I officially made it through my first year of marriage! I think it’s safe to say that it exceeded my expectations – because frankly, I had none. I made a great choice and hoped for the best... and it worked! In the past year we’ve had personal successes and personal failures. We’ve laughed, cried and laughed some more. All in all, it’s been a really great twelve months.
When we were originally planning our wedding we had every intention on going to the great state of Massachusetts, the only state at the time to allow and recognize same-sex marriage. However, they had a residency loophole so we decided just to do our wedding our way and legalize it some other day. Just one short year later with Massachusetts no longer requiring residency we now have FOUR states that have marched into the 21st Century and are allowing and fully recognizing same-sex marriages. So... We flew into Boston a week ago last Friday and did the tourist thing for three days. After that we headed out to Cape Cod to hang with some friends and to get RE-Married on our anniversary.
In order to get married on our actual anniversary, we needed a waiver from a local courthouse excuse us from the three day requirement Massachusetts has for marriage licenses. As we walked up to the courthouse is a VERY small town called Barnstable on Cape Cod, I could feel just the slightest bit of nervousness. I am completely open and honest about my personal life, but I have spent most of my adult life in the South and I would NOT feel good about going into the courthouse in my county with my female partner and inquiring about a marriage license.
We walked in and were greeted by a female Deputy who appeared to be straight; she smiled and asked in a very heavy New England accent if we knew where we needed to be. I told her we were there to get a waiver for the marriage license. I thought she was going to come across the table and hug us both! She smiled and told us what floor we needed to be on and what we needed to ask for. She congratulated us and sent us on our way. In the court clerk’s office, we received the same response and had our waiver signed by the judge in less than 20 minutes. We proceeded to the Town Clerk's office in the town we planned to marry in and received an almost warmer response with the clerk offering up romantic spots for walks along the beach.
Lisa and I finished preparing for our "Re-Marriage" feeling a little surprised and also a little saddened. We were surprised that EVERYONE we came in contact with; male, female, old, young – they all gave us the same response – sincere congratulations and well wishes. At the same time we were saddened that there are 46 other states (our own home state included) that wouldn’t recognize our union and in most cases have and continue to adamantly fight against same-sex marriage.
With that, Wednesday, April 8th Lisa and I celebrated our first anniversary as a married couple saying our religious (and legal) vows with a UCC Pastor on a rock jetty in Provincetown Massachusetts. It was a lot colder on Cape Cod than it was last year in Key West but we made it through the year and now have a legal marriage license to prove it! Maybe on our second anniversary we will have recognition in our own state??
A girl can dream can’t she??
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Funny Face Pancakes
It’s never been a question of whether my daughter was going to attend college, she’s always known it was an expectation and she’s always wanted to go. She’s maintained that she wants to teach since about the third grade and that is still her goal. However, while looking at my third grader, with her braids and bruised shins, far more interested in softball and soccer than school - none of that really seemed like a reality. Driving nearly 200 miles from home last Thursday to her first college visit it all suddenly seemed very real. Very real.
We left our house at 6:30 AM. The campus tour didn’t begin until 11:00 but for those of you not living in Atlanta I-75 traffic can never be underestimated. We made it through the city without even a tap of the brakes, so we knew we’d be early. We stopped on the way down at an IHop for breakfast. When Allyssa was younger, she used to love the Funny Face Pancakes. We went in to the restaurant and she was still excited to order the Funny Face Pancake. Much to her dismay, they were on the children’s menu – for kids 12 and under. We talked about the unfairness of life in general and when the waitress came Allyssa ordered the regular Chocolate Chip Pancakes – but had “a small request.” “Can you please ask them to make it a Funny Face Pancake? I used to love ordering those, but they are on the kids menu.” I laughed and thought about how the lady must think the kid is crazy but then she turned to me and said, “It’s so nice to see a teenager who is still interested in being a kid.” As she turned and walked toward the kitchen I looked at Allyssa and agreed…. It is really nice.
After Allyssa’s carb overload at breakfast she promptly fell asleep in the car. As I drove in silence I realized how far away from home we were. In the physical sense, we were literally in the middle of the state and in the middle of nowhere. But in the general sense, I looked at my sleeping child and wondered where the time had gone. How on earth could I have a daughter old enough to be visiting colleges? I thought about how both our lives had changed so much in the last sixteen and a half years and how far away we were from where we had started.
