Since my last post we finally got the ever coveted LH Surge – which indicated ovulation! So now that my eggs are doing what they are supposed to do, our quest for Baby Bailey took us for our first phase of treatment.
The first phase was to do an ultrasound to make sure I had egg follicles. SCORE! We have a total of FOURTEEN! This sounds like an incredible number, but in reality, is really just a little above average. Being the Type-A that I am… Average didn't sound good… but I guess in this case it is. Then they went for the blood. NINE (not exaggerating) vials and FIVE needles later they had what they needed. Tests all came back normal and I started the fertility drugs.
So my drug of choice (coming from someone who literally does not take Tylenol and hasn't for over a decade) is Clomid. If you've ever known anyone on fertility medication, you may have heard about some of the less desirable side affects, the main one being homicidal tendencies. Needless to say, it's been an interesting couple of days. While I haven't yet wanted to literally kill someone – well, there was that one incident in traffic – I have definitely had to TRY to keep my emotions under control. I felt myself tearing up when my daughter told me she wanted to eat cereal for dinner and the other day at work I nearly cried when I opened my lunch box and saw the contents. The lunch that I myself had packed all of it very good and balanced, I even included a fat free pudding cup but stopped shy of writing myself a note. I don't know why this alone turned on the water works but it did. Just like the newest Publix commercial, a State Farm commercial, (www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_dkyByzD-Y) the trailer for Marley & Me and a Jennifer Anniston plug for St. Jude. All brought me to tears and the last two in a packed movie theater before the movie had even started! Never mind the crying that took place DURING the movie… a comedy that I am fairly confident didn’t have anyone else crying in their seat!
This process is teaching me a lot about myself, the Lovely Lisa and the Amazing Allyssa. I am learning that yes, indeed I am a control freak. So… being completely out of control of my emotions has taken some adjusting to. Lisa is truly a jewel. She looks at me with a look of utter confusion and disbelief (one would if nearly every holiday commercial on TV brought you to tears) but still smiles as if to have me believe she doesn’t think I’m crazy and Allyssa… Allyssa has a great sense of humor. One day, should she survive this process, it will serve her well.
And so it goes….
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Ovulation, Smovulation!
It's Monday again... and we've been on our journey for Baby Bailey for what seems like years. I've learned allot over the past few months, about myself, about the lovely Lisa, about other people and about the human body. More specifically MY human body. The body that isn't really cooperating with this whole process to pregnancy.
Yes... it's true. The same body, albeit older and wiser (and wider) that got me pregnant on birth control pills (thank you Ortho Novum) at the ripe old age of seventeen has decided that ovulation and a regular menstrual cycle really needn't be part of the plan. So while I pee on a stick every morning and hope for the smiley face that tells me that I have the achieved the ever so coveted LH Surge (at a cost of $40.00 per week) I relive the day I realized I was pregnant with my daughter Allyssa. I had been dating my boyfriend for a little over a year. Had been taking the pill for about three months, had sex three times and when I didn't get my period on day two of the little pink pills I just knew it. I got in the shower that morning and cried. I even said a prayer out loud... it went something like this, "Dear God, PLEASE, PLEASE don't let me be pregnant. I will NEVER have sex again... just PLEASE don't let me be pregnant." That was on a Thursday.
I don't think I could have been any less prepared to be someones mother back then. I was a senior in high school, I was counting down the days until I went away for college... Away from my parents, away from the small town I grew up in, away from what I perceived as my boring reality. Soon I realized the only place I'd be going was to Lamaze Class. I never weighed my options. The thought of an abortion or adoption never occurred to me and that September I gave birth to my almost nine pound baby girl and have never thought twice about it.
Here I am sixteen years later and if it were humanly possible for me to get pregnant by accident, I'd pray for it every day! While I think you can always be MORE prepared to have children, we've done a pretty good job of preparing ourselves for our future and whatever it may bring. My friend Heidi said I'd get pregnant right away if I'd just quit my job, blow through my savings and start sleeping with losers. I think for now I'll just continue to wait.
SO COME ON EGGS!! Do your thing!!!
Yes... it's true. The same body, albeit older and wiser (and wider) that got me pregnant on birth control pills (thank you Ortho Novum) at the ripe old age of seventeen has decided that ovulation and a regular menstrual cycle really needn't be part of the plan. So while I pee on a stick every morning and hope for the smiley face that tells me that I have the achieved the ever so coveted LH Surge (at a cost of $40.00 per week) I relive the day I realized I was pregnant with my daughter Allyssa. I had been dating my boyfriend for a little over a year. Had been taking the pill for about three months, had sex three times and when I didn't get my period on day two of the little pink pills I just knew it. I got in the shower that morning and cried. I even said a prayer out loud... it went something like this, "Dear God, PLEASE, PLEASE don't let me be pregnant. I will NEVER have sex again... just PLEASE don't let me be pregnant." That was on a Thursday.
I don't think I could have been any less prepared to be someones mother back then. I was a senior in high school, I was counting down the days until I went away for college... Away from my parents, away from the small town I grew up in, away from what I perceived as my boring reality. Soon I realized the only place I'd be going was to Lamaze Class. I never weighed my options. The thought of an abortion or adoption never occurred to me and that September I gave birth to my almost nine pound baby girl and have never thought twice about it.
Here I am sixteen years later and if it were humanly possible for me to get pregnant by accident, I'd pray for it every day! While I think you can always be MORE prepared to have children, we've done a pretty good job of preparing ourselves for our future and whatever it may bring. My friend Heidi said I'd get pregnant right away if I'd just quit my job, blow through my savings and start sleeping with losers. I think for now I'll just continue to wait.
SO COME ON EGGS!! Do your thing!!!
Monday, November 10, 2008
What I Do Know...
A week ago Saturday, Kim – who is the mother of my daughter's best friend called. Her sister who was diagnosed with Leukemia over the summer was succumbing to the illness and had been sent home to pass. Through her tears she asked me to help with her daughter's birthday party while she was out paying for her baby sister's burial plot. My heart broke for their family.
A day later on Sunday after a really great day; church, lunch with friends, seeing our friend and now pastor being ordained and installed we went home to wind down. After we had been home for about an hour, my daughter called to me from upstairs. Her voice was quivering and we immediately knew something wasn't right. When we got to her and asked what was wrong, through tears and terror she somehow managed to tell us that her friend Ken had killed himself earlier that day. Through shock, horror and a deep sadness I clung to my daughter and mourned for his family. My heart broke for my daughter. My heart broke for Ken and my heart broke for his family.
As I spent the next several hours consoling my child and myself I wondered how this could have happened. How could a young man, so full of life and so full of promise have found himself in such a place of despair? How could the son of a minister, a student on an ROTC Scholarship at Auburn who had everything on earth to live for, someone’s son, someone’s brother, someone’s friend and someone who by all accounts made everyone else smile…. How could that someone take his own life? How would his poor mother ever manage to wake up and go on knowing that her oldest son couldn't? How would his father hold on to his faith while he was missing his son? How would his brother (another good friend of my daughter) get up every day and carry on without his big brother, his hero, his friend? And how was I to console my own child who was suffering her second tragic loss in her very young life when I could hardly console myself?
Wednesday my daughter's best friends Aunt passed away and my daughter spent five hours that night at a funeral home because her best friend wanted her there. In two days we had two visitations and two funerals on our calendar. Saturday we attended Ken’s funeral. This was the second funeral for a child we’ve attended in just over two years. One child's funeral in a lifetime is almost inconceivable… I am not quite sure how I managed two.
I was amazed that Ken's father preached his own son's funeral. He didn't seem bitter, angry or confused but was clearly holding on desperately to his faith while mourning the loss of his oldest son. His mother hugged me tightly but still managed to put a smile on her tear stained face when she told me it was nice to see me. I sat through the service wondering how those poor people would go back to a house where their son had taken his own life. How they would set a table, minus a place setting. How the upcoming holiday season would be like none other while there was one less person to shop for and one less smiling face opening gifts on Christmas morning. While I cried through a two and a half hour service I recognized that they have a strength I will never possess.
Anyone who knows me knows that I firmly believe there is a lesson in everything. I don't know what my lesson is but I do know that a week later I still physically ache for this family, for my daughter and her friends. I do know that while a young mother of two lay dying at home wishing for just one more day with her loved ones, a young man was on the other side of town wishing that he were dead for reasons that anyone over the age of 30 would have known were just not that serious. I do know that my daughter has experienced loss like I never had to at her age and I wish more than anything in the world I could kept her from that.
A day later on Sunday after a really great day; church, lunch with friends, seeing our friend and now pastor being ordained and installed we went home to wind down. After we had been home for about an hour, my daughter called to me from upstairs. Her voice was quivering and we immediately knew something wasn't right. When we got to her and asked what was wrong, through tears and terror she somehow managed to tell us that her friend Ken had killed himself earlier that day. Through shock, horror and a deep sadness I clung to my daughter and mourned for his family. My heart broke for my daughter. My heart broke for Ken and my heart broke for his family.
As I spent the next several hours consoling my child and myself I wondered how this could have happened. How could a young man, so full of life and so full of promise have found himself in such a place of despair? How could the son of a minister, a student on an ROTC Scholarship at Auburn who had everything on earth to live for, someone’s son, someone’s brother, someone’s friend and someone who by all accounts made everyone else smile…. How could that someone take his own life? How would his poor mother ever manage to wake up and go on knowing that her oldest son couldn't? How would his father hold on to his faith while he was missing his son? How would his brother (another good friend of my daughter) get up every day and carry on without his big brother, his hero, his friend? And how was I to console my own child who was suffering her second tragic loss in her very young life when I could hardly console myself?
Wednesday my daughter's best friends Aunt passed away and my daughter spent five hours that night at a funeral home because her best friend wanted her there. In two days we had two visitations and two funerals on our calendar. Saturday we attended Ken’s funeral. This was the second funeral for a child we’ve attended in just over two years. One child's funeral in a lifetime is almost inconceivable… I am not quite sure how I managed two.
I was amazed that Ken's father preached his own son's funeral. He didn't seem bitter, angry or confused but was clearly holding on desperately to his faith while mourning the loss of his oldest son. His mother hugged me tightly but still managed to put a smile on her tear stained face when she told me it was nice to see me. I sat through the service wondering how those poor people would go back to a house where their son had taken his own life. How they would set a table, minus a place setting. How the upcoming holiday season would be like none other while there was one less person to shop for and one less smiling face opening gifts on Christmas morning. While I cried through a two and a half hour service I recognized that they have a strength I will never possess.
