This baby is coming!

So I have been contracting nonstop, day and night for the last three days, which as you can imagine is exhausting.  I have been vacillating back and forth if it was worth going into the hospital for since it takes 3-4 hours of my day and I don’t always have a ready babysitter on hand.  Also, I wasn’t aware of having lost my mucus plus and my discharge hadn’t changed so I assumed nothing was changing.  However, last night after another long day of contracting I asked Josh if he would check me just in case.  I was expecting a closed uterus as always, but Josh was just as surprised when I was when he discovered there was a hole, he predicted I was only 1 cm dilated, so nothing serious at all, but it shows that my body really is trying to have this baby.  As of today (Monday) I am 36 weeks.  Full term is considered 37 weeks and I highly doubt I will dilate to a six (into active labor) within a week. Seeing as with my last pregnancy I was stuck at a three for two weeks.  So rather than going into the hospital all week to have them stop the contractions Josh and I decided we would keep an eye on my dilation.  If I get to a three I will go into the hospital and have the contractions stopped as I do want my baby girl to be full term, but if I make it to next week, I plan on letting this baby come when she is ready.  I only hope this doesn’t interfere with my son’s birthday party this Saturday.  I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday, so my goal is to last until then and see what my doctor has to say.

Nesting and no one cares

So the last week or so have been very stressful for me as I am cataloging all the things that need to get done before the baby arrives.  These are important things too, nothing trivial like needing to organize my linen closet (yes Lydia, that was for you).  Many of the tasks that need done will take me an entire day’s worth of time or only a couple of hours if I had the help of my husband.  However, he doesn’t seem to understand the need or the importance of getting the tasks done.  I am almost 36 weeks along and as you know have been on bed rest due to premature labor…meaning this baby can come at ANY time.  I have been busting my butt trying to get things ready, but I feel I am so behind because with my last pregnancy 1. Josh was deploying so we did a TON of preparation when I was only in my first trimester, before he left. 2. It was out first kid, so we took all the time in the world planning and preparing and 3. I had nothing else to do with my time that I spent hours organizing, shopping and preparing for our little expected one.  I haven’t had any of that with this pregnancy and I am all the sudden feeling very ill prepared.  For example, it had taken me three weeks worth of nagging to get the baby seat put into the car (which happened only a couple of days ago) and I still need the bassinet to be put together so that after my cesarean, I won’t have to walk all the way to the kids room to nurse her. I really need to find something I can wear after I deliver.  Having to do a caesarean, I can guarantee I will not be able to wear pants as the cut is right there at the waistband of most maternity pants sit, so I need a dress/gown.  Simple right?   Oh but I still need to be able to pull the gown down so I can breastfeed.  I can’t afford a nursing gown, so pretty much I will have to take a trip to Wal-Mart and put myself at the mercy of granny robes that actually fit what I need (which yup, still needs to be done).  So I can’t even begin packing my hospital bag, until I have that item.  This doesn’t even cover all the baby items that still need to be purchased, but have to be put off another week or two before the next pay check.  It is really stressing me out that we don’t have an infant tub yet.  Not exactly a necessity, but when I am the one washing the baby, and once again have a huge gash in my belly and the problems from my back, it makes the process doable.  This is such a long freak out rant.  I guess call it crazy mama nesting hormones or whatever, but I need to get this crap done!  Just spent the entire evening setting up diapers in the kid’s room, putting together diaper bags and rearranging and cleaning my room so that when Josh does put the bassinet up, we have a spot for it…which remind me we also have to cover the windows with that plastic stuff due to the awful draft in our room.  See it just never stops!  What stresses you out the most your last couple weeks of pregnancy?

Numbers

I have talked about this with a couple friends before, but since I have such a large following on my blog now, I hope to get a lot of feedback as this is really interesting to me.  This is what I want you to do. Go through the numbers one through nine and tell me your first gut reaction: is the number male or female?(PLEASE DO SO NOW AS I AM ABOUT TO POST WHAT THEY ARE TO ME AND I DO NOT WANT MY PICKS TO INFLUENCE YOUR CHOICES).

1= male               2=female            3=male               4=male               5=male              

6=female            7=male               8=male               9=female

Why is it so easy to associate gender to inanimate things?  What is it about the numbers that make it male or female?  I notice for me all the straight lined numbers (1,4,7) are all male.  I put 5 as male, but really I see it as both male and female.  I would love to see your predictions and why you thing you chose the genders you did.

Predictions

This post is for mommies out there.   When I was pregnant with my first child, I felt this incredibly strong connection.  He was my little miracle and I would literally spend hour of my day talking to him through my belly, in hopes of bonding with him, which I felt I did.  I felt like even before he was born I knew his personality and could predict the type of person he would be.  I hate to admit it, but I don’t remember a lot of my predictions and sadly, I haven’t invested the same amount of “bonding time” with this new baby the same way I did with him.  As silly as it sounds, I feel as if I don’t know her as well since my mind and my focus have been on my son and my husband as of late.  Although I feel as if I don’t know her as well, I don’t think that means I can’t receive inspiration as to whom and what she can become.  So this post is me taking a quiet moment to think about this beautiful girl I have growing in me and come up with some of the characteristics and attributes I feel she might posses as she takes on the world.