We arrived in the small (VERY SMALL) college town about an hour before the tour was to start. Allyssa woke up in time to realize that we had left the city or any indication of a city in the IHop parking lot. We drove around the town to see where the important landmarks were. Target, Publix, the AT&T store, the mall… We found that all those places were thirty miles away. However, there was a Piggly Wiggly, (which is a very small grocery store) a Dollar General, CVS, Walgreens and a gas station. There were also the two token fast food restaurants right across the street from the college.
When we pulled into the parking space in front of the college, I looked around at the students and felt the lump in my throat. I closed my eyes and vowed not to start crying in front of her. We went to the information center and waited for the tour to start. We were joined by three other families and our group was led by a second year female student with an accent so thick I had to ask her to repeat herself, more than once. I looked around the campus at all the other kids. They didn’t look like my daughter. They looked older, smarter and more independent. I quickly (and sadly) realized those were things I wanted for my daughter, even though the realization stung just a tiny bit.
We learned about the schools history, the class sizes and campus life in general. We toured several of the buildings, a couple of cafeterias and one of the dorms. I learned that college kids eat a lot better than one would have thought and that unless you maintain a 3.0 you live in a co-ed dorm. I watched as Allyssa interacted and asked questions. I could see the excitement in her eyes when we toured the Drama building and looked in the theatre. My minds eye took me back to the days when she would beg me to come watch her performance of the Little Mermaid’s Under the Sea – but she didn’t know the words, so she sang it as, “I’m not a C.” Or when her very soulful (eyes closed and everything) rendition of Swing Low Sweet Chariot turned into Swing Low Sweet Cherries On. I thought of my nine year old quoting every line – voices included – to Dana Carvey’s Master of Disguise for what felt like days on end and how much I JUST WANTED IT TO STOP!!! I smiled to myself and wondered if I could get her to do just a couple of the lines again.
When the tour was over, we headed home, Allyssa grinning from ear to ear. She was very excited about the school, what it had to offer and the reality of the fact that in the fall of 2010, she’ll be a college student if not there, somewhere. I was genuinely happy for my daughter but as she went back to sleep somewhere around Macon, I went ahead and let the tears fall because while we have our good days and bad days just like every other family in America, not only do I really love that kid but I really like her a lot too!
We left our house at 6:30 AM. The campus tour didn’t begin until 11:00 but for those of you not living in Atlanta I-75 traffic can never be underestimated. We made it through the city without even a tap of the brakes, so we knew we’d be early. We stopped on the way down at an IHop for breakfast. When Allyssa was younger, she used to love the Funny Face Pancakes. We went in to the restaurant and she was still excited to order the Funny Face Pancake. Much to her dismay, they were on the children’s menu – for kids 12 and under. We talked about the unfairness of life in general and when the waitress came Allyssa ordered the regular Chocolate Chip Pancakes – but had “a small request.” “Can you please ask them to make it a Funny Face Pancake? I used to love ordering those, but they are on the kids menu.” I laughed and thought about how the lady must think the kid is crazy but then she turned to me and said, “It’s so nice to see a teenager who is still interested in being a kid.” As she turned and walked toward the kitchen I looked at Allyssa and agreed…. It is really nice.
After Allyssa’s carb overload at breakfast she promptly fell asleep in the car. As I drove in silence I realized how far away from home we were. In the physical sense, we were literally in the middle of the state and in the middle of nowhere. But in the general sense, I looked at my sleeping child and wondered where the time had gone. How on earth could I have a daughter old enough to be visiting colleges? I thought about how both our lives had changed so much in the last sixteen and a half years and how far away we were from where we had started.
We arrived in the small (VERY SMALL) college town about an hour before the tour was to start. Allyssa woke up in time to realize that we had left the city or any indication of a city in the IHop parking lot. We drove around the town to see where the important landmarks were. Target, Publix, the AT&T store, the mall… We found that all those places were thirty miles away. However, there was a Piggly Wiggly, (which is a very small grocery store) a Dollar General, CVS, Walgreens and a gas station. There were also the two token fast food restaurants right across the street from the college.