Anyone who knows me knows that I firmly believe there is a lesson in everything. I don't know what my lesson is but I do know that a week later I still physically ache for this family, for my daughter and her friends. I do know that while a young mother of two lay dying at home wishing for just one more day with her loved ones, a young man was on the other side of town wishing that he were dead for reasons that anyone over the age of 30 would have known were just not that serious. I do know that my daughter has experienced loss like I never had to at her age and I wish more than anything in the world I could kept her from that.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
And the lucky number is.....
Blonde hair, blue or green eyes, 6'0 or taller, athletic, funny, smart.... You wouldn't think these traits would be that difficult to come by! Think again!! Six sperm banks and approximately one hundred and eighty-three donor profiles later, we've finally found our guy. The specimen that will someday contribute to our future child's DNA is on its way to Atlanta via FedEx and dry ice as we speak.
Admittedly, my attitude about the whole thing had become less than positive. I had been beaten down by the dozens of profiles that were not only NOT perfect -- but in my opinion wouldn't even qualify as mediocre. There was the very self-assured guy who said while he never wanted to have children of his own he was donating so that as many children as possible could be blessed with his athletic ability, good looks, well above average intelligence and amazing physique. There was a political activist who used his essay portion of the profile to explain how corrupt our society is and how he would probably never bring a child into the world, but since the money was decent, he'd donate so others could if they wanted. Then there were the donors that while I thought they would be a good candidate - the yoga loving, philosophy major… the lovely Lisa didn't feel the same way. I think her exact words were - He's a total and complete tool. Then there were her choices - the manly man that loved sports and the outdoors - but when it came to the clinic staff impressions he was polite, but all business and seemed nervous. (What is there to be nervous about??) Oh, and there was a slight case of alcoholism in his family.
Monday night, at the end of my rope -- I suggested to Lisa that we re-enter our search criteria at the bank we had decided to use and look again. Maybe we had missed a good one? Surely there had to be ONE that we could both agree on??! So we did. We checked all the appropriate boxes and hit the search button. We opened up the second profile on the list. We read through the short profile and opened up the longer version -- we both (almost simultaneously) agreed that he was the one. The sky opened up and we could hear the hallelujah chorus! We had found the perfect man! He was everything we both wanted in a donor and maybe even a little bit more. He was athletic and sensitive, gave good answers on his essay and had a good speaking voice. The clinic staff impressions of him were also really good! We had found a winner!!!! Lucky number 184!! (Or as the clinic calls him 1923.)
Tuesday I called to make the arrangements with the bank. I placed the order, gave them my credit card and uploaded a baby picture of our donor. He was a really adorable toddler and amazingly enough he resembles Lisa quite a bit. When we looked at the picture together, we both felt it was the perfect decision. The perfect decision on the donor, and the perfect decision to try to have a family.
I've read the profile a dozen times. I've printed the picture and have looked at it over and over. After months of discussion, searching, testing and at times even procrastinating - regardless of the outcome, our lives are about to change.
Admittedly, my attitude about the whole thing had become less than positive. I had been beaten down by the dozens of profiles that were not only NOT perfect -- but in my opinion wouldn't even qualify as mediocre. There was the very self-assured guy who said while he never wanted to have children of his own he was donating so that as many children as possible could be blessed with his athletic ability, good looks, well above average intelligence and amazing physique. There was a political activist who used his essay portion of the profile to explain how corrupt our society is and how he would probably never bring a child into the world, but since the money was decent, he'd donate so others could if they wanted. Then there were the donors that while I thought they would be a good candidate - the yoga loving, philosophy major… the lovely Lisa didn't feel the same way. I think her exact words were - He's a total and complete tool. Then there were her choices - the manly man that loved sports and the outdoors - but when it came to the clinic staff impressions he was polite, but all business and seemed nervous. (What is there to be nervous about??) Oh, and there was a slight case of alcoholism in his family.
Monday night, at the end of my rope -- I suggested to Lisa that we re-enter our search criteria at the bank we had decided to use and look again. Maybe we had missed a good one? Surely there had to be ONE that we could both agree on??! So we did. We checked all the appropriate boxes and hit the search button. We opened up the second profile on the list. We read through the short profile and opened up the longer version -- we both (almost simultaneously) agreed that he was the one. The sky opened up and we could hear the hallelujah chorus! We had found the perfect man! He was everything we both wanted in a donor and maybe even a little bit more. He was athletic and sensitive, gave good answers on his essay and had a good speaking voice. The clinic staff impressions of him were also really good! We had found a winner!!!! Lucky number 184!! (Or as the clinic calls him 1923.)
Tuesday I called to make the arrangements with the bank. I placed the order, gave them my credit card and uploaded a baby picture of our donor. He was a really adorable toddler and amazingly enough he resembles Lisa quite a bit. When we looked at the picture together, we both felt it was the perfect decision. The perfect decision on the donor, and the perfect decision to try to have a family.
I've read the profile a dozen times. I've printed the picture and have looked at it over and over. After months of discussion, searching, testing and at times even procrastinating - regardless of the outcome, our lives are about to change.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
The Search Is On!!!
When you decide to have a baby our way, things can be a little bit tricky. I have always thought that the choice to have children and who to have them with was an extremely important one. In my current predicament, I am considering our donor to be a very significant part of the equation. I always assumed that the rest of the world, if in the same situation would feel this way too... until we started telling people about our plans for pregnancy. That's when it started. Friends, acquaintances and even a stranger or two began volunteering to donate to our cause. Some offered in jest, but others were really willing to give it up all in the name of goodwill or in some cases friendship.
At first I thought it was kind of funny. A very close friend (gay) mentioned almost in passing that he would be glad to assist if necessary. Surprised and somewhat uncomfortable, I mumbled something about the fact that we hadn't really decided what direction we were going to go with that. The next day I received a follow up email to our conversation. It read something like this, "Hi, I wanted to check in with you about our conversation at the party yesterday. Just let me know when you are ready and we'll make a plan." Hmmmm.... Just let me know when you are ready...and we'll make a plan. We're not planning to go shopping!!! We're planning to procreate?!!? I could almost envision the conversation in my head. "Hey ________, it's Angel. I appear to be ovulating. Can you come over here for a few... and don't forget your cup! Give my best to the husband and kids!"
I ran into a close friend at a dinner party, (female, straight and married) told me she would "gladly" give us some of her own husbands stuff and reminded me that her children are extremely cute. I laughed and then she repeated the offer and said, "No really, he'll totally do it!" Again, I thought about conversation when it came time. "Hey ______, send your husband's sperm over, it's time to make a baby!" Separately, what if her kids WEREN'T cute??
Then you have the friends who want to volunteer other people's DNA to your cause. Like my friend who doesn't live anywhere near here, has never met Lisa or her brother and very generously offered to use his. "Call Lisa's brother! I am sure he's be glad to do it!" Ummmm.... NO. "Uncle Dad??" I don't think so. Not to mention... you should see the size of this guy's cranium! The plan for a natural childbirth would need to be reconsidered.
Long story short, for personal, ethical and mostly legal reasons, we are using donor sperm. So we've been "shopping" online for weeks looking for a suitable person to help create our child. Our search for a donor has gone on for what seems like months now and I will eliminate otherwise very qualified candidates at the very mention of anything that doesn't come across to me as masculine, fun, or otherwise desirable in a male partner. For instance, the guy whose favorite animal is a cat. Your FAVORITE animal?? Is a cat?? Or how about the guy who when asked what he enjoys doing in his free time he responded, "I like role playing games and LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Comic Book Conventions." The egomaniac whose only line to potential parents to his offspring, "I've done my part, now go do yours!" Or the donor whose list of mental health issues in his immediate family would have made for a good movie. Believe me when I tell you, this list could go on.
I've sorted through DOZENS and DOZENS of viable donors and haven't found "The One" yet... but we're still looking!
At first I thought it was kind of funny. A very close friend (gay) mentioned almost in passing that he would be glad to assist if necessary. Surprised and somewhat uncomfortable, I mumbled something about the fact that we hadn't really decided what direction we were going to go with that. The next day I received a follow up email to our conversation. It read something like this, "Hi, I wanted to check in with you about our conversation at the party yesterday. Just let me know when you are ready and we'll make a plan." Hmmmm.... Just let me know when you are ready...and we'll make a plan. We're not planning to go shopping!!! We're planning to procreate?!!? I could almost envision the conversation in my head. "Hey ________, it's Angel. I appear to be ovulating. Can you come over here for a few... and don't forget your cup! Give my best to the husband and kids!"
I ran into a close friend at a dinner party, (female, straight and married) told me she would "gladly" give us some of her own husbands stuff and reminded me that her children are extremely cute. I laughed and then she repeated the offer and said, "No really, he'll totally do it!" Again, I thought about conversation when it came time. "Hey ______, send your husband's sperm over, it's time to make a baby!" Separately, what if her kids WEREN'T cute??
Then you have the friends who want to volunteer other people's DNA to your cause. Like my friend who doesn't live anywhere near here, has never met Lisa or her brother and very generously offered to use his. "Call Lisa's brother! I am sure he's be glad to do it!" Ummmm.... NO. "Uncle Dad??" I don't think so. Not to mention... you should see the size of this guy's cranium! The plan for a natural childbirth would need to be reconsidered.
Long story short, for personal, ethical and mostly legal reasons, we are using donor sperm. So we've been "shopping" online for weeks looking for a suitable person to help create our child. Our search for a donor has gone on for what seems like months now and I will eliminate otherwise very qualified candidates at the very mention of anything that doesn't come across to me as masculine, fun, or otherwise desirable in a male partner. For instance, the guy whose favorite animal is a cat. Your FAVORITE animal?? Is a cat?? Or how about the guy who when asked what he enjoys doing in his free time he responded, "I like role playing games and LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Comic Book Conventions." The egomaniac whose only line to potential parents to his offspring, "I've done my part, now go do yours!" Or the donor whose list of mental health issues in his immediate family would have made for a good movie. Believe me when I tell you, this list could go on.
I've sorted through DOZENS and DOZENS of viable donors and haven't found "The One" yet... but we're still looking!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
hCG, LH Surge, Oocytes … Oh My!