I think she is going to be very stubborn, just like her mom and brother.  I think she will have a more fiery temperament and easier to anger than her brother was, but that just means she will have a lot of spirit.  I think she will be a passionate individual and high energy like her brother.  I think she will be the type of individual who has to learn everything for herself, even if that means leaning every lesson the hard way.  I think she will be very contemplative and even aggressive as she interacts with the world around her. I think she will be very sweet, and understand how to communicate and interact with people, but would prefer time on her own.

Of course I could be very off on any number of these predictions and some may fit her in childhood while others may be learned in adulthood.  I would love to hear from you though.  Did you ever feel you could predict who and what your children would be before they exited your womb?

Chapter Seventeen: Miracles Do Happen

I had done a little research on apartments during the little time of preparation we had so I had a list of a couple places I wanted to check out when we got into town.  We spent the first night in a hotel and it was during that night of intimacy with my husband that I realized it had been six weeks since my last menstruation.  I was worried.  Although I was by no means regular, I was scared this was another flare up of the PCOS and I feared I would have to get back on medication to make sure I didn’t go another several months without menstruating.  I knew I would have to see a doctor again.  I hated the prospect of this, seeing as this was our first day in town and already I knew something was different with my body and I would have to go to a doctor and hear the same disappointments over again.  Every doctor always insisted on a pregnancy test first and I had come to dread and hate those tests that only mocked my infertility.  I decided I would get a test and do it at home so at least I wouldn’t have any false hope in the doctor’s office.  Before hand I had always spent the price to get the high tech digital readers, but there seemed no point in wasting money.  A friend told me I could purchase a pregnancy test at the dollar store so Josh and I planned on stopping by a Dollar Tree before we headed to our first viewing of an apartment.  

The store was right around the corner from the apartment I was most excited about.  As we were checking out we were asking questions about the neighborhood.  Things looked good and Josh and I both felt happy with the prospect of living in Clarksville, Tennessee.  After we viewed the apartment we knew it was where we wanted to live.  After signing a lease we only had to spend one more night in a hotel and were able to move in as soon as the next day.  Even though we could move in instantly, it would still be another five days before our belonging arrived from Colorado.  Since we had gotten a two bedroom apartment we decided to make the second bedroom an entertainment room/guest room so we went out and purchased a futon for the new room as well as a place to sleep until our furniture arrived.  After the chaos calmed down from the day I noticed the pregnancy test sitting on the bathroom sink.  I had forgotten we had purchased it and debated on when I should take it.  I knew for the most accurate results you were supposed to test in the morning, but since I already knew what the results would be there was no reason I shouldn’t get it over with, even though it was five in the evening.  I read over the directions for the new test and waited for the results.  When the appropriate time had passed I was having a hard time reading what I was seeing as it didn’t automatically tell me not pregnant like the automated tests had.  There was a really light second pink line, which made it look like I was pregnant and I knew that couldn’t be right.  I called Josh into the bathroom to have him tell me what it looked like.  We probably looked like a couple of idiots staring down at the pee stick for a good five minutes trying to determine what it was telling us, but after our joint effort Josh agreed that it looked like it was saying I was pregnant.  Neither Josh nor I believed this and decided it would be best to go and buy one of the expensive tests just to make sure so we were not getting any false hopes that always broke us up inside.

We went to Wal-Mart right away and bough the tests I typically used.  As soon as we got home Josh kept coaxing me into going and testing, but I knew for the test to be accurate I needed to drink more water first and to be honest, I was in no hurry to read that the results of the first test had indeed been wrong.  After Josh and I had unpacked a little more and watched a movie I decided there was no point in putting off the inevitable.  I told Josh I was testing and walked into the bathroom and shut the door.  I wish I could say I was hopeful, but to be honest, hope was dead.  We had now been trying for three years to conceive and used every medication available and all had failed us.  I had been told that I could not get pregnant, so why hope for something I had finally come to accept as impossible?  The two minutes passed fairly quickly and I glanced at the test. 

I came out of the bathroom with tears streaming down my checks, where Josh was waiting for me.  I could see the sadness and heaviness in his eyes as he ran to me saying it was okay, we would always keep trying.  We would be parents.  I chocked on my sobs, unable to talk, all the while shoving the test in his face.  These weren’t tears of sorrow; we had finally been blessed with a miracle.  I was pregnant!  According to my last cycle I was six weeks pregnant.

It took a lot of examining the test before Josh or I could come to believe this wasn’t just a dream.  Finally after three years, I had my first positive pregnancy test.  We began looking up doctors immediately, knowing I would need a specialist due to my back and the PCOS.  I set up an appointment for when I was ten weeks along and just hoped that I wouldn’t miscarry before then.  Having gone through the difficulty we did in just getting pregnant I feared it was just all too good to be true and kept waiting to find myself bleeding on morning knowing we lost the gift we were given.  I wanted so badly to shout from the rooftops that I finally had a little baby growing in my belly, but I feared I would not be able to keep the sweet miracle, so Josh and I agreed we would wait as long as we could before we started telling family and friends.  Life just took a sudden turn and Josh and I could not be more excited about it.