When we pulled into the parking space in front of the college, I looked around at the students and felt the lump in my throat. I closed my eyes and vowed not to start crying in front of her. We went to the information center and waited for the tour to start. We were joined by three other families and our group was led by a second year female student with an accent so thick I had to ask her to repeat herself, more than once. I looked around the campus at all the other kids. They didn’t look like my daughter. They looked older, smarter and more independent. I quickly (and sadly) realized those were things I wanted for my daughter, even though the realization stung just a tiny bit.
We learned about the schools history, the class sizes and campus life in general. We toured several of the buildings, a couple of cafeterias and one of the dorms. I learned that college kids eat a lot better than one would have thought and that unless you maintain a 3.0 you live in a co-ed dorm. I watched as Allyssa interacted and asked questions. I could see the excitement in her eyes when we toured the Drama building and looked in the theatre. My minds eye took me back to the days when she would beg me to come watch her performance of the Little Mermaid’s Under the Sea – but she didn’t know the words, so she sang it as, “I’m not a C.” Or when her very soulful (eyes closed and everything) rendition of Swing Low Sweet Chariot turned into Swing Low Sweet Cherries On. I thought of my nine year old quoting every line – voices included – to Dana Carvey’s Master of Disguise for what felt like days on end and how much I JUST WANTED IT TO STOP!!! I smiled to myself and wondered if I could get her to do just a couple of the lines again.
When the tour was over, we headed home, Allyssa grinning from ear to ear. She was very excited about the school, what it had to offer and the reality of the fact that in the fall of 2010, she’ll be a college student if not there, somewhere. I was genuinely happy for my daughter but as she went back to sleep somewhere around Macon, I went ahead and let the tears fall because while we have our good days and bad days just like every other family in America, not only do I really love that kid but I really like her a lot too!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Soooo??
Sooo.... it's been over a month since my last post and most of you already know, we are not pregnant. While I can almost actually HEAR the disappointment... it's okay... really. Admittedly, I was disappointed at first, but had some pretty good indications that I wasn't pregnant before the actual test. So I had about a week to get over it. We are getting prepared for another cycle. SO... keep your fingers crossed for us.
Separately, I am back on the Clomid! WOO HOO! (See post from December 19th.) Except THIS time - as luck would have it, I get to have an INCREASED dosage. Which let me tell you is EFFEN AWESOME! (I know sarcasm is hard to read in email... but if you DIDN'T get it... THAT was meant to be sarcastic.)
So this time (so far, I am only one day into the med cycle)
I've been a raging bitch, (although I could attribute that to another situation) I can't sleep, and when I actually WAS sleeping, I was having the most bizarre dreams that I am not sure that I wouldn't rather be awake. BUT the best part is I've been extremely tired since about four hours after my dose - which was at 9:00 Saturday morning. It's currently 2:00 on Sunday MORNING! Which really helps with the aggression factor.
All that to say this: No, we're not pregnant and PLEASE pray (or whatever you do) for me (AND my family's) sanity while we go on to day two of the Clomid.
Only three more days to go....
Separately, I am back on the Clomid! WOO HOO! (See post from December 19th.) Except THIS time - as luck would have it, I get to have an INCREASED dosage. Which let me tell you is EFFEN AWESOME! (I know sarcasm is hard to read in email... but if you DIDN'T get it... THAT was meant to be sarcastic.)
So this time (so far, I am only one day into the med cycle)
I've been a raging bitch, (although I could attribute that to another situation) I can't sleep, and when I actually WAS sleeping, I was having the most bizarre dreams that I am not sure that I wouldn't rather be awake. BUT the best part is I've been extremely tired since about four hours after my dose - which was at 9:00 Saturday morning. It's currently 2:00 on Sunday MORNING! Which really helps with the aggression factor.
All that to say this: No, we're not pregnant and PLEASE pray (or whatever you do) for me (AND my family's) sanity while we go on to day two of the Clomid.
Only three more days to go....
Monday, January 5, 2009
The Wait Is On
I’ve always wondered about the people that know the exact date their child / children were conceived. Are they so Type A that nothing can be spontaneous, are they working really hard at building a family or is their sex life THAT non-existent? I never really thought about the fact there is another sexless option, that is until we started going through our Quest for Baby Bailey.