Ahhh… the world of fertility treatments! Yes, you read right… FERTILITY TREATMENT. The treatment of one's fertility.
Now you ask, "Why would two women, moderately successful in their respective fields, virtually debt free (except one mortgage) who take a minimum of two vacations per year, with a SIXTEEN year old daughter with only TWO years of high school left need to be talking about Fertility Treatment???" Well, the short and very simple answer is, we're clearly crazy.
I have known since Lisa and I were just friends that someday she would want children. She just hadn't found anyone she wanted children with. Early on in our relationship, I suppose she realized what a great catch I was (HA) and we talked about the potential to have children together. Lisa is a great person. She's great with kids and is amazing with the one we already have but having a teenager, admittedly, I wasn't entirely sure this was a path we should take. However, Allyssa was not necessarily an only child by design – but more so out of necessity so had my own situation been different, it's very likely she wouldn't have been an only child. So after MUCH conversation, deliberation and the outright pleading from Allyssa (who until now has been perfectly happy being an only child) we have decided that we are going to add to our family.
That is where all of this fertility stuff comes in. We don't really have a fertility problem. Or at least we don't think we do. However we are lacking a small (but important) piece to the pregnancy puzzle and in the state of Georgia you can't just do that sort of thing on your own. So we decided to take some referrals for a reputable clinic and went to a consult to find out everything we needed to do. We made our appointment… and canceled our appointment…. And made another appointment… and almost cancelled that appointment but didn't.
The looming appointment had me on a street corner looking for Xanax. The day finally came and we actually went. We went in, surrounded by seemingly straight couples (you never really know do you??) and waited what seemed like forever. When we were finally called back I was somewhat surprised to see our doctor looked as though she had stepped right out of a Vogue Magazine – although she did have on a white coat. Our "dedicated" nurse (you get one nurse who is assigned to you so you always see the same nurse – which for the money, she should move in next door) looked much like someones grandmother and acted like one too. I half expected her to pull out some homemade cookies, but sadly she didn't. The doctor explained everything in a way that appeared on paper and in the drawing to be very simple, but really isn't. She was very nice, forthright and accommodating. I wanted to make sure that our being a gay couple wouldn't be a problem, so near the end of the consult I said, "We are a couple, (I think she may have laughed a little at the obviousness of my statement) and we want to make sure our doctor and the staff are comfortable with the situation." She assured us that this was nothing they hadn't seen before and that it was no different than any other couple trying to conceive. She gave us a list everything we needed to do between that visit and when we actually want to start trying to get pregnant. (Remember, I got pregnant the first time at seventeen ON birth control pills, trying NOT to get pregnant. Who knew there was SO much to do when you are trying TO get pregnant?!) They took what seemed like gallons of my blood and ran some other ridiculously uncomfortable tests – and it seems everything is still working the way it's supposed to.
So… now the quest has begun. We have all of the details… now we just need to find some suitable "samples" and we'll begin. Keep your fingers crossed.
Now you ask, "Why would two women, moderately successful in their respective fields, virtually debt free (except one mortgage) who take a minimum of two vacations per year, with a SIXTEEN year old daughter with only TWO years of high school left need to be talking about Fertility Treatment???" Well, the short and very simple answer is, we're clearly crazy.
I have known since Lisa and I were just friends that someday she would want children. She just hadn't found anyone she wanted children with. Early on in our relationship, I suppose she realized what a great catch I was (HA) and we talked about the potential to have children together. Lisa is a great person. She's great with kids and is amazing with the one we already have but having a teenager, admittedly, I wasn't entirely sure this was a path we should take. However, Allyssa was not necessarily an only child by design – but more so out of necessity so had my own situation been different, it's very likely she wouldn't have been an only child. So after MUCH conversation, deliberation and the outright pleading from Allyssa (who until now has been perfectly happy being an only child) we have decided that we are going to add to our family.
That is where all of this fertility stuff comes in. We don't really have a fertility problem. Or at least we don't think we do. However we are lacking a small (but important) piece to the pregnancy puzzle and in the state of Georgia you can't just do that sort of thing on your own. So we decided to take some referrals for a reputable clinic and went to a consult to find out everything we needed to do. We made our appointment… and canceled our appointment…. And made another appointment… and almost cancelled that appointment but didn't.
The looming appointment had me on a street corner looking for Xanax. The day finally came and we actually went. We went in, surrounded by seemingly straight couples (you never really know do you??) and waited what seemed like forever. When we were finally called back I was somewhat surprised to see our doctor looked as though she had stepped right out of a Vogue Magazine – although she did have on a white coat. Our "dedicated" nurse (you get one nurse who is assigned to you so you always see the same nurse – which for the money, she should move in next door) looked much like someones grandmother and acted like one too. I half expected her to pull out some homemade cookies, but sadly she didn't. The doctor explained everything in a way that appeared on paper and in the drawing to be very simple, but really isn't. She was very nice, forthright and accommodating. I wanted to make sure that our being a gay couple wouldn't be a problem, so near the end of the consult I said, "We are a couple, (I think she may have laughed a little at the obviousness of my statement) and we want to make sure our doctor and the staff are comfortable with the situation." She assured us that this was nothing they hadn't seen before and that it was no different than any other couple trying to conceive. She gave us a list everything we needed to do between that visit and when we actually want to start trying to get pregnant. (Remember, I got pregnant the first time at seventeen ON birth control pills, trying NOT to get pregnant. Who knew there was SO much to do when you are trying TO get pregnant?!) They took what seemed like gallons of my blood and ran some other ridiculously uncomfortable tests – and it seems everything is still working the way it's supposed to.
So… now the quest has begun. We have all of the details… now we just need to find some suitable "samples" and we'll begin. Keep your fingers crossed.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
If I'd Known Then
I bought a book this week called "If I'd Known Then: Women in their 20's and 30's Write Letters to Their Younger Selves." The author asked the women (All noteworthy on some level) to write letters to the girls they once were, letters filled with the advice and wisdom they wished they'd possessed when they were younger. Several of the letters were based on specific situations or timeframes that were mentioned in a short story that precedes each letter.
The book was relatively small but big on emotion as I flipped through the pages and cried on more than one occasion when I recognized something I would have put in my own letter to my younger self.
The more I read, the more I thought that every woman SHOULD write a letter to her younger self. Maybe no one ever reads it. Maybe it serves as an open letter to your own daughter or another young girl who might never admit that something in the letter made a difference to her. Maybe its only purpose is a sort of therapy to recognize what you didn't know then and how you might change things knowing what you know now. Maybe, like my letter – it's a way of your grown up self to just let go and know that the person you were then made you the person you are today.
So here is my letter… and if you feel so inclined… write your own. It might make a difference to someone someday.
Dear Angel,
You're getting ready to celebrate your 16th birthday! I know sometimes you're surprised you made it! I know it seemed like you would never arrive here – but you did! Believe me when I tell you that as you get older, time goes by much more quickly, so slow down… You have all the time in the world to grow up!
Don't worry about all the drama that surrounds high school girls. The circle of friends that you have now is large… but the circle that truly matters will be small. The friends that are important will remain part of your life for a very long time. So don't get caught up in all that seems so serious right now. I promise, it's really not.
I won't lie to you, the next few years are not going to be at all what you are expecting. I know you have some ideas of how things are going to be but life is happening. Choices are about to be made and sometimes things just don't happen the way we think they should. It will be very difficult and at times will even be scary but you will know in the depth of your spirit that this is not permanent. So hold on tight… it will be a very bumpy ride but trust that one day it will all be just fine and the things you are about to go through will seem like a bad Lifetime Movie.
Hold on to who you are and don't ever sacrifice that for anyone. Not friends, not family, not a husband or a lover. Stand up for yourself and don't make decisions based on fear. Wake up every day and know that no matter what you are facing you are taking it head on and as long as you do that, you will make it. Challenge yourself to be better and to want better because you KNOW better. Even when you think it can't get any worse, try to smile to yourself once in awhile. I can assure you, it's all going to be just fine!
Wishing I could walk you through it,
Angel
PS..
Two more things, I am sorry to tell you that while Troy really is a good guy, he isn't going to be the one who makes you realize what you've been missing. The great news is… by standards outside the halls of Hemet High School, you're not fat at all.
The book was relatively small but big on emotion as I flipped through the pages and cried on more than one occasion when I recognized something I would have put in my own letter to my younger self.
The more I read, the more I thought that every woman SHOULD write a letter to her younger self. Maybe no one ever reads it. Maybe it serves as an open letter to your own daughter or another young girl who might never admit that something in the letter made a difference to her. Maybe its only purpose is a sort of therapy to recognize what you didn't know then and how you might change things knowing what you know now. Maybe, like my letter – it's a way of your grown up self to just let go and know that the person you were then made you the person you are today.
So here is my letter… and if you feel so inclined… write your own. It might make a difference to someone someday.
Dear Angel,
You're getting ready to celebrate your 16th birthday! I know sometimes you're surprised you made it! I know it seemed like you would never arrive here – but you did! Believe me when I tell you that as you get older, time goes by much more quickly, so slow down… You have all the time in the world to grow up!
Don't worry about all the drama that surrounds high school girls. The circle of friends that you have now is large… but the circle that truly matters will be small. The friends that are important will remain part of your life for a very long time. So don't get caught up in all that seems so serious right now. I promise, it's really not.
I won't lie to you, the next few years are not going to be at all what you are expecting. I know you have some ideas of how things are going to be but life is happening. Choices are about to be made and sometimes things just don't happen the way we think they should. It will be very difficult and at times will even be scary but you will know in the depth of your spirit that this is not permanent. So hold on tight… it will be a very bumpy ride but trust that one day it will all be just fine and the things you are about to go through will seem like a bad Lifetime Movie.
Hold on to who you are and don't ever sacrifice that for anyone. Not friends, not family, not a husband or a lover. Stand up for yourself and don't make decisions based on fear. Wake up every day and know that no matter what you are facing you are taking it head on and as long as you do that, you will make it. Challenge yourself to be better and to want better because you KNOW better. Even when you think it can't get any worse, try to smile to yourself once in awhile. I can assure you, it's all going to be just fine!
Wishing I could walk you through it,
Angel
PS..