It was so exciting to get our furniture when it did arrive as we had lived without a lot of our items since we left our house in Fort Collins before we moved to Pennsylvania.  It was like Christmas opening each box, discovering items we had long forgotten about.  I also became quickly aware of how much stuff we had amassed in our house.  Going from a nice sized house to a two bedroom apartment was a drastic change and we had to end up donating close to half of our belonging to make things fit.  Unpacking was fun as I got to set up our own household for the first time in over a year and I was so excited to have my husband here living with me again. 

Josh reported to work soon after our move to Clarksville and I filled up the days unpacking and organizing our new home. After the first day of work Josh came home with the news I was dreading.  The rumors had been right, Josh was not only deploying soon, but within a matter of a few short months; just enough time for him to get the gear he needed.  I knew deployment was something I would have to deal with the timing of it all seemed so unfair.  Finally, after all these years we were blessed with a pregnancy and Josh would miss most of my pregnancy and the first six months of this child’s life.  I knew after all the work I had done on myself I could handle doing it all alone, but I didn’t feel it was fair to me, Josh or the child.  None of this mattered though, the reality was this: I would get to live with my husband for two months before he would have to leave for an entire year, I would have to go through a pregnancy, possibly a birth, and the first six months of our child’s life without him and I would have to do it all in a new place I didn’t know.

I had the option to move home with my parents but seeing as we had just gone through the process to get our belongings and an apartment it seemed silly to have to pack everything back up and move back home again.  This was supposed to be our new start and whether Josh was physically here or not, that what I planned on doing.  I decided to stay in Clarksville during the year Josh would be in Afghanistan.  The two months before Josh’s deployment was once again a whirlwind of things that needed to be gotten done.  Between shopping for the items Josh would need for deployment and the baby items I would need while he was gone, it felt as if we were at the store every night.  We were blessed to have money in savings (which we thought would be going towards an adoption) so that we could purchase the big items together.  Since Josh would be leaving before we found out the gender, we decided to go ahead and purchase everything together but we would just pick things with neutral gender themes which we both preferred anyway.  Josh had always been a Winnie the Pooh fan as a child and suggested we made that the theme for the baby’s room.  I agreed, and we were both pleasantly surprised to find how many Pooh themed items there were.  It was pure bliss for Josh and me to pick out items piece by piece for our bundle we were expecting.  I took pleasure in the fuss Josh made over me, offering to run to the store for whatever whim or craving I might be having.  Although the joy of what we were expecting was elating, we still feared the worst.  Even after my positive pregnancy test, I still felt the need to test again just to make sure nothing had changed. 

Josh came with me to my ten week appointment and we saw the peanut sized baby growing within me.  As soon as we heard the heartbeat we both broke down in tears.  Josh held my hand as we both wept with joy as we viewed the child we were finally having.  Although I still felt like this was all too good to be true, the reality started to hit me.  I felt like the child was a girl, while Josh felt like it was a boy.  We picked out names for either gender and got to work setting up the items he or she would need.  Josh put together the crib and changing table and although it was too soon to put on the Pooh bedding and decorations, we planed and purchased it all together. 

Josh and I made the most of the two months we had together as we dated and prepared for our year apart.  I expressed my fear that something would happen to him or that he would come back different, but Josh always brushed way such ideas promising nothing would change him and he would come home to me and our baby no matter what.  I knew these were promises he really didn’t get to decide to make, but his reassurance was enough that I was able to be as strong as I could as we faced what a deployment actually meant.  As the time got closer we became aware that Josh was being sent to the Southeast part of Afghanistan, which is the birthplace of the Taliban.  Due to this being a new location the troops had moved into that meant there wouldn’t be any internet for the first couple of months, so we would have very limited access to one another.  This also meant the dangers and risks of his job were a lot higher as there were an increased amount of RPGs, IEDs and fire fights in the area.  I tried to calm my fears, but being the person I am, I always feel the need to prepare for the worst.  These fears were further brought to reality when we had to make Josh’s living will and testament.  It was all just happening so fast and before I knew it Josh was scheduled to leave.

Unless you have been in a similar situation it is hard to describe the emotions you are feeling as you hug your husband, terrified to let go because you have no guarantee you will ever get to hold him in your arms again; knowing that when you let go, you will not see him for a year as he will be across the globe, on the other side of the world. For me there were such conflicting emotions as I took pride viewing my husband in his uniform, knowing this is what he chose to do.  He wanted to do his part in America’s fight for freedom and protection and I admired him for his choices, but the fear I felt rattled my whole being as it spoke deep within me.  Why did I have to do this pregnancy alone?  Why would my baby now their father for the first six months of their life?  How would I function as I really had no one but myself to rely on?  How would Josh cope with all the stresses he would be under?  Would he be safe?  Would he come home?  There were never any answers, just more questions.

