The Test

        Ellie blinked, as sudden realization dawned like the sun’s reappearance following a violent storm. Acceptance quickly followed with an onslaught of thoughts.  

         Late night feedings, diaper duty, first steps, skinned knees, birthday parties, school graduation, worrying, a lifetime of joy: simply priceless.

Tweet

It's Time!

 

      Panicked, she looked in my direction and gave me a slight nod.  Filled instantly with excitement and understanding, I quickly gathered my things and we left as the rest of the group continued to work, unfazed by our quick and quiet departure.  

Tweet

Expectation Haiku

excitement and hope

contemplating a new life

joy at baby’s birth

7 Months

I am taking part in “The Write Tribe Festival of Words 1st to 7th September 2013". I hope you enjoy today's fictional story.

      Katie usually enjoyed the brisk walk with her co-worker along the river at lunch time.  Normally it was invigorating and recharged her to face the rest of the day.  Not today.  Today her mind reeled as much as her stomach rolled.  Would Claudia ever shut up?  She had no idea what she was talking about and at this point was too overwhelmed to care.  She smiled feebly and nodded, only half listening to the constant chatter.  She had her own problems and she was not ready to share with the class and honestly Claudia was so engrossed in herself she didn’t seem to notice anyways.   She had to figure out what to do first.  How in the hell was she going to explain this one?  God knows, she should be hungry.  She hadn’t eaten a thing since that bagel at breakfast and by the feeling in her gut that had been a big mistake too.

    As they entered the crowded deli, their most frequent haunt of late, the smell of fresh fish invaded the air.  It was Friday after all and fish was always the special.  Normally, she loved the deli’s fish and chips platter.  The deli did a thriving business and was popular with the office workers that populated the buildings downtown.  Today, a thin sheen of sweat broke out on her face as she took in the aroma.

     “Katie, what do you think?” Claudia asked.   Oh shit, Katie thought.  What the hell had she been talking about?  Confused and embarrassed she racked her brain.  They were already nearing the counter and the girl behind it looked at her expectantly her way ready to take her order.  The world tilted and the need to vomit now overtook her.  She raced for the ladies bathroom at the back of the restaurant slamming the guy waiting in line behind them in the balls with her purse as she fled.  She heard his sharp intake of breath, but the need to vomit was too great.  She couldn’t stop.  He was on his own.

       She flew into the bathroom, dropped to her knees gripping the porcelain bowl and vomited what seemed like a month’s worth of meals into its depths.  Gingerly she flushed the stool, and collapsed beside it.  It was at that precise moment she accepted the physician’s news to be fact.  Despite the fact it had all come to pass because of one night of pure insanity fueled by alcohol, like it or not, in approximately 7 months she would be a mother and her life would be forever changed.

Kids

NaBloPoMo asks:

When did you know that you wanted to have kids?

     I realized that I wanted kids before I met my husband.  I was nearing 30 and my biological clock was clanging in my head.  It was one of the reasons I willingly paid $500.00 to Matchmaker in a last ditch effort to meet a man that I would want to spend the rest of my life with and start a family.  I hadn’t met anyone worthy on my own.  Desperate measures were called for.  So in a last ditch effort I paid my money and waited.

     I was sent a lot of duds before my future husband came along.  When he finally did, I found we had so much in common that we continued to talk on the phone all night long.  By the time we came up for air, it was morning.  We decided to meet, and I soon knew that he was the only one for me.  We married and spent the first couple of years enjoying each other.  All of a sudden my biological clock began ticking in my head again.  I was in my early 30’s and realized there was no better time.  If I was ever to have kids the time had come.  I knew I was ready and there was nothing else I wanted more in life than to have a baby.  It seemed what life was all about and had ever been about.

     I quit taking my birth control pills and we waited…and waited.  It seemed the more I wanted to get pregnant, the more I failed to.  I took it as a personal failure when my first pregnancy ended at 5 months.  I went to the ultrasound expecting to see pictures of my baby only to be told the baby was dead.  As I sobbed uncontrollably, my OB/GYN told me over the phone that the only way to get pregnant was to surgically remove the dead baby and try again.  I agreed to the surgery, and with a heavy heart went to the hospital days later to have my dead, deformed baby taken from my body.  I still wanted children, but that one event put a deep fear in my heart that if I ever became pregnant again the same thing would happen.

      I quit taking my temperature and caring whether I was ovulating.  I got rid of the baby things I had collected in preparation for the baby that died.  I still wanted kids more than anything in the world but believed with every fiber of my soul that I wasn’t able to have babies that would live.  When I became pregnant again, I faced the whole thing with a deep seated fear that never went away.  I refused to get excited about a baby that would most likely die anyway.  I threw up every time the wind blew on me.  I had diarrhea constantly.  I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes and forced to take insulin by the 6th month.  As the last months played out, my blood pressure shot sky high.  Because I had massive areas of scar tissue from previous surgeries, the baby was breech, and I was high risk I was automatically scheduled for a C-section.
  