Two more things, I am sorry to tell you that while Troy really is a good guy, he isn't going to be the one who makes you realize what you've been missing. The great news is… by standards outside the halls of Hemet High School, you're not fat at all.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Have your cake and eat it too
I love Carrot Cake. I’ve always been a fan, but as an adult I would almost always forego chocolate cake for Carrot Cake. That was until I met my mother-in-law. I don’t remember for sure how long ago it was when I had my first taste of her Carrot Cake, but I remember knowing I could never look at just an ordinary Carrot Cake again. Lisa told me her mom was a great cook (which was a gross understatement) and Lisa knew I loved carrot cake and had her mom make me one. Lisa brought it over and it looked amazing. Three layers high, covered in thick cream cheese frosting, all completely from scratch, of course. I was almost afraid to eat it out of worry that it wouldn’t taste as good as it looked.
Some of you know what my previous relationship was like and some of the stories behind it. For those that don’t, I will just keep it short for the sake of space and tell you that my ex-girlfriend’s mother was CRAZY with a capital “C!” Not only was she crazy, she was a mean, manipulative, narcissistic, pathological liar. (And that is my way of erring on the side of nice.) She rarely cared about how her actions, words and behavior affected her own husband and children and she definitely didn’t care how it affected me. When I went into that relationship I had all sorts of ideas of how things would be. Her parents (Who lived minutes away) would love me, they would love my small child and we would all live happily ever after. I was very quickly brought to the reality of the situation when I found her mother excluding me at every opportunity, blatantly ignoring me and on more than one occasion spreading outright lies about me.
When that relationship ended, per the request of my therapist I made a list of all the things I wanted in my next relationship. I decided that one (of the MANY) items on my “List Of Things I Will Not Live Without In My Next Relationship” was a loving and supportive immediate family. I have parents, I have grandparents and I have siblings. I didn’t want a lifeline; I just wanted my next relationship to have a family that was supportive of their daughter’s sexuality, and would at least try to get to know me… some people even grow to like me! I shared my list with some of my closest friends and some responses were, “You need to scale that down unless you plan on being with several people.” “You’ll never find one person who fits ALL of that criteria.” “You’ll have to sacrifice something, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.”
Since Lisa and I were friends before we became romantically involved, even though I hadn’t met her parents, I knew she came from a good family. I knew her parents knew she was gay, I knew that they were supportive and accepting of her and I knew that she always spoke very highly of her parents and brother. I very clearly remember the first time I met Lisa’s mom. I had been visiting Lisa and we went to lunch. Afterwards, she said she wanted to take me somewhere and I agreed. We drove for about 25 minutes and not being from that area I had no idea where we were going. As we drove into a small, quiet subdivision I knew she was taking me to her parents house. My heart began to race, I thought I might throw up and I think I even asked her not to take me there. We pulled into the driveway and I could feel the anxiety swallowing me. Lisa laughed as if it were no big deal and after a minute or so, we went inside. Her father wasn’t home, but her mom was. As we were introduced she was smiling and full of humor. (She’s somewhat sarcastic and very witty.) We stayed for a little while and when we left her mom hugged me and told me how nice it was to meet me. I left thinking she seemed nice… but so did Medusa. (The name I not-so-lovingly gave my ex girlfriends mother.) Knowing how family impacted my last relationship, in the beginning I was always concerned (on the verge of paranoid) about Lisa’s parents and whether they liked me or not.
Here I am what feels like many years later. I just finished the last piece of Carrot Cake that Lisa’s mom made ME for LISA’S birthday and I am very happy to say that the Carrot Cake was every bit as good as it looked and Lisa’s family…. They too have been just what they appeared to be. Warm, funny, welcoming and loving.
I’m so glad I added the loving and supportive family to my list as my last relationship was ending, I am so glad I didn’t settle for anything less.
Some of you know what my previous relationship was like and some of the stories behind it. For those that don’t, I will just keep it short for the sake of space and tell you that my ex-girlfriend’s mother was CRAZY with a capital “C!” Not only was she crazy, she was a mean, manipulative, narcissistic, pathological liar. (And that is my way of erring on the side of nice.) She rarely cared about how her actions, words and behavior affected her own husband and children and she definitely didn’t care how it affected me. When I went into that relationship I had all sorts of ideas of how things would be. Her parents (Who lived minutes away) would love me, they would love my small child and we would all live happily ever after. I was very quickly brought to the reality of the situation when I found her mother excluding me at every opportunity, blatantly ignoring me and on more than one occasion spreading outright lies about me.
When that relationship ended, per the request of my therapist I made a list of all the things I wanted in my next relationship. I decided that one (of the MANY) items on my “List Of Things I Will Not Live Without In My Next Relationship” was a loving and supportive immediate family. I have parents, I have grandparents and I have siblings. I didn’t want a lifeline; I just wanted my next relationship to have a family that was supportive of their daughter’s sexuality, and would at least try to get to know me… some people even grow to like me! I shared my list with some of my closest friends and some responses were, “You need to scale that down unless you plan on being with several people.” “You’ll never find one person who fits ALL of that criteria.” “You’ll have to sacrifice something, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.”
Since Lisa and I were friends before we became romantically involved, even though I hadn’t met her parents, I knew she came from a good family. I knew her parents knew she was gay, I knew that they were supportive and accepting of her and I knew that she always spoke very highly of her parents and brother. I very clearly remember the first time I met Lisa’s mom. I had been visiting Lisa and we went to lunch. Afterwards, she said she wanted to take me somewhere and I agreed. We drove for about 25 minutes and not being from that area I had no idea where we were going. As we drove into a small, quiet subdivision I knew she was taking me to her parents house. My heart began to race, I thought I might throw up and I think I even asked her not to take me there. We pulled into the driveway and I could feel the anxiety swallowing me. Lisa laughed as if it were no big deal and after a minute or so, we went inside. Her father wasn’t home, but her mom was. As we were introduced she was smiling and full of humor. (She’s somewhat sarcastic and very witty.) We stayed for a little while and when we left her mom hugged me and told me how nice it was to meet me. I left thinking she seemed nice… but so did Medusa. (The name I not-so-lovingly gave my ex girlfriends mother.) Knowing how family impacted my last relationship, in the beginning I was always concerned (on the verge of paranoid) about Lisa’s parents and whether they liked me or not.
Here I am what feels like many years later. I just finished the last piece of Carrot Cake that Lisa’s mom made ME for LISA’S birthday and I am very happy to say that the Carrot Cake was every bit as good as it looked and Lisa’s family…. They too have been just what they appeared to be. Warm, funny, welcoming and loving.
I’m so glad I added the loving and supportive family to my list as my last relationship was ending, I am so glad I didn’t settle for anything less.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Not Like Me
Not Like Me
The following story is absolutely true and can be verified by several people. The names have been slightly changed to protect the not so innocent.
The 8th grade was a year of many changes for me. My family relocated to Southern California from Missouri and my mother married my stepfather. I was not happy about either of these changes. Not because our home in California wasn't a good place or because my stepfather was not a good person, mainly because I was a self-centered spoiled brat. SO… I decided to make every attempt to make my family miserable by being just that. When my mother re-married, my siblings and I stayed with my aunt and uncle while my parents were on their honeymoon. I was one month away from being fourteen.
One day into our hiatus from home, I decided that I could very easily "borrow" my mom's car while they were on their honeymoon and my friends and I could cruise around Hemet in the middle of the night enjoying the freedom of having a drivers license and a car without actually having either of those two things. I had also determined that on the very small chance that I would get caught, it would be by either my very cool aunt or my very cool uncle – neither of which (in my mind) would have ever turned my into the warden. (A term I lovingly gave to my mother.) On the second night of my parent's seven-day honeymoon, I waited until the whole house was quiet, I grabbed the key that was haphazardly lying inside a dish on the bar and slid out the front door of my aunt and uncles house. I approached the baby blue 1980 Chrysler Cordoba as if it were some sort of untouchable treasure chest. I slowly unlocked the door, opened it carefully, slipped it into gear and pushed it two houses down before I got in and started the engine. I was thirteen years old and had no valid experience behind the wheel of a car.
I felt like I had just won the lottery as I made my way toward Grand Teton to pick up one of my best friends, we'll call her "Not Danette." In hindsight, I am pretty confident that I cared about being "Not Danette's" friend way more than she cared about being mine. She was my idol. She was everything I wanted to be back then but didn't have the guts to actually pull it off. She was rebellious but not in the sneaking out and stealing your mom's car kind of way, in the up front and in your face kind of way. "Not Danette" was very cool. She even had a mohawk that I myself would have loved to have had if I'd had the nerve, which I didn't. Everyone seemed to like her and wanted to be in her circle. Even though she was a FRESHMAN, she allowed me in. She brought me into her fold and allowed me to be part of her world even though I was sure I was unworthy. I wanted "Not Danette" to think I was cool too. I wanted her to understand why she let me in. I never wanted her to wonder why I was there or to forget why she found me and started including me in the first place. Thus, "Not Danette" was ALWAYS first. First to be seen at school, first choice to sit with at lunch, first to call on the phone, first to be considered for anything special and first to be picked up when I "borrowed" my Mom's car. After "Not Danette" came the others. "Not Cerena," "Not Melissa," "Not Tina," "Not Regina," "Not Michelle" and more. Anyone who wanted to come could, and we would cruise down Florida Avenue making stops at Games Plus and the local bowling alley.
That night it began and many more nights for the next month or so we repeated the process. My aunt and uncle didn't catch me so when my parents returned from their honeymoon, I kept "borrowing" the car. The only differences were, I had my own key made so I wouldn't have to "borrow" my mom's key, I snuck out of my bedroom window instead of the front door and didn't have to push the car because our driveway was on a hill so it would coast down to the street where I would crank the engine and take off for a few hours of freedom.
Just before summer, I did get caught. Not from an accident, thank God, just by failure to properly parallel park.