As I kissed Josh goodbye and drove off post I cried.  I cried because I would have to live apart from my best friend for another year and I cried for all the uncertainties.  As I walked into my empty apartment I kept myself busy, waiting day after day for the phone call that he arrived safely.  It was eleven days before I heard from Josh and when I did, it was a short five minute conversations to let me know he was at his FOB (Forward operating Base), he missed me and he would call any chance he could.   It was a couple days after that first phone call that all the really deep emotions hit me.  I was watching television and a commercial cam on that had a mom, a dad and a new baby.  Something so simple and it was the straw that broke my back.  I lie in bed and cried for hours at what Josh and I were both sacrificing.  After I purged myself of my built up emotions, I picked myself up and began living my life day by day. 

My morning sickness was horrendous, and really it was an all day sickness as I had trouble keeping anything down.  Everything I ate made me sick and I lacked any sort of energy.  Seeing as we now had this unexpected gift, I decided graduate school was not what I needed.  Between being pregnant and a new mom all on my own there was no point in adding the stresses of school to that, especially now that being a professor was no longer my goal: being a mom was.  Because of this choice I at least had the luxury of sleeping whenever I was tired and mulling about the house at my pleasure as my body began experiencing all the changes that came with pregnancy.  I tried to keep myself busy as I fretted constantly about my husband and was relieved when I finally heard from him.  I averaged about a call a week and many a times our conversations were cut short as there were incoming rounds coming onto the FOB.  I had many friends who tried to reach out and support me saying they knew how hard it was for me because their husband travelled with work a lot, or they knew how difficult it was to be pregnant and on their own and although I appreciated these stories, I felt like no one understood the ache and concern I constantly carried in my heart.  It was more than just my husband being absent, or being on my own; it was the constant worry that something horrible was going to happen that might forever leave me a widow.

When I was twenty weeks along, my younger sister who lived in Nashville, came down to go to my ultra sound with me as we made our last minute guesses as to what the gender would be.  I was still confidant it was a girl and was so excited to know for sure what our little baby was going to be.  From then on out it would no longer be and it; he or she would have a name.  My sister and I looked with excitement at the baby moving around in my belly.  This miracle, this blessing was now no longer and it; he was Dorian Thomas Borland.  Josh had the opportunity to call that day and I shared with him the blessed news over the phone that he was going to have a son.  I could hear the tender love and excitement over the news as well as the smug I told you it was boy tone.  Although we were continents apart, we still got to share that sweet moment together.

Additions and revisions for chapter 13 and 14

Chapter Thirteen: Year Two

Josh and I were ecstatic about getting into our new house and my parents were instrumental in making that happen.  My mom helped me find the right paint we would need in all the different rooms of the house and helped with input on what colors would look nice.  She then spent many a day in our work in progress paining room after room with me.  My dad helped up find a great price for wood flooring and he helped install it as he taught Josh how to continue in the work when my dad was no longer available to be there.  We all poured our sweat and time into our work and I was surprised at how quickly this house felt like my home.   I loved the colors that brightened the walls and the cherry hardwood floors that made it all feel classy.  I began placing each piece of furniture with care, taking into account aesthetics and comfort.  In just a couple months, this house was pretty much everything I could hope for.  Seeing as we were in no rush to finish the basement Josh and I lived upstairs and used the entire basement as storage and housing for the two cats we adopted: Sakura and Books.

In a matter of months, we practically flipped the state of our house and had it set up and functional before it was time for me to return to school as I started my last year of college.  We bought a large area rug to cover the living room floor, which just further accented our furniture.  We replaced windows and painted the living room a grey green to match the furniture we had.  We loved the open floor plan as the house felt open and breezy at all times.  I felt even more like an adult as I bought house plants and cared for the kittens now living with us.  I was growing up and I loved feeling so successful as we moved into the world as adults and began moving out of the status of just newlyweds or college students.  

Josh and I loved our house, but we soon realized that despite our research and preparation there were several things we forgot to account for.  After utilities, rent, tax and other daily expenses we realized that it was just a matter of time that we would be spending more than we were bringing in.  The thought terrified me. I had never been in debt and didn’t want to face that possibility now.  I hated to ask Josh to try and find a different job since he enjoyed the one he had, but he realized he wanted a job where he could provide for me and our future family and hopefully find something more long term.  I felt a little guilty as I was only working eight hours a week seeing as most my time was devoted to school work, but Josh put my mind at ease that something would come up, even if it meant him getting a second job.  Although our solution wasn’t solved immediately, it wasn’t too long before a good friend of ours raved about his new job in the oil field.  He wasn’t bashful at all when he shared with us what he was earning and even offered to set Josh up with an interview.  Although neither one of us were very excited about the prospect since it meant long hours and travel, we decided it was worth looking into.

Josh went to the interview and was hired to begin schooling for his CDL (Commercial Driver’s License) to be able to drive a big rig (their fracking equipment) to all the different locations.  Although they let him know he would be traveling with the job, he would receive per diem and start off at an hourly rate that was double what he was making at the furniture warehouse.  Seeing what he could make, we were sold on the job as it was answer to our financial problems.  Plus the company was paying for him to learn to drive a big rig, a skill that he could carry with him the rest of his life.  We were excited for this new change. 