       I arrived at the hospital the morning of my C-section only wishing the pregnancy was over.  I will never forget the pure joy and elation that overcame me when I first laid eyes on my daughter, or the moment when I first spoke to her and she stopped crying and stared at me the first time.  I realized in those first precious moments of my daughter’s life what the true meaning of life was all about.  I realized that all the days and heartaches that I had lived through before had brought me to that point.  If I had not lost that first baby, I have little doubt that I could have possibly appreciated that moment as much as I did.  

     When I became pregnant for my son, the specter of that first failed pregnancy still hung in the air, but with the successful birth of my daughter I was able to look forward to the birth of my son more.  I took great joy planning for his arrival buying tiny blue clothes, crocheting a baby blanket, and gathering all the things I no longer had from my first.

      For me, marrying my husband started a natural progression towards having the family I always wanted.  I have always been a very old fashioned, traditional girl at heart.  It is their love that sees me through.   Like the old school yard chant goes first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

The Fever

This is a fictional story written for the Story Cabin's writing prompt "Fever" performed by Peggy Lee.

     Her husband was a truck driver, gone more than he was not.  It was little wonder that when he did come home their passion burned so brightly and she had ended up pregnant again. Who would have dreamed such feverous hot passionate $ex could come to this?   Caitlyn accepted the fact that she had to soldier on alone.  It was simply the way things were.    It wasn’t supposed to be this way.   Caitlyn knew that the pregnancy was rough.  It seemed every time the wind blew, she vomited.   Her coloring always was white and pasty tinged with green.  Big as a beached whale, she could barely move, and with each day her pregnancy progressed she became more tired.    She just wanted to make it to the planned c-section, have the baby, and then with the help of pain meds go on.     Finally the c-section was scheduled.   She could only pray this time she would have a healthy baby and everything would be OK.  

         The day came when she had to be at the hospital for her pre-op appointment.  They would check her blood pressure, her weight, her temperature, whatever they did to clear her for surgery and then she would be on her way.  Home she would go to pack her bag, clean her house if she had the energy, and prepare everything for the arrival of her newborn.  She was excited for the birth, but she would have been lying if she wasn’t a little scared.  She had been down this road before although she had never traveled as far.  The only other time she had been pregnant she had lost her baby at 5 months.  It had been devastating.  She vowed to never try to become pregnant again.  It was just too painful. Pregnancy was too hard.  Why would anyone go through that hell voluntarily? She knew deep down, that she would.  She wanted a baby.  She had always wanted children of her own and as the years slipped by, the need became more urgent.  That is probably why when the test was positive all those months ago her feelings were mixed with fear and excitement.

       She woke early in spite of  restless sleep from lower back pain for most of the night.  The baby hadn’t moved much lately, but she wasn’t alarmed after all there couldn’t be  a spare inch left for her precious bundle to move at this point.  She started the day with her face in the toilet, much like every other day.  She was so tired of vomiting.  “It will all be over soon.” she comforted herself.  She cleaned up, and with keys in hand went to the hospital to make her appointment on time.  The day was hot and humid, but strangely she felt cold.  Because of that, she switched off the air conditioning half way there and turned up the radio instead.

        The nurse asked the usual questions.  As each preliminary test was performed, the nurse became more obviously alarmed.   When she was asked to step onto the scale, the world tilted and Caitlyn lost consciousness and fell to the floor.  Smelling salts were fetched and soon she was revived wondering where she was and what had happened.  The nurse had called for assistance, her doctor had been notified, and she realized she was being transported upstairs.  There would be no going back home to pack.   They told her they had notified her husband and he was on his way.  Her mind struggled to process all of this, but she found she was too tired and simply couldn’t.

       When she woke again she was in a room hooked to every machine imaginable and her husband was at her side.  They weren’t alone.  Her doctor was prepped for surgery.  When he noticed she was conscious he moved to her side.  He took her hand and looked into her eyes and explained she was not doing well.  She was running a fever, the baby wasn’t responding as it should, and they were preparing her for surgery.  They had to get the baby out in order to save it and her.  “Not again!!” her mind screamed.  She nodded her understanding and then once again closed her eyes.  She was tired, and she was cold.  She was terrified.  “Please G0d, save my baby!! Please!!” she begged.