I sat in the passenger seat of my own car Friday afternoon at 4:30 pm and wondered how on earth I found the courage to put myself behind the wheel of a car at just thirteen years old. I had no fear back then. I probably would have "borrowed" a plane had one been available. Sadly and sometimes tragically, fear is a foreign concept to many teenagers. As adults we realize the potential implications of being a first time driver. I was reminded of this when realized that I was scared out of my mind as my daughter buckled the driver's side seat belt and began to put the car in gear. Allyssa finally decided she wanted to get her learner's permit. She passed the test and is now legally allowed (and encouraged by the DMV) to drive a motor vehicle. At top speeds of about 35 MPH, five stop signs, three traffic lights, ten miles and twenty minutes later we arrived safely into our driveway. As I took deep breaths to keep from throwing up, I looked at Allyssa, white knuckles to the steering wheel and wondered how we got here this quickly. Not here in the driveway, but HERE. Her sitting next to me, DRIVING! While I was thanking God for allowing us to make back to the house safely, I also said a little Thank You for Allyssa not being at all like I was at her age.
The following story is absolutely true and can be verified by several people. The names have been slightly changed to protect the not so innocent.
The 8th grade was a year of many changes for me. My family relocated to Southern California from Missouri and my mother married my stepfather. I was not happy about either of these changes. Not because our home in California wasn't a good place or because my stepfather was not a good person, mainly because I was a self-centered spoiled brat. SO… I decided to make every attempt to make my family miserable by being just that. When my mother re-married, my siblings and I stayed with my aunt and uncle while my parents were on their honeymoon. I was one month away from being fourteen.
One day into our hiatus from home, I decided that I could very easily "borrow" my mom's car while they were on their honeymoon and my friends and I could cruise around Hemet in the middle of the night enjoying the freedom of having a drivers license and a car without actually having either of those two things. I had also determined that on the very small chance that I would get caught, it would be by either my very cool aunt or my very cool uncle – neither of which (in my mind) would have ever turned my into the warden. (A term I lovingly gave to my mother.) On the second night of my parent's seven-day honeymoon, I waited until the whole house was quiet, I grabbed the key that was haphazardly lying inside a dish on the bar and slid out the front door of my aunt and uncles house. I approached the baby blue 1980 Chrysler Cordoba as if it were some sort of untouchable treasure chest. I slowly unlocked the door, opened it carefully, slipped it into gear and pushed it two houses down before I got in and started the engine. I was thirteen years old and had no valid experience behind the wheel of a car.
I felt like I had just won the lottery as I made my way toward Grand Teton to pick up one of my best friends, we'll call her "Not Danette." In hindsight, I am pretty confident that I cared about being "Not Danette's" friend way more than she cared about being mine. She was my idol. She was everything I wanted to be back then but didn't have the guts to actually pull it off. She was rebellious but not in the sneaking out and stealing your mom's car kind of way, in the up front and in your face kind of way. "Not Danette" was very cool. She even had a mohawk that I myself would have loved to have had if I'd had the nerve, which I didn't. Everyone seemed to like her and wanted to be in her circle. Even though she was a FRESHMAN, she allowed me in. She brought me into her fold and allowed me to be part of her world even though I was sure I was unworthy. I wanted "Not Danette" to think I was cool too. I wanted her to understand why she let me in. I never wanted her to wonder why I was there or to forget why she found me and started including me in the first place. Thus, "Not Danette" was ALWAYS first. First to be seen at school, first choice to sit with at lunch, first to call on the phone, first to be considered for anything special and first to be picked up when I "borrowed" my Mom's car. After "Not Danette" came the others. "Not Cerena," "Not Melissa," "Not Tina," "Not Regina," "Not Michelle" and more. Anyone who wanted to come could, and we would cruise down Florida Avenue making stops at Games Plus and the local bowling alley.
That night it began and many more nights for the next month or so we repeated the process. My aunt and uncle didn't catch me so when my parents returned from their honeymoon, I kept "borrowing" the car. The only differences were, I had my own key made so I wouldn't have to "borrow" my mom's key, I snuck out of my bedroom window instead of the front door and didn't have to push the car because our driveway was on a hill so it would coast down to the street where I would crank the engine and take off for a few hours of freedom.
Just before summer, I did get caught. Not from an accident, thank God, just by failure to properly parallel park.
I sat in the passenger seat of my own car Friday afternoon at 4:30 pm and wondered how on earth I found the courage to put myself behind the wheel of a car at just thirteen years old. I had no fear back then. I probably would have "borrowed" a plane had one been available. Sadly and sometimes tragically, fear is a foreign concept to many teenagers. As adults we realize the potential implications of being a first time driver. I was reminded of this when realized that I was scared out of my mind as my daughter buckled the driver's side seat belt and began to put the car in gear. Allyssa finally decided she wanted to get her learner's permit. She passed the test and is now legally allowed (and encouraged by the DMV) to drive a motor vehicle. At top speeds of about 35 MPH, five stop signs, three traffic lights, ten miles and twenty minutes later we arrived safely into our driveway. As I took deep breaths to keep from throwing up, I looked at Allyssa, white knuckles to the steering wheel and wondered how we got here this quickly. Not here in the driveway, but HERE. Her sitting next to me, DRIVING! While I was thanking God for allowing us to make back to the house safely, I also said a little Thank You for Allyssa not being at all like I was at her age.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
One month and counting!
One month and two days... We made it ONE MONTH and TWO DAYS! On some level even I am surprised that Lisa hasn't made an escape, passport in hand, never to be seen or heard from again. Not because married life is bad - it's the opposite actually - but because there is still a small (or not so small) part of me that thinks I am not good at relationships and that at any minute she will have figured that out.
I've had this conversation with some of my friends over the past year or so. Me, creeping out onto the crazy ledge worrying about everything from losing my identity to adapting to new toothpaste. Living together, sharing finances, having three too many dogs, having a enough hormones in the house to keep a therapist on retainer and obsessing about the FACT (not opinion) that I was someone's wife before and I wasn't very good at it. And my friends, talking me down and reminding me that first and foremost I am just a tiny bit controlling and it would be good for me to give some of that up in the form of cohabitation and joint accounts, that there are worse things then having to share space with FOUR dogs, (although sometimes I wonder) and that I was very young when I got married the first time (for all the wrong reasons) and that my husband at the time (probably along with the fact that I was a lesbian in a straight girls body) had allot to do with why our marriage didn't work. My best friend finally said to me, "Get over it. Anyone who's ever been in even one relationship that didn't work is still a failure at relationships. We are all failures until we find the right person to be with." So... I got over it. Kind of.
So here we are. Everything is still in tact. She hasn't tried to escape in the middle of the night (although I did hide her passport just in case) and while I do think our relationship is different now that we are fully committed to each other and sharing every aspect of our lives, it's all very, very good!
I am doing the best I can. I am playing nice with my space, I even let her use MY closet, when there is a PERFECTLY good closet just across the hall. I had allot less trouble with the joining of the accounts than I thought I would and even don't mind the dogs and will mind them even less when they learn to vacuum. She and Allyssa get along fabulously and even though there are about 17 days out of the month when one or more of us is a bundle of emotions, there has been no blood shed. I get up and make her breakfast and lunch every day and see her off to work, (even though she wakes up over an hour before I do) and I have even done her laundry a time or two. So I feel like I am doing okay at this marriage thing.
I know it takes allot more than sharing, making lunch and doing laundry but we did celebrate our one month anniversary with some great food on the grill and some good wine, so we must be doing something right.
One month down and only 720 more (give or take a few) to go!
I've had this conversation with some of my friends over the past year or so. Me, creeping out onto the crazy ledge worrying about everything from losing my identity to adapting to new toothpaste. Living together, sharing finances, having three too many dogs, having a enough hormones in the house to keep a therapist on retainer and obsessing about the FACT (not opinion) that I was someone's wife before and I wasn't very good at it. And my friends, talking me down and reminding me that first and foremost I am just a tiny bit controlling and it would be good for me to give some of that up in the form of cohabitation and joint accounts, that there are worse things then having to share space with FOUR dogs, (although sometimes I wonder) and that I was very young when I got married the first time (for all the wrong reasons) and that my husband at the time (probably along with the fact that I was a lesbian in a straight girls body) had allot to do with why our marriage didn't work. My best friend finally said to me, "Get over it. Anyone who's ever been in even one relationship that didn't work is still a failure at relationships. We are all failures until we find the right person to be with." So... I got over it. Kind of.
So here we are. Everything is still in tact. She hasn't tried to escape in the middle of the night (although I did hide her passport just in case) and while I do think our relationship is different now that we are fully committed to each other and sharing every aspect of our lives, it's all very, very good!
I am doing the best I can. I am playing nice with my space, I even let her use MY closet, when there is a PERFECTLY good closet just across the hall. I had allot less trouble with the joining of the accounts than I thought I would and even don't mind the dogs and will mind them even less when they learn to vacuum. She and Allyssa get along fabulously and even though there are about 17 days out of the month when one or more of us is a bundle of emotions, there has been no blood shed. I get up and make her breakfast and lunch every day and see her off to work, (even though she wakes up over an hour before I do) and I have even done her laundry a time or two. So I feel like I am doing okay at this marriage thing.
I know it takes allot more than sharing, making lunch and doing laundry but we did celebrate our one month anniversary with some great food on the grill and some good wine, so we must be doing something right.
One month down and only 720 more (give or take a few) to go!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
The Wedding Of A Lifetime
We've had so many friends ask about the wedding. Was it wonderful? Was it raining? Did you go on a Rosie Cruise? Did you have any strange looks / reactions on the "straight" cruise? Do you wish you had done it at church? And the most requested item of the day is to see our vows. So here goes, for anyone who's interested.
We left for Florida on Saturday, April 5th and headed toward Cocoa Beach where Lisa's "second parents" reside. We spent a couple of days with them – ALWAYS MUCH FUN – before we hit Miami on Monday to board our Carnival (not Rosie) Cruise. (Which was wonderful by the way!) The weather in Florida (as you may know) is unpredictable at best. It can be raining one minute and the sun can be brightly shining the next. Well, the first two days we were in Cocoa Beach, there was little to no sun shining which prompted Lisa, Allyssa and two of the unnamed parties attending to doubt my theory that at MY wedding, (outdoors, on the beach) there could be NO RAIN and I begged them to stop use of the word immediately as not to throw the negative energy out into the universe.
We got on the ship on Monday and met with most of our party, my best friend Kelly, her husband Stan, my brother Jeremy and his fiancée, Elizabeth. I was surprised the Friday before we left by one of my dearest friends Race and his partner DJ by letting me know that they too would be at the wedding in Key West, so we looked forward to seeing them there. Monday night we hung out, had some drinks and enjoyed each other's company. Tuesday morning we docked in Key West. We all got ready in our cabins and had agreed to meet at 8:00 AM. I instructed my brother the night before NOT to be drinking and told my best friend that while I have learned to tolerate her CONSTANT tardiness over the last 15 years – today would be an exception and I would be seriously pissed if she were late. My hair and makeup looked great! Allyssa and Lisa looked great! We walked out of the ship for our big day… and it was raining.