School continued to go very well for me as I excelled in my classes and felt fulfilled and enriched with what I learned.  I read on average four books a week and usually had to write two papers a week, but I loved the way it opened my eyes and taught me to think.  Josh was great at supporting me with my school work and I always missed him when I was preoccupied with all school required of me, but I felt fulfilled as I stretched my mind and my abilities.  Josh surprisingly enjoyed the new job he had gotten from our friend and excelled at what he was doing.  Although he didn’t enjoy driving a semi, he did so safely.  He loved the fracking part of his job which required a learned skill and physical labor, which Josh has always enjoyed.  He came home proud now that we had double the income to live off of.  We both maintained busier schedules and sadly there were days we didn’t see each other at all, but we were both enriching ourselves and supporting the other as we advanced ourselves into the world.  We still made time to date and Josh still made it a priority that every chance we got, to take off in the car driving along, with the intention of getting lost.  We had many a great adventure this way as we viewed beautiful scenery, hiked hidden trails, and picnicked out in the middle of nowhere.  Life was good and although I didn’t think it was possible, I fell in love with my husband more and more as the days passed. 

Unfortunately, Josh’s job started taking him away more and more and it was not unusual for him to be gone three weeks at a time on a job.  I pinned for him, being the doting wife as I was, but was thankful to have as many tasks as I did to keep me busy during those times of separation.  It was easier to deal with these separations knowing how much Josh loved what he did and how proud he was to be the provider he was being.  The money was nothing to snub your nose at either, so despite the loneliness of some nights, we both felt like this was something to help us grow stronger and learn to be a little less co-dependent on each other. 

Our many trips to my parent’s house had helped things considerably as they had a change to get to know Josh the way I did.  They were able to see the way he treated me with love and respect, they could see the way he made me happy, and they could see how he provided for me.  Life really was looking up and although there was still many a day I struggled with back pain, I was so very thankful that my life had led me to where it was. 

Although Josh and I had been married, we still believed that if we were sealed in God’s holy temple, our union would not be earthly, it would be eternal and we made it our goal to accomplish just that.  My life with Josh was going exactly how I had planned it and nothing made me happier than experiencing life together.  After a year and a half of marriage I was sealed to Josh for time and all eternity on March 21, 2007.  Since I never had a reception for my wedding, my mom took it upon herself to plan, pay and organize a reception that included family friends as well as our friends.  Especially now that we were newly settled into our new house she was very aware of how gifts and gift cards would come in handy.  She decorated and had finger foods, but what I was most excited about was the wedding cake we finally got.  It was beautiful and although I was never a fan of being in the spot light of functions such as these, I appreciated all the work my mom put into it when I saw all she had done for us.  To be quite honest, I was very rude about the whole thing though and I greatly regret how I behaved.  Here was my mother, going out of her way to help us out and show her love and support of us and sadly I saw it as an act of contrition for how things had played out before.  I know I hurt her feelings by downplaying and even snubbing some of these great acts of kindness she performed for me and I regret that what should have brought us closer together, now due to me, we seemed just as separated as before.  I want to say that I was trying to mend my hurt feelings, but pride got in the way and I had a hard time letting go of those feeling of rejection I had felt so deeply.  Despite my crappy attitude, the day was beautiful and we received many beautiful gifts and gift cards to further make our new house a home.

Now that we were eternally bound, had a home and a very reliable and substantial income, we decided I would go off of birth control seeing as I only had a couple months of school left.  The timing seemed perfect because our life together was so perfect and we wanted nothing more than to enter the world of parenthood.  Josh’s job called him away more and more, and my schedule became more hectic with graduation approaching that as the months slipped by I accounted our lack of conception to my body adjusting to its natural cycle, the stress I was under, as well as the sporadic attempts we had during those crazy months.  Despite it all though, every month I hoped with all my heart I would be blessed with the gift of a child.  My cycle was all over the place that many times I would test believing this was the month that would change my life.  However, month after month I was disappointed.  I never voiced these disappointments as I knew I was probably over reacting.  I knew it took some women up to six months to get pregnant after going off birth control, so I tried to be as patient as possible.

As my graduation date approached, so did the stress of what I would do after graduation.  I had always considered the possibility of graduate school in the back of my mind, but now that the time was here, I felt ill prepared.  I vacillated back and forth as to what my next move should be.  By the time I made my decision I only had a month to take my GRE before my application was due.  This didn’t give me much time to study and I did what little preparation I could before I enrolled in the test.  I felt completely unprepared as I walked into the testing room.  You are given five hours for the test, but after two I had finished as best I could, knowing I had probably guessed on more questions than I had worked out.  I was disheartened, but was glad I had a high and steady GPA to help out my application.  I couldn’t shake the feeling of failure though and went in and talked to my advisor who assured me the GRE scores didn’t weigh into the application process at all unless it was a really good score that would set me apart from others, but it would not be detrimental at all.  This was a big relief.  The further I got in my application process the more aware of all the costs I would have and with the strength of my application I applied for a graduate teaching assistantship.  There were very few of these spots open, but if I could acquire this honor I would have the privilege of teaching a 100 or 200 level class while my tuition would be paid for.  I received several prestigious recommendations and I felt confident as I turned in my application for Graduate school. 