Two weeks ago our journey took us to the final phase of our first cycle of treatment, the insemination. After countless vials of blood, multiple ultrasounds and hundreds of dollars, we were ready to inseminate. Since we made the decision to grow our family, I have had some pretty strong impressions of how things were going to go. Being a very traditional oldest child, Type A personality myself, I knew that every vision I had of the entire process would certainly be exactly the way things would go. I hadn’t thought much about the testing phases, or the drugs, but I had ideas about the insemination.
Surprisingly, (since I am a lesbian with friends who have become pregnant this way) I had NO real idea of how the actual insemination would be but in my minds eye it was going to be beautiful! I would wake up, get another smiley face on the little pink stick and call for the appointment. It would be a wonderfully warm day, the sun would be shining and all things in nature would be in perfect harmony as we walked into the fertility clinic. Hand in hand we’d laugh and joke about the names we discussed, visiting with other parents-to-be while we waited to be called back. The exam room would be warmer than usual and have a soft glow to it that I hadn’t noticed before. We’d briefly talk to the doctor and would lovingly look into each others eyes while the painless process was taking place. Anyone who has done it knows that is exactly how it goes, right??
Anyone who knows me knows I firmly believe that every single thing that happens in your life happens for a reason. I believe that there are lessons in everything and if you fail to learn the lesson, you’ll continue to encounter situations in which the lesson can be learned again. Knowing this, I have yet to wrap my head around this life lesson – Everything does not revolve around me AND things will not always happen the way that I think they should. (Regardless of the fact that my way is almost always the best way!!)
This is where I’ll stop. I’ve written and re-written this blog… and just didn’t really find anything interesting or amusing about the long drawn out version… so the short of it is this: The insemination was not what I expected it to be. It was raining outside, Lisa wasn’t able to join me, the room wasn’t warm and the procedure wasn’t painless. Hell, I was (hopefully) getting pregnant and they didn’t even dim the lights and turn on some music and let me tell you, for the amount of money, that (insert expletive here) should be included! Nevertheless, it’s done…. And now we wait.
Two weeks ago our journey took us to the final phase of our first cycle of treatment, the insemination. After countless vials of blood, multiple ultrasounds and hundreds of dollars, we were ready to inseminate. Since we made the decision to grow our family, I have had some pretty strong impressions of how things were going to go. Being a very traditional oldest child, Type A personality myself, I knew that every vision I had of the entire process would certainly be exactly the way things would go. I hadn’t thought much about the testing phases, or the drugs, but I had ideas about the insemination.
Surprisingly, (since I am a lesbian with friends who have become pregnant this way) I had NO real idea of how the actual insemination would be but in my minds eye it was going to be beautiful! I would wake up, get another smiley face on the little pink stick and call for the appointment. It would be a wonderfully warm day, the sun would be shining and all things in nature would be in perfect harmony as we walked into the fertility clinic. Hand in hand we’d laugh and joke about the names we discussed, visiting with other parents-to-be while we waited to be called back. The exam room would be warmer than usual and have a soft glow to it that I hadn’t noticed before. We’d briefly talk to the doctor and would lovingly look into each others eyes while the painless process was taking place. Anyone who has done it knows that is exactly how it goes, right??
Anyone who knows me knows I firmly believe that every single thing that happens in your life happens for a reason. I believe that there are lessons in everything and if you fail to learn the lesson, you’ll continue to encounter situations in which the lesson can be learned again. Knowing this, I have yet to wrap my head around this life lesson – Everything does not revolve around me AND things will not always happen the way that I think they should. (Regardless of the fact that my way is almost always the best way!!)
This is where I’ll stop. I’ve written and re-written this blog… and just didn’t really find anything interesting or amusing about the long drawn out version… so the short of it is this: The insemination was not what I expected it to be. It was raining outside, Lisa wasn’t able to join me, the room wasn’t warm and the procedure wasn’t painless. Hell, I was (hopefully) getting pregnant and they didn’t even dim the lights and turn on some music and let me tell you, for the amount of money, that (insert expletive here) should be included! Nevertheless, it’s done…. And now we wait.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The Process Continues
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….
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….
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.
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