I bit my lip to keep from crying, knowing that my naturally curly hair would be a mess in about 30 seconds and waited for the trolley to take us into town. We called the amazing woman who was performing the ceremony for a plan B and she instructed us to go to a different beach where there was a small pavilion in case it didn't stop raining. I teared up at the mention of rain and told anyone within earshot to stop saying the "R" Word! There would be NO rain at my wedding!! I had imagined my day much like the scene in Snow White, where she enters the forest and there are birds singing, sun shining, and butterflies greeting her with a visible happiness in the air. I was NOT HAVING RAIN, DAMMIT!!
We got off the trolley and waited for the rest of our party to arrive and just like I told it to, the rain stopped and the sun came out.
Everyone arrived sober and on time and we went to the beach. The ceremony was beautiful and couldn't have been more perfect. (Even though my hair and make up was a wreck – pictures to be posted soon) We wouldn't have done it any other way. Surrounded by some of the most important people in my life and knowing that the ones that couldn't be there were thinking of us, Lisa and I said our vows and promised to love one another until the end of time. Here they are… A reminder of why I love her, and why I can't wait to spend the rest of my life doing just that!
(Note… Lisa and I had not shared our vows with each other prior to the ceremony. I was supposed to read my vows first – BUT alas… I was crying before I could get a word out so I managed to peep out, "You go" and she read hers first.)
Lisa:
Angel, first and foremost I want to remind you of how incredibly lucky I feel to be standing here before you, vowing to spend the rest of my life with you. You are a remarkable woman, who has put me on a plateau of happiness that I never dreamed of. You move me, and have brought me to such a better place in my life – my dreams are now reality and I owe it all to you. In your eyes I see a beautiful and exciting future filled with love, laughter and complete happiness. In you I see the half of my soul that makes me complete. I choose you, Angel, as my partner, my lover, and my best friend. In front of friends and family I promise to cherish you through every obstacle that may be put in our path.
I promise to love you, even when you insist on listening to 80's soundtracks. I vow to be your faithful partner in good times and bad and even when the Steelers are having a losing season. I will trust and respect you, laugh with you when you throw me off the bed and cry with you during a Publix Commercial. I promise to make you laugh as often as possible by poking fun at myself and promise to sing Tim McGraw's part in "It's Your Love." I vow to care for and protect you, to comfort and encourage you and to support your decisions if you ever decide to make any. Lastly, but most importantly, I swear to spoil you and to treat you like the princess we all know you are.
From this day forward, I give you my hand, my heart and my love, for as long as we both shall live.
Those of you who know Lisa – know that the vows wouldn't have been hers had there not been some humor involved.
Angel:
On November 13th, 2005 I sat across the table from a very good friend and enjoyed a very long lunch. In hindsight, I know I fell in love that day. Just two and a half short years after that six-hour "lunch", I have the honor and privilege of marrying my very best friend, my biggest supporter (and challenge) and my greatest love.
In your soul I have found my mate, in your eyes I have found my happiness and in your heart I have found my home and even though a lifetime will never be long enough, I can't imagine living one day of my life without you by my side.
Thank you for taking me as I am; loving both Allyssa and I, and welcoming us both into your heart. You fill my world with meaning, inspiration, joy, laughter and love. Thank you for being all I could have ever dreamed of and so much more.
Today I promise to be your partner in all things, standing beside you through both challenges and successes. I promise to encourage and nurture your hopes and dreams, always respecting you as an individual. I promise to be faithful to you today and always, understanding that through this perfect love has been born a perfect trust and I promise to love you with everything I have, knowing that you have loved me more than I have ever been loved before.
Lisa, today I choose you to be my partner, and commit to you my whole heart for my whole life.
Following the ceremony, we spent time with our friends at brunch and headed back to the ship. I waited my whole life for her and this relationship, and the day we said our vows was absolutely perfect and well worth the wait!
The rest of the trip was full of birds singing, sun shining and a visible happiness in the air. I think I may have even seen a butterfly or two.
We left for Florida on Saturday, April 5th and headed toward Cocoa Beach where Lisa's "second parents" reside. We spent a couple of days with them – ALWAYS MUCH FUN – before we hit Miami on Monday to board our Carnival (not Rosie) Cruise. (Which was wonderful by the way!) The weather in Florida (as you may know) is unpredictable at best. It can be raining one minute and the sun can be brightly shining the next. Well, the first two days we were in Cocoa Beach, there was little to no sun shining which prompted Lisa, Allyssa and two of the unnamed parties attending to doubt my theory that at MY wedding, (outdoors, on the beach) there could be NO RAIN and I begged them to stop use of the word immediately as not to throw the negative energy out into the universe.
We got on the ship on Monday and met with most of our party, my best friend Kelly, her husband Stan, my brother Jeremy and his fiancée, Elizabeth. I was surprised the Friday before we left by one of my dearest friends Race and his partner DJ by letting me know that they too would be at the wedding in Key West, so we looked forward to seeing them there. Monday night we hung out, had some drinks and enjoyed each other's company. Tuesday morning we docked in Key West. We all got ready in our cabins and had agreed to meet at 8:00 AM. I instructed my brother the night before NOT to be drinking and told my best friend that while I have learned to tolerate her CONSTANT tardiness over the last 15 years – today would be an exception and I would be seriously pissed if she were late. My hair and makeup looked great! Allyssa and Lisa looked great! We walked out of the ship for our big day… and it was raining.
I bit my lip to keep from crying, knowing that my naturally curly hair would be a mess in about 30 seconds and waited for the trolley to take us into town. We called the amazing woman who was performing the ceremony for a plan B and she instructed us to go to a different beach where there was a small pavilion in case it didn't stop raining. I teared up at the mention of rain and told anyone within earshot to stop saying the "R" Word! There would be NO rain at my wedding!! I had imagined my day much like the scene in Snow White, where she enters the forest and there are birds singing, sun shining, and butterflies greeting her with a visible happiness in the air. I was NOT HAVING RAIN, DAMMIT!!
We got off the trolley and waited for the rest of our party to arrive and just like I told it to, the rain stopped and the sun came out.
Everyone arrived sober and on time and we went to the beach. The ceremony was beautiful and couldn't have been more perfect. (Even though my hair and make up was a wreck – pictures to be posted soon) We wouldn't have done it any other way. Surrounded by some of the most important people in my life and knowing that the ones that couldn't be there were thinking of us, Lisa and I said our vows and promised to love one another until the end of time. Here they are… A reminder of why I love her, and why I can't wait to spend the rest of my life doing just that!
(Note… Lisa and I had not shared our vows with each other prior to the ceremony. I was supposed to read my vows first – BUT alas… I was crying before I could get a word out so I managed to peep out, "You go" and she read hers first.)
Lisa:
Angel, first and foremost I want to remind you of how incredibly lucky I feel to be standing here before you, vowing to spend the rest of my life with you. You are a remarkable woman, who has put me on a plateau of happiness that I never dreamed of. You move me, and have brought me to such a better place in my life – my dreams are now reality and I owe it all to you. In your eyes I see a beautiful and exciting future filled with love, laughter and complete happiness. In you I see the half of my soul that makes me complete. I choose you, Angel, as my partner, my lover, and my best friend. In front of friends and family I promise to cherish you through every obstacle that may be put in our path.
I promise to love you, even when you insist on listening to 80's soundtracks. I vow to be your faithful partner in good times and bad and even when the Steelers are having a losing season. I will trust and respect you, laugh with you when you throw me off the bed and cry with you during a Publix Commercial. I promise to make you laugh as often as possible by poking fun at myself and promise to sing Tim McGraw's part in "It's Your Love." I vow to care for and protect you, to comfort and encourage you and to support your decisions if you ever decide to make any. Lastly, but most importantly, I swear to spoil you and to treat you like the princess we all know you are.
From this day forward, I give you my hand, my heart and my love, for as long as we both shall live.
Those of you who know Lisa – know that the vows wouldn't have been hers had there not been some humor involved.
Angel:
On November 13th, 2005 I sat across the table from a very good friend and enjoyed a very long lunch. In hindsight, I know I fell in love that day. Just two and a half short years after that six-hour "lunch", I have the honor and privilege of marrying my very best friend, my biggest supporter (and challenge) and my greatest love.
In your soul I have found my mate, in your eyes I have found my happiness and in your heart I have found my home and even though a lifetime will never be long enough, I can't imagine living one day of my life without you by my side.
Thank you for taking me as I am; loving both Allyssa and I, and welcoming us both into your heart. You fill my world with meaning, inspiration, joy, laughter and love. Thank you for being all I could have ever dreamed of and so much more.
Today I promise to be your partner in all things, standing beside you through both challenges and successes. I promise to encourage and nurture your hopes and dreams, always respecting you as an individual. I promise to be faithful to you today and always, understanding that through this perfect love has been born a perfect trust and I promise to love you with everything I have, knowing that you have loved me more than I have ever been loved before.
Lisa, today I choose you to be my partner, and commit to you my whole heart for my whole life.
Following the ceremony, we spent time with our friends at brunch and headed back to the ship. I waited my whole life for her and this relationship, and the day we said our vows was absolutely perfect and well worth the wait!
The rest of the trip was full of birds singing, sun shining and a visible happiness in the air. I think I may have even seen a butterfly or two.
Friday, March 7, 2008
I wonder....
I was browsing Internet news yesterday and listened to a clip from Good Morning America that included an interview from 2003 with Amy Yasbeck – John Ritter's widow. She tearfully spoke about her husband and how he treated people. "To go back and look at his life… He talked to you like that was the last time he was ever going to talk to you, every time he saw you. He'd give you a little summary of how wonderful you were and how proud he was of you and you felt loved and supported and sent off with a little bounce in your step out into the world. He did that every day."
After I listened, with a very heavy heart I thought of one of my oldest friends (since junior high) and the fact that just two weeks ago she very unexpectedly became a widow at age 34 - with three young children. I thought of another friend who several months ago unexpectedly lost her mother and is continually comforting her young sons as they miss their Grandma. I thought of my own daughter who at only 13 had to experience the unexpected loss one of her own very close friends and is planning to donate an Easter lily at our church in his name as the second anniversary of his death is coming up. Then I thought about myself for a minute and wondered if the people in my life know, truly know, every day how I feel about them.