My school year was coming to an end and along with it, the news that Josh’s yard he worked out of would be closing down.  Here we finally found a job that would support us and that he enjoyed and he was now faced with the decision of having to try and find a new job, or to move with the company to Pennsylvania.  Josh, knowing I had just applied to graduate school in Colorado asked what I thought he should do.  What were we to do?  We had a house and a mortgage payment; good jobs were hard to find seeing as Josh only had his GRE.  Even if we stayed, I would not be able to afford school without the income he was making now.  I told him we should think it over and weigh all our options as we still had a little over a month to decide, but deep down I already knew we would be leaving the town and the house that had become our home. 

I was very proud when I graduated with a 3.5 GPA.  I now had a BA in English literature with a concentration in both history and philosophy.  I was a college graduate.  Although I had not received the teaching position, I had been accepted into the graduate program.  I think I took this for granted until I saw how many of my friends were not accepted and I took pride in the privilege I had  to work toward my dream job: to teach at a university. 

Here we were coming up on the end of our second year and I felt Josh needed to make the decision whether we stay and find a new job or whether we moved.  After all he had spent the last two years supporting me with my education, I felt as though it was time for me to return the favor and support him in what he wanted to do.  We spent the week of our honeymoon camping in Yellowstone with Josh’s family; it as during this beautiful week full of adventure that Josh decided we would move to Pennsylvania.  He enjoyed the work and the pay and liked the security it offered us.  Once we got home we had two weeks before Josh had to report to work on the other side of the country.  We decided that we would move to Pennsylvania for a year, which would give us the opportunity to save up a lot of money while we rented out the house to some friends of mine.  After a year we would have a cushion were we could return to our home and allow Josh some time to find a job, while I reapplied to graduate school.  Everything seemed to fall into place, reassuring me that this was what needed to happen in our lives.  Never had I planned on moving outside of Colorado, and yet this whirlwind swept us away in a week’s time and planted us in Bentleyville, PA where we had three weeks of a paid hotel to aid us as we searched for a place to live. 

This year had been much more chaotic than the last, but my love for Josh only changed in that it had grown increasingly.  I thought after two complete years of marriage I would know everything there was to know about my husband, but life is a fickle thing which stretches us into growth and I loved getting to know my soul mate each and every day, and although the next year was full of uncertainties, I looked forward to traveling through this new chaos with my best friend.

 

Chapter Fourteen:  Regrets and Mistakes

Our third year of marriage started out in a Best Western.  Josh would get up and leave early for work while I tried to find things to entertain myself while he was gone all day.  As a result most of my time consisted of watching TV or writing.  Seeing as Bentleyville was such a small town their only fast food options were McDonalds and Subway.  Anything else required a forty minute trip into Washington PA.  Never in my life had I been anywhere so secluded.  Growing up in the suburbs of Denver, this lifestyle of living in a place where people have known each other for their whole lives was foreign to me.  I felt like I was at an impasse because for the first time in my life I had absolutely nothing to do.  Now that school was over I felt lost as I had nothing to accomplish.  There wasn’t much hope of getting a job because the only thing that I could do with my degree was to teach, and I wouldn’t be able to get state certified before the school year and there was no desire to drive the forty minutes to Washington for some minimum wage job.  After the first three weeks, I already hated life in Pennsylvania.

We were able to find a really good deal on a duplex in some burrow known as Cokeburg, PA.  The “town” and I use that term loosely, consisted of three streets of houses, a general store that was so old I didn’t trust any of the food they sold and a post office.  That’s it.  My parent’s subdivision was bigger than this “town” was.  Our duplex used to be a house that had been split in two.  Our land lord told us how the house was built in 1903 and that the town sits on top of an old mine.  That’s where the town got its name.  The houses were built for the workers in the mine and the runoff from the coal they mined was called coke; hence, Cokeburg.  Almost all of the miners were Italian immigrants, meaning most of Cokeburg is still a mass majority of descendants from that early time.  He went on and on about the quaint charm of the neighborhood, but all I saw was depression.  There were some houses that were literally falling apart and condemned while other houses should have been condemned, yet still housed families.  The piping of the water system was so old that chemicals from the mine leaked into making the water unsafe to drink unless you wanted to get cancer and/or lung disease; this meant that on my weekly long distance trips to Wal-Mart, I would have to make sure and buy enough drinking water for the week.  Our house had been renovated and even though it was certainly an older home, it was nice and up to date.  We were excited to get the deal we got for this spacious, two bedroom duplex, but I was less than thrilled with the location.  Cokeburg is literally out in the middle of nowhere.  If I wanted McDonalds, I would have to drive fifteen minutes back to Bentleyville.   There was nowhere to go and nothing to do.  My cell phone didn’t even have reception within my little burrow.  I felt utterly lost and alone. 

