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.

Why being a mom is the most difficult job in the world

              Men and women are different.  Although many try and argue we are the same, there are innate differences that set us apart.  I am not going to list the personality and character differences, but it is these differences that set us apart from our male counterpoints.  It is these differences that make us great mothers as we inhibit certain traits that allow us to be the compassionate nurturer’s children need.  Having said this, this is exactly what makes being a mom so difficult. Let me explain: from day one a newborn depends on us for their livelihood as we give them what they need while they grow inside our womb, to meeting every physical need outside of the womb.  This interaction provides the mother with an insanely deep connection to the baby, that no one but a mom could understand.  We help and watch these babies grow as we stay up night after night giving them the comfort, attention and love they need and although it can be stressful, this fulfills our needs as well as we are using these traits and abilities in a glorious way. Then the inevitable happens, these babies begin to grow up and we now teach them the importance and necessity of taking care of themselves, because we know we can’t always be there to take care of our little babies.  We love taking care of our sweet little babies, and yet we are the ones responsible for teaching them how to live and function without us.

We teach our children right from wrong so once again they have the ability to exercise the agency they were promised on this Earth.  We glory in their achievements and once again we are validated in our roles as we know we are helping our children be successful human beings.  However, there is always a day when these precious children use their agency in ways we do not approve and it takes everything in our being to let them grow from their mistakes rather than stepping in and robbing them of the pain and experience they are working towards.  Once again we teach our children how to make choices for themselves and are then forced to watch them mess up, make mistakes and hurt due to the laws and responsibilities we have taught them. 

Close to two decades worth of time, we nourish, teach and strengthen these individuals and we watch them grow into functioning adults.  We have literally dedicated most of our life to the task of being the role model, enforcer, encourager and inspiration for these individuals and rather than keep them close to our breast for the rest of our lives, we are forced to set them free in that uncertain and ever changing dangerous world, praying and hoping we taught them everything they need to know.

As a mom we are continually teaching our children how to leave us when it is their love that makes us a mom.  That is why the mom has one of the most difficult jobs in the world.