I wonder if my Mother knows that even though we rarely see eye to eye, I value and appreciate everything she has brought into my life. If my father knows that if given the choice, I still would have chosen him to be my Dad. I wonder if my step-parents know that I wouldn't have rather grown up any other way and I am very happy to be the only person I know that truly feels as though I have two moms and two dads … and neither of my parents are gay. I wonder if my brother knows that I love him with all my heart and through good times and bad, I've got his back and if my future sister-in-law knows that I love her as if she were my biological sister. I wonder if my sister knows that even though there aren't two more different people on the planet, I only wish the very best for her and if my two youngest siblings know that regardless of the differences in our age, I am so very proud of them both. I wonder if my niece and nephews know that not only am I the best Auntie ever… I love those kids like I love my own. I wonder if each of my friends, no matter how near or far know that they hold a very special place in my heart and in some cases have done or said things that have had lasting impact in my life. I wonder if my daughter knows that even on her very worst day, I love her more than I could have ever fathomed loving another human being. That my love for her is absolute and unconditional and that I am more proud of her than I can even express. I wonder if Lisa knows that without a shadow of doubt, that I love her with my whole heart, that she is the best thing about me and that she truly makes me a better person… The list could go on…but I wonder if when my time here is up if the people that are a part of my life will say that with me they felt loved and supported and sent off with a little bounce in their step out into the world…
I wonder if I could do that every day.
After I listened, with a very heavy heart I thought of one of my oldest friends (since junior high) and the fact that just two weeks ago she very unexpectedly became a widow at age 34 - with three young children. I thought of another friend who several months ago unexpectedly lost her mother and is continually comforting her young sons as they miss their Grandma. I thought of my own daughter who at only 13 had to experience the unexpected loss one of her own very close friends and is planning to donate an Easter lily at our church in his name as the second anniversary of his death is coming up. Then I thought about myself for a minute and wondered if the people in my life know, truly know, every day how I feel about them.
I wonder if my Mother knows that even though we rarely see eye to eye, I value and appreciate everything she has brought into my life. If my father knows that if given the choice, I still would have chosen him to be my Dad. I wonder if my step-parents know that I wouldn't have rather grown up any other way and I am very happy to be the only person I know that truly feels as though I have two moms and two dads … and neither of my parents are gay. I wonder if my brother knows that I love him with all my heart and through good times and bad, I've got his back and if my future sister-in-law knows that I love her as if she were my biological sister. I wonder if my sister knows that even though there aren't two more different people on the planet, I only wish the very best for her and if my two youngest siblings know that regardless of the differences in our age, I am so very proud of them both. I wonder if my niece and nephews know that not only am I the best Auntie ever… I love those kids like I love my own. I wonder if each of my friends, no matter how near or far know that they hold a very special place in my heart and in some cases have done or said things that have had lasting impact in my life. I wonder if my daughter knows that even on her very worst day, I love her more than I could have ever fathomed loving another human being. That my love for her is absolute and unconditional and that I am more proud of her than I can even express. I wonder if Lisa knows that without a shadow of doubt, that I love her with my whole heart, that she is the best thing about me and that she truly makes me a better person… The list could go on…but I wonder if when my time here is up if the people that are a part of my life will say that with me they felt loved and supported and sent off with a little bounce in their step out into the world…
I wonder if I could do that every day.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Spoiled? Who? ME??
Over the last few days, my wonderfully witty fiancée has made mention (more than once) that I am spoiled. Each time I think, "Spoiled?? ME?? Surely, she's using her humor to try to charm me, she can't be serious??" Last night while we were in the middle of an impromptu date night at home (that happens a lot when you have a 15 year old) with take out and a movie she said it AGAIN! And I started thinking about my past, present and future and started to determine where on earth she would come up with such a notion.
Those of you that have known me since childhood, (and there are a few on this list) I think would concur – I was not a spoiled kid. I did a lot of things I shouldn't have been doing but that was because my parents didn't know – not because they let me do whatever I wanted. My Mom was a single parent of three kids until I was 13, so there wasn't an overabundance of money to shower us with and most of the time I wondered if my Mom even knew I was around she was so busy dealing with the other two monsters. (Oops! I mean kids.) *NOTE: Don't misunderstand, I am not complaining. Back then I thought that was awesome! I could do whatever I wanted and as long as I was getting decent grades, my Mom would never even question me. In my early adult years I was a young mother who found herself single after just a few years of a nightmare marriage. Stayed single, struggled financially and at times worked three or four jobs at a time to stay on top of everything. It's only been over the last 5 years or so that things have evened out and all of that work has paid off. Still… I don't know that I would call myself "SPOILED??"
So then I started to think about what was going on when she made mention of my pampered life. Once she was making sure I had everything I needed for bed, I had been sick and she had been over taking care of me for about a week. BUT – I was sick which RARELY happens! The other night, I fell asleep unusually early with my ring on – which I usually take off – and she removed it for me and put it in the spot, I usually keep it. BUT – that has NEVER happened before. She makes dinner if she's over and is home before I am. BUT – she needs to have a broader cooking repertoire. She had no problem rubbing my feet when I mistakenly wore four-inch heels on a day when I knew I wouldn't be home until after 8:00 with back-to-back meetings in multiple locations. BUT – she NEVER has to (nor would she) wear heels and NEVER has to spend literally ALL day in meetings. She even very willingly takes care of my dogs and my daughter on days like that. BUT – those days don't happen very often. She fixes things. She replaced four light fixtures and installed a ceiling fan. BUT – This will also be her house soon. She built me new shelves in my closet. BUT – she will need somewhere to put her clothes. She loves me with all my many flaws. BUT - Who wouldn't??
Okay…. She's right. I'm spoiled rotten and my next blog will be about how I TOTALLY deserve it!
Notice: She's very spoiled as well, but I don't build things.
Those of you that have known me since childhood, (and there are a few on this list) I think would concur – I was not a spoiled kid. I did a lot of things I shouldn't have been doing but that was because my parents didn't know – not because they let me do whatever I wanted. My Mom was a single parent of three kids until I was 13, so there wasn't an overabundance of money to shower us with and most of the time I wondered if my Mom even knew I was around she was so busy dealing with the other two monsters. (Oops! I mean kids.) *NOTE: Don't misunderstand, I am not complaining. Back then I thought that was awesome! I could do whatever I wanted and as long as I was getting decent grades, my Mom would never even question me. In my early adult years I was a young mother who found herself single after just a few years of a nightmare marriage. Stayed single, struggled financially and at times worked three or four jobs at a time to stay on top of everything. It's only been over the last 5 years or so that things have evened out and all of that work has paid off. Still… I don't know that I would call myself "SPOILED??"
So then I started to think about what was going on when she made mention of my pampered life. Once she was making sure I had everything I needed for bed, I had been sick and she had been over taking care of me for about a week. BUT – I was sick which RARELY happens! The other night, I fell asleep unusually early with my ring on – which I usually take off – and she removed it for me and put it in the spot, I usually keep it. BUT – that has NEVER happened before. She makes dinner if she's over and is home before I am. BUT – she needs to have a broader cooking repertoire. She had no problem rubbing my feet when I mistakenly wore four-inch heels on a day when I knew I wouldn't be home until after 8:00 with back-to-back meetings in multiple locations. BUT – she NEVER has to (nor would she) wear heels and NEVER has to spend literally ALL day in meetings. She even very willingly takes care of my dogs and my daughter on days like that. BUT – those days don't happen very often. She fixes things. She replaced four light fixtures and installed a ceiling fan. BUT – This will also be her house soon. She built me new shelves in my closet. BUT – she will need somewhere to put her clothes. She loves me with all my many flaws. BUT - Who wouldn't??
Okay…. She's right. I'm spoiled rotten and my next blog will be about how I TOTALLY deserve it!
Notice: She's very spoiled as well, but I don't build things.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Exactly What It's Supposed To Be
Last week I received a package at work. I knew what it was, I had been expecting it. It was my fiancée's wedding band. I looked at the package for what felt like an hour and finally opened it. There were no surprises, it was exactly what I had expected. From the metal, to the finish, to the inscription (a line from the vows I wrote for the ceremony) it was exactly what it was supposed to be. Packaged very nicely in a black velvet box – exactly how it was supposed to be. I looked at the ring, examined it, even tried it on my own hand and wondered if our marriage would be like that ring. Exactly what it's supposed to be. Then I had to wonder… What is it supposed to be??
Some of you know it's been a long time since I was married the first time. That was by design. I've had other offers in the past 13 years, one formal offer (twice, same person) and one informal offer, different person. I declined every time. When I was divorced 13 years ago, I really thought I wasn't cut out for marriage and at a mere twenty years old, I was right! I didn't know the first thing about being someone's wife and when my marriage ended after two years of HELL I was NOT about to try that role again! Life went on and I had two other long term relationships that ended for a number of reasons – but not before the subject of marriage had been broached. With both of those relationships, I knew there was not a chance that I could commit my life to either of those people. Not only would it have never worked – hence the inevitable demise of the relationship, but I was just too damn selfish. I didn't want to share my space, I didn't want to share my stuff, I DEFINITELY didn't want to share what little money I had and I didn't really want to share my daughter. Somehow… even though this relationship (on the romantic level) has only been in existence a fraction of the time of the last two – somehow, thankfully this is different.
Someone asked me the other day how long Lisa and I had been together and I had to think about it. I thought about it later and realized I had to think about it because it seems as though it's just always been. Lisa and I were good friends before we took our relationship to the next level and even since then, it just seems as though we have always been together. Everything just clicks. There is a flow about our relationship that just works. It's impossible to imagine my future without her, but even more strangely I can barely remember a past without her in it.