When Josh was away at work I felt uneasy.  I had never had trouble being by myself before and honestly I usually cherished the personal time I had, but in that house I felt on edge.  I always had that weird sensation that someone was watching me.  I was terrified to do my laundry in the basement and I chastised myself time and time again for being so silly as I had never been scared of anything, but I couldn’t shake the heaviness I always seemed to feel.  The cats were nice to have as companions, but even their behavior made me weary and uncomfortable as one cat in particular would always puff up and hiss at one particular spot in the basement.  I felt like I was going crazy when I would hear footsteps upstairs even though I was the only one home and the cats would be sleeping.  Overall I felt I was always at a high state of awareness and it took its toll on my nerves.  I communicated these fears to Josh, but rather than dispel them, he agreed that he had experienced similar occurrences, which only fueled my agitation.

On top of this heightened anxiety, I had absolutely nothing to do for the first time I could ever remember.  We didn’t have TV or cable, and we didn’t have internet as our main goal to coming to PA was to save up as much money as we could.  So I literally wondered around the empty house all day by myself hoping to find something to capture my attention.  I was blessed that the family that lived in the other half of the house were part of the same company Josh was and on top of that they were also members of the same church we were.  I was soon introduced and this sweet vibrant woman reached out to me with open arms.  You see, all that confidence I had gained in Fort Collins, seemed to evaporate as soon as I left the small comfort zone I had established for myself.   Now that I was here in PA I second guessed everything.  I started getting down on myself because here I was in a house with nothing to do.  I didn’t have many skills to speak of; what was I doing with my life?  I closed off into myself for fear of making a fool of myself to the few people I had met, but Shawna, the sweet woman next door, did not let that hinder her desire to get to know me.  Instantly she made me feel like I was a part of her family.  Seeing as our husbands were often times putting in over a hundred hours a week, we were each other’s family as we turned to each other when in need of comfort or entertainment.

The longer we were in PA the less I saw of my husband.  He would often have to travel out of town for weeks at a time and even when he was in town he worked so many hours he only came home to pass out then wake up and leave again.  I was miserable and felt like I was living all by myself, well and with the invisible eyes that seemed to follow me everywhere.  Overall, the longer I was in PA, the worse my depression got.  Over the last two years I had gained a substantial amount of weight that no matter what I did, never seemed to come off and after eight months of actively trying I still was no closer to conceiving. Being at home alone I felt worthless and useless as I idly passed my time thinking on the things in my life I was unsatisfied about. 

I spent most of my time doing puzzles or crocheting with NPR or classical music on seeing as those were the only stations that seemed to work in Cokeburg.  When I could no longer stand the time by myself I would often walk over to Shawna’s and spent many a day shadowing her and playing with her two little girls.  As the time wore on, the less and less I wanted to go out even though I hated staying in.  It seemed as if my back took a horrible turn for the worse and I spent many a day just lying aimlessly on my heat pad, cursing the state my life was in.  I began writing more frequently and was surprised when I realized many of my thought had darkened and seemed to return me to that very negative space in my head I had been at when I went off the pain killers.  I had similar thoughts of trying to make the pain end and I began to be worried about the state I was in as I kept coming to the same thought: I wish I would have just died in the accident and saved myself all this sorrow and pain.  When Josh was home I tried to initiate outings hoping this would dispel the horrible funk I was in, but every moment we spent together, just intensified the negative I felt when we were apart, which at this point was very often.  Yet, we were doing exactly what we came to do: we were making lots of money and we were saving it up. 

Shawna was a true friend during this time as she wouldn’t allow me to hole up in my house for days at a time.  She invited me over and was always there to listen as I tried to learn who I was and what was going on with me.  She leant me videos and movies to help pass the time and would come over and do puzzles with me, keeping me company when I was the most alone.  I still don’t think this sweet friend knows just how much she saved my life that year by keeping me active and allowing me time where I could focus on someone other than myself.  Sadly I kept myself in the same negative mood without realizing it as I had a continued negative thought process about all my short comings, all the things I was not accomplishing, and all the things I hated about myself, my situation and my life.  During this period I didn’t know how to express that I needed help, I felt this horrid, heavy darkness inside me all the time but I had no idea about how to vocalize what was bothering me as I felt I had no right to feel the way I did.  I didn’t really have a reason for feeling upset and depressed; we had been so blessed to have this job and living situation, we had friends renting our house and paying our mortgage, but that’s how I felt and I let it consume me because I didn’t know how to fight it and honestly didn’t see the point of trying to fight a feeling I was indeed feeling. 

When Josh and I did talk, it never seemed to be about anything substantial, usually it was about how much he now hated his job.  The work out here wasn’t organized and run like the yard in Colorado and he hated the people he worked for and the increasing dangers his job presented.  He hated the hours and he hated the travel, but when I confronted him about quitting, there were always excuses as to why that option wasn’t feasible.  Life ticked away at a horribly slow pace and I struggled to just get through one more day.  It was on one of these eventless, lifeless days that I struggled to find something that I could do that would actually mean something to me.  It was then that I decided I wanted to share my story.  I started off writing about the accident and my recovery, but it soon turned into a love story as I recounted how and why I fell in love with Josh.  I was once again excited about something, but that didn’t last long.  You see, just a few short days after beginning this task I got a call from my husband who had once again been out of town for quite a while.  In a very terse phone conversation he let me know he has been out drinking and then quickly hung up.