       She was rushed to surgery, her husband at her side dressed in surgical scrubs holding her hand the whole way.  “Stay with me!!” she begged him.  Everyone told her that everything would be fine.  They kept talking.  She didn’t have the energy to answer them.  She told them again she was cold, so very cold.  Someone placed a warm blanket over her.  They transferred her to the operating table, holding her as the anesthesiologist did his magic and administered the epidural. A sharp pain shot down her leg, and then she felt no more.    She looked into her husband’s eyes as her baby was pulled from the incision exposing her womb.  The little girl cried lustily.  She took in the beauty of her daughter, smiled, and closed her eyes drifting away into the abyss for the last time.

      The complications had been too great.  The fever had burned too long and too hot.  She died knowing her daughter would go on without her.  The fever had triumphed in the end taking a life for a life until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife. 

Tick Tock-BFF 196

     From the moment we take our first breaths the clock starts ticking.  It isn’t long before we realize when our belly aches it is time to eat, and when the diaper is feeling a little soggy it is time for a change.  Tick Tock goes the clock and we learn to use the potty while grown ups cheer around us.  Hooray! We learned how to aim, and where to head when that urge takes over.  

        Before long, tick tock goes the clock and we are walking, talking, playing, learning, dancing, and learning to love.  We grow up, fall in love, and may even get married.  Tick tock, it don’t stop. It just keeps going.  Time waits for no one.  It may seem to move at a snail’s pace at certain times in life.  For example, when you are pregnant, time moves slow.  Days feel like months, and months feel like years made even more unbearable by the fact you grow as big and round as the blueberry girl in Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.  Tick tock goes the clock and nothing lasts forever, and soon you are blessed with a beautiful baby. 

         The next thing you know the process starts with them.  You are older and a little wiser, and if you didn’t feel wise when your toddler was hurling a $hit filled pull up at your head declaring proudly that “I pooped Mommy!!” you surely did when you dodged the bomb and their aim missed their mark.  You survived the round the clock feedings.  You learn by trial and error how to be parents.

        That clock keeps ticking and babies grow into toddlers and then into kids off to school to learn all that life has to offer.    You stop to catch a breath and wonder where the time went.  Wasn’t it just yesterday they were babies?  No matter how much you wish to freeze them at that size forever, time stops for no one.  They grow up, and you grow older.

         Tick tock goes the clock and you realize how precious time is when someone you love  dies.  Your heart breaks, and you are sure time will stop.  Surely it will not keep on going without them in your life, but it does.  One minute they are here, and the next in a blink of an eye they are gone never to return, sometimes without any warning or a final goodbye.  It has always boggled my mind how that can be so, how someone who has always been there can no longer be.

         Time waits for no one.  Time marches on.  It continues with us or without us.  I spend all of my time counting the days as they drag by until my husband comes home again.  While he is here we rush around, enjoy each other, and make each precious moment count.  All too soon, he is back on the road once again and I am here missing him.  Tick tock goes the clock.  Whether the time flies or drags, it constantly passes and evolves.  I have learned to make the most of each day, live life as if each day was my last simply because the clock is always ticking and today could very well be my last until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Facing Fears

     When I was about 31, I got into my head that what I wanted was to have a baby.  My husband and I had been married 3 years and my biological clock was banging in my head.  I had a lot of problems before that with endometriosis  that necessitated countless laser surgeries equaling loads of scar tissue, and a great deal of pain.  Because of that, getting pregnant wasn’t as easy as I had imagined it would be.

      I took my temperature, took drugs to make me ovulate, and drugs to make me stop.  I was all out of whack.    Finally after months of trying, I hit the jackpot.  I was pregnant, and my husband and I were over the moon with happiness.    From the moment I became pregnant,  I was constantly sick with nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea.  If a stiff breeze blew on me I would toss my cookies.  I was completely miserable but at least I had a good reason.  I was going to have a baby, and I couldn’t wait.

      One day I heard the heart beat for the first time.  Then came the unmistakable butterfly movements and the growing belly.  When I was just past 5 months, I began to spot.  My doctor immediately put me on bed rest and scheduled an ultrasound.  I was so excited because I was going to see my baby for the first time, and if I was lucky discover its gender.  I eagerly drank what seemed like gallons of water to prepare for the ultrasound and felt like I would explode if they so much as touched me.

  

      I remember laying down on the table, feeling the gel they spread on my belly, and peering at the monitor searching for my baby.  The technician was silent as she focused on the monitor.  After a while, she patted my hand and told me she would be right back.  I laid there oblivious.  She came back carrying a telephone and told me my doctor would like to speak to me.  Seemed a little odd at the time, but I had never had a baby before, or an ultrasound…so I didn’t realize this was a very bad sign.  He cut right to the chase and broke my heart with the unsuspected news that my baby was dead.  The sobs that spilled from me shook my whole body as the technician tried her best to comfort me.  The doctor told me that the only way I would ever have the chance at a healthy baby was to remove this one as soon as possible.  I agreed to the surgery to be scheduled in a couple days and went home devastated.