All of that aside, I still am not exactly sure what a marriage is supposed to look like, feel like and be like. I've never been in a successful one and with divorced parents, I didn't grow up looking at their relationship and wishing for a marriage just like theirs. I don't know very many people that I would consider really happily married, (beyond about 5 years) so there aren't many couples I feel like we could learn from. * PLEASE DO NOT EMAIL ME THAT YOU ARE HAPPILY MARRIED! I SAID I DON'T KNOW MANY – I DIDN'T SAY THAT I DIDN'T KNOW ANY!) That's when I took a deep breath (to ward off the panic that was setting in) and decided maybe THAT it what it's supposed to be. Trial and error… learning from our mistakes and loving each other through each one of them. Remembering that at the end of every day, even if we are angry, we still love each other more than anyone else ever has. Realizing that one of us has never been married and the other one shouldn't have been, so we're both learning something new.
I read a quote once that said, "True love does not come by finding the perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly." That like Lisa's ring… is exactly how it's supposed to be.
Some of you know it's been a long time since I was married the first time. That was by design. I've had other offers in the past 13 years, one formal offer (twice, same person) and one informal offer, different person. I declined every time. When I was divorced 13 years ago, I really thought I wasn't cut out for marriage and at a mere twenty years old, I was right! I didn't know the first thing about being someone's wife and when my marriage ended after two years of HELL I was NOT about to try that role again! Life went on and I had two other long term relationships that ended for a number of reasons – but not before the subject of marriage had been broached. With both of those relationships, I knew there was not a chance that I could commit my life to either of those people. Not only would it have never worked – hence the inevitable demise of the relationship, but I was just too damn selfish. I didn't want to share my space, I didn't want to share my stuff, I DEFINITELY didn't want to share what little money I had and I didn't really want to share my daughter. Somehow… even though this relationship (on the romantic level) has only been in existence a fraction of the time of the last two – somehow, thankfully this is different.
Someone asked me the other day how long Lisa and I had been together and I had to think about it. I thought about it later and realized I had to think about it because it seems as though it's just always been. Lisa and I were good friends before we took our relationship to the next level and even since then, it just seems as though we have always been together. Everything just clicks. There is a flow about our relationship that just works. It's impossible to imagine my future without her, but even more strangely I can barely remember a past without her in it.
All of that aside, I still am not exactly sure what a marriage is supposed to look like, feel like and be like. I've never been in a successful one and with divorced parents, I didn't grow up looking at their relationship and wishing for a marriage just like theirs. I don't know very many people that I would consider really happily married, (beyond about 5 years) so there aren't many couples I feel like we could learn from. * PLEASE DO NOT EMAIL ME THAT YOU ARE HAPPILY MARRIED! I SAID I DON'T KNOW MANY – I DIDN'T SAY THAT I DIDN'T KNOW ANY!) That's when I took a deep breath (to ward off the panic that was setting in) and decided maybe THAT it what it's supposed to be. Trial and error… learning from our mistakes and loving each other through each one of them. Remembering that at the end of every day, even if we are angry, we still love each other more than anyone else ever has. Realizing that one of us has never been married and the other one shouldn't have been, so we're both learning something new.
I read a quote once that said, "True love does not come by finding the perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly." That like Lisa's ring… is exactly how it's supposed to be.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Learning How & Who To Love
I don't remember exactly how old I was when my grandmother first told me that you should never make someone a priority when they only consider you an option. I do remember that I furrowed my eyebrows and half smiled pretending like I understood only to be thinking in the back of my mind that she was crazy. As something called "Life" happened, I began to understand what she meant. Unfortunately, I didn't choose to actually act on the advice, but I did start to understand it. Just about three years ago, I decided that I would actually start acting on that principle and while in some instances it's been heartbreaking, I know now that the most important people in my life don't consider me an option.
It's a shame that it took me all of thirty years to figure out how and who to love, but it did. While I am one to believe you are always where you are supposed to be, that everything happens for a reason and I genuinely value even the most horrible of times over my adult life knowing that it only brought me closer to the person I was to become – I can't help but wish or at least wonder how things may have been different if someone had told me just the most basic truths about relationships. So this, my friends, is a small (very small) list of things I think are important in relationships. Relationships of all kinds… romantic, platonic, etc. Nothing profound - just my opinion. Just an open letter of sorts to my incredibly amazing daughter and anyone else who might need it. Hoping that someday she will be writing a blog about what she learned from me about relationships…. And I hope every word of it is positive.
Of course it begins… "Never make someone a priority if they only consider you an option."
Fall in love with your best friend and if you are falling in love with someone who is not yet your best friend, make sure you can envision them in that role. Be honest with yourself and be honest with the people you love. Tell the people you care about exactly what you expect – your relationships will be better for it. Be confident in your worth and expect the people you love to know your worth as well. Don't get involved with people you need to change – it won't happen and it shouldn't happen. You have to evolve on your own, and so do the people in your life. Know the difference between friends and acquaintances, both are important, but there is a difference. Treat your friends, family, partners, spouses and even strangers the way you want to be treated. You never know how or when you can change someone's day, week or even life in a positive or negative way. Spend your life with someone who will do little things that make a difference, even if that difference only means something to you. Be certain that the people in your life love you for who you are and for no other reason. Know that the only unconditional love is between parents and their children, understand your limitations as well as those of the people who love you. Love and be loved with all your soul can give and take.
And one more – because this blog has gone on way too long… Spend your life with someone who makes you laugh, even when you're dreaming.
It's a shame that it took me all of thirty years to figure out how and who to love, but it did. While I am one to believe you are always where you are supposed to be, that everything happens for a reason and I genuinely value even the most horrible of times over my adult life knowing that it only brought me closer to the person I was to become – I can't help but wish or at least wonder how things may have been different if someone had told me just the most basic truths about relationships. So this, my friends, is a small (very small) list of things I think are important in relationships. Relationships of all kinds… romantic, platonic, etc. Nothing profound - just my opinion. Just an open letter of sorts to my incredibly amazing daughter and anyone else who might need it. Hoping that someday she will be writing a blog about what she learned from me about relationships…. And I hope every word of it is positive.
Of course it begins… "Never make someone a priority if they only consider you an option."
Fall in love with your best friend and if you are falling in love with someone who is not yet your best friend, make sure you can envision them in that role. Be honest with yourself and be honest with the people you love. Tell the people you care about exactly what you expect – your relationships will be better for it. Be confident in your worth and expect the people you love to know your worth as well. Don't get involved with people you need to change – it won't happen and it shouldn't happen. You have to evolve on your own, and so do the people in your life. Know the difference between friends and acquaintances, both are important, but there is a difference. Treat your friends, family, partners, spouses and even strangers the way you want to be treated. You never know how or when you can change someone's day, week or even life in a positive or negative way. Spend your life with someone who will do little things that make a difference, even if that difference only means something to you. Be certain that the people in your life love you for who you are and for no other reason. Know that the only unconditional love is between parents and their children, understand your limitations as well as those of the people who love you. Love and be loved with all your soul can give and take.
And one more – because this blog has gone on way too long… Spend your life with someone who makes you laugh, even when you're dreaming.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Myth vs. Reality
So I officially "came out" via the world wide web. This still makes me chuckle a little bit because I suppose I didn't realize how many people that I don't see in "real life" didn't know I was gay! That being said, after the shock wore off most of my friends were very happy for me and very supportive. I did find out that LOTS of people don't really KNOW any lesbians – or not well enough to ask them very personal questions --- oh wait, if they didn't know I was gay, they probably don't know me well enough either…. Just kidding. So I decided I would occasionally write on the topic to close the gap between myth and reality.
My first theme… Girls Dating Girls.
So now we ALL know, I am a Lesbian. I live in the South, do not live in a "gay" neighborhood AND… I do not even remotely resemble your stereotypical lesbian. (Please don't pretend not to know the type, just because you judge by appearances doesn't necessarily mean you are homophobic.) I have had the question asked - MORE THAN ONCE – "So, which one of you is like, uh, the uh, guy?" I am here to tell you, we are both very much girls – and we both happen to like it that way. Now, anyone of you that has met my lovely Lisa can attest, that while we are both definitely women, she on most days is less feminine than I am. Not all couples have these "roles" but I would like to share with you the advantages to being of the more feminine variety and finding that your attractions lie with the opposite.
So here are my Top Ten Reasons I completely understand (and highly recommend) loving a woman of the less feminine variety.
10.) If you play your cards right and choose carefully, you can double your wardrobe. (At least where cargo shorts and t-shirts are concerned.)
9.) You will never have to cry over IKEA's horrific directions again!
8.) Mowing your own grass, a thing of the past.
7.) More counter space for your own hair care products.
6.) Being allowed to choose any and as many home décor items as you like and not having to argue over decorators' colors.
5.) Never again will you blow a fuse due to too many hair care appliances being plugged in at once.
4.) You will never look all over for your eyelash curler only to find it's in her purse.
3.) Never having to go to the bar for my own drinks.
2.) You will never receive a gift that was given in hopes that you will share. Example: bags, hats, shoes, perfume, etc.
And the number one reason I love a woman less feminine than myself….
1.) I get all kinds of ME time during football season!
My first theme… Girls Dating Girls.
So now we ALL know, I am a Lesbian. I live in the South, do not live in a "gay" neighborhood AND… I do not even remotely resemble your stereotypical lesbian. (Please don't pretend not to know the type, just because you judge by appearances doesn't necessarily mean you are homophobic.) I have had the question asked - MORE THAN ONCE – "So, which one of you is like, uh, the uh, guy?" I am here to tell you, we are both very much girls – and we both happen to like it that way. Now, anyone of you that has met my lovely Lisa can attest, that while we are both definitely women, she on most days is less feminine than I am. Not all couples have these "roles" but I would like to share with you the advantages to being of the more feminine variety and finding that your attractions lie with the opposite.
So here are my Top Ten Reasons I completely understand (and highly recommend) loving a woman of the less feminine variety.
10.) If you play your cards right and choose carefully, you can double your wardrobe. (At least where cargo shorts and t-shirts are concerned.)
9.) You will never have to cry over IKEA's horrific directions again!
8.) Mowing your own grass, a thing of the past.
7.) More counter space for your own hair care products.
6.) Being allowed to choose any and as many home décor items as you like and not having to argue over decorators' colors.
5.) Never again will you blow a fuse due to too many hair care appliances being plugged in at once.
4.) You will never look all over for your eyelash curler only to find it's in her purse.
3.) Never having to go to the bar for my own drinks.
2.) You will never receive a gift that was given in hopes that you will share. Example: bags, hats, shoes, perfume, etc.
And the number one reason I love a woman less feminine than myself….
1.) I get all kinds of ME time during football season!
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