I know for most people this is not a big deal at all, but Josh had worked so hard to eliminate all substances from his life that this came as a shock to me.  I instantly went into panic mode as I tried to access where my husband was at to lead him to old habits, mostly because when Josh did drink, it was always more than just a casual drink.  How could I not have seen this?  Was there anything else I did not know?  I felt betrayed because we committed to each other to never partake of harmful or addictive substances and I hated that not only did he do so, but he did so without me.  Without consulting me, or thinking of what that might mean to me.  I was hurt and went over to Shawna’s to try and calm myself of hurt and anger I felt weren’t necessary for the situation.  As I opened up my heart to her I could see the hurt and disappointment in her eyes that I only assumed was her concern for me.  As I finished my little tirade she apologized over and over because she had know for a long time and threatened Josh that he needed to tell me or she would.  It seems as though my husband had been smoking and drinking for months and the whole time I had been unaware and the only reason he called to tell me now, was because this sweet lady and her husband had backed Josh into a corner about being honest with me.

The betrayal and hurt deepened as he had kept these things secretive and hidden from me.  I didn’t think it was fair that despite all my difficulties here in Pennsylvania I had at least been honest about all of them with him and in return I find out about his habits from my friend?  Once again I worried that maybe these habits had escalated past what people were aware.  My mind automatically jumped to the worst possibilities.  Seeing as Josh and I had both spiraled downhill since our move I felt like we needed to get out of this situation.  There was no point in staying on in a job he hated and which required him to travel when I did not trust my husband’s weaknesses and why should I stay in a empty house by myself when it was only feeding into negative emotions.  I decided I was going to drive the five hours to Williamsport where the job site was located and insist Josh quit.  I didn’t care about having another job lined up or the fact that we still had renters in our house; I knew with all of my heart that we needed out of Pennsylvania.  I started getting upset that we had come to Pennsylvania in the first place as life in Colorado had been so perfect.  Why did we have to leave?  How had it come to this?

How had our perfect life gone so awry?  My mind raced a mile a minute as I drove the unfamiliar highways to go and pick up my husband.  What if he refused to quit?  What if I had to go search for him in some bar in a city I didn’t know?  What would I even say to him?  Did he even care how this was affecting me?  How could he lie to me, by hiding all of this?  Did he not respect me enough to tell me?  Did he not trust me enough?  All these questions spiraled around and around in my head until I was pulling up in front of the hotel he was staying in.  He didn’t see me park and he didn’t see me approaching him and his friend as they worked on a cigarette.  I thought he would be shocked and ashamed when he saw me; instead he was surprised, but wrapped me in a hug.  I told him I needed to talk to him in private so we walked outside of earshot of his coworker.  I let Josh know that I was not happy with him, I was not happy with myself and we both hated it here in Pennsylvania.  I let him know that I had come to collect him and asked who he needed to talk to in order to quit so I could take him home.  He didn’t argue as I had anticipated he would; he just told me to follow him.  We went to his room and collected his things and happened to run into his boss in the hallway where he apologized, but let his boss know this was his last day.  We walked to the car and started our long drive back to Cokeburg. 

It was during this drive that I expressed all my concerns and hurt feelings.  I remembered incidents of how I had smelt smoke on him and confronted him about it, but he had always explained it away as being in a van full of people smoking. I addressed the deception, the lying, the hiding, and the overall way I felt that he was pulling away from me.  Why would he lie and push me away when never before have I been judgmental of his choices?  He explained how he had been having a lot of highs and lows and he always felt the lowest when he was away on his out of town trips.  It was during these lows that it was more alluring to return to what he felt was always a part of him: his old habits.  Although this time he reassured me it was only drinking and cigarettes, nothing more.  Although I was hurt I tried to be as calm and level headed about all of this as I could be, but I felt as if my husband was regretting his choice to clean up his life; he was regretting choosing me.  I didn’t understand any of this.  I felt that out of everything in life our relationship was the one thing I could always trust; it was the one thing that had always stood true, so why risk it by lying to me?

I tried to continue our conversation, but Josh was already half asleep as we climbed the stairs to our room.  He was out in a matter of minutes while I lay there next to him feeling rejected because my husband lied to me.  He was pushing me away and the depression that still gripped my heart made me feel weak and worthless and despite his actions, I was taking the blame for his choices.  I made him drink because I wanted him to keep this job that made us so much money, and it was the job that stressed him to that point.  It was my fault he lied to me because obviously he didn’t feel he could open up to me.  I was feeling anger and resentment at him and myself and for the first time in our married life, I chose to sleep in another bed than the one my husband was in.

The next morning we began making plans as to what we should do with our lives now that we had no job.  Josh found someone who had recently joined the company who was willing to take over our lease and adopt the cats from us as we were unable to take them with us as we housed with other people.  Josh’s parents let us know we were welcome to stay with them while we looked for a job; my parents had offered the same thing, but with everything I had just found out about Josh, I didn’t think it was a good idea to move in with my parents while I felt discord with my husband.  We had only lived in Pennsylvania for five month, but it felt like it had been a year of pain.  We started packing things up and within a week we were on the road back west.