          With the loss of my baby, I lost the desire to become pregnant. I quit taking the pills to make me ovulate and taking my temperature.  I went on with life trying to forget, knowing I never would.   Six months later, I was pregnant again.  This time, I refused to get my hopes up and  to believe that history wouldn‘t repeat itself.  Even after I became noticeably pregnant and felt the baby kick often, I still couldn’t believe that this baby would survive through my gestational diabetes and high blood pressure.  I was terrified it would die like the first.

        Because of all the scar tissue, I was scheduled for a cesarean section.  Right up to seconds before I was wheeled to the operating room, all I wanted was to have whatever it was that was making me desperately sick out of me.  I wanted the pregnancy over with.  I was tired.  I was terrified, and certain that even though this baby appeared normal and fine that at the last minute it would die.  I am 5 foot tall and at that moment, I resembled the blueberry girl in “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”.  You could have placed me on my side and rolled me around.  I desperately wanted to be sent to the juicing room and be squeezed till I was thin again. HA!  You would have thought all that peeing would have done the trick.

       I had a daughter!  She was beautiful, and better yet…she was alive and healthy.  The nurse brought my newborn over to me.  She was screaming at the top of her lungs until I spoke to her.  She immediately stopped and looked at me, and I dissolved into tears of amazement and happiness.   I remember thinking at that moment that I was witnessing what life is truly all about.


       With my daughter’s birth, I conquered and overcame my fears of being pregnant and coming out with a broken heart.    Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

It’s My Life, One Day at A Time!- BFF 130

     It’s my life, one day at a time with attitude. Isn’t it amazing that when you are a kid, even a teenager…your head is full to overflowing with dreams and big plans which include being rich and famous, the happily ever after, and the whole enchilada. I was no different than any other teenager. I had the world by the a$$ and had it all figured out, or so I thought.



    I graduated near the top of my class. The next four years were planned out. I was off to college, off to conquer the world, off to make a life for myself. It was going to be a great life. Then I went off to school and it did not turn out quite like I planned. I realized after a few short months that my heart just was not in it. I struggled. It turned out, it really was not where I belonged. I was homesick from the onset and drove 8 hours home every weekend.  Since I was in Nashville, Tennessee my mom could not resist having an excuse to spend time at the Opryland Hotel , visit, shop, and hang out whenever she could sneak away from home.  

      When my dad called up one day and told her she had to go home and deal with the leaves, I grabbed my a$$ and all my possessions, quit school, and went home too right behind her. Just like that. I remember being afraid to confront my Dad about quitting school.  It was to late to get any refund.   He came into my room and sat down on my bed, and was silent for a few minutes. I was bracing myself for a real telling off, when he shocked me by saying…”Well, since you are home and not doing anything else, how would you like to go to Disney World ??” Excuse me?? Sphincter says what??? Can I get a “Hell Yeah!!!” ?? Needless to say, my folks were the epitome of cool and deliciously unpredictable.

     I gave up all sense of planning the day my mother’s kidneys failed, and when she was diagnosed with multiple myeloma we began living each day as if it were her last. The day came when it was her last and all to soon, she was gone. In my overwhelming grief, my life whirled out of control, lost meaning, and direction. I quit planning and dreaming. It was an effort to get from one day to the next. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I went to work, and came home. I mourned, and did it well. Eventually my body rebelled. I developed a bleeding ulcer, lost oodles of weight, and after I collapsed at work, my family doctor sat me down and told me I had to get a grip. My mom wouldn’t want me like this. Slowly I returned to the land of the living determined that I would never hurt that badly ever again.  Seems like I had no control over that either.

     When I first became pregnant, I was caught up with the excitement of a new baby. I allowed myself to plan again with excitement. I had heard the baby’s heartbeat. I had felt the baby move. Then one day I went to have an ultrasound. The technician left me and came back with a phone saying my doctor wanted to speak to me. Over the phone he broke the news that my unborn baby was dead. My world shattered. My life fell back into the one day at a time pattern. I vowed no more plans, no more dreams, no more trying to get pregnant. I was done. I was prepared to take each day as it came and to quit hoping for tomorrow.  Much like Scarlett O'Hara, I swore not to think about that now...I would think about that tomorrow...or never if that was the way things went.

     As fate would have it, I was eventually blessed with a husband that I adore and two children who have become the light of my life. I have had homes, and lost them. I have lost even more family members to deaths unyielding grip.   Today I accept it as part of life. I live my life searching for everyday blessings,wisdom,  and invariably find humor and good in most everything. I no longer look past tomorrow, it is just enough to get through today. It’s my life, it’s now or never, one day at a time.  Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.