I could have saved so much time for us, Had I seen the way to get to where I am today

I have been very negligent about keeping this blog current, though I have thought of a great deal of many things to write about in the last several weeks. Being that I don't want this to be solely dedicated to my pregnancy, I think it's high time to rewind a bit and tell the story of how I met my husband.

Our story isn't a short one to tell. And it's because of my doing - mostly. You know when people (and I have said this myself on occasion) say, "If only I could talk to a younger version of myself, things would have worked out smoother."? Well, when my life's path really started looking clearer, this is what I used to believe. Until I really thought about and knew that would be too much of a gimmie.

Scott and I have known each other pretty much since I graduated high school. He's four years older and went to the sister high school, so it was actually through mutual friends and our shared interest in stage work for the local theater group that brought us in the same circles. We would end up at the same gatherings, laugh over the same silly jokes and generally have a good time whenever around each other.

It wasn't until after he decided to join the Air Force when anything started coming to light. When he finished basic training, he made several calls to friends just to catch us up on how the experience had been going for him and I remember his phone call and the fact that we spoke for nearly 2 hours. His first base assignment was in Germany so we didn't see him for a long stretch of time. One of the first times he came back, we were having a huge party and after several different drinking games (and some help from the Captain), I found out that there had been a crush brewing. I was flattered, however I was in another relationship at the time and that was all that could be done at the time. This was 8 years ago.

Time passed and Germany changed to a hotter, sandier place in the Middle East. While he was stationed there, he and I emailed each other, mostly because both of us were so bored. Since the usual format of sharing what happened in our day to day was not really worth writing about, I started a format of asking a question concerning anything of his life and then waiting to hear the answer with a question from him at the end of his email. This exchange lasted through his time in the Middle East and his return to Germany. We covered many different subjects and really got to know each other. This lasted a better part of two years.

By the time 2004 rolled around, I was single and we decided it was time to try dating. Our dating consisted of a lot of phone dates, emailing, a couple of weddings and precious little time spent in the same time zone, but I remember having a wonderful courtship. Sadly, this came to an end when his assignment changed from North Dakota to Idaho, because I took that as a sign that timing wasn't on our side. This brings us to early 2006.

Even while we were no longer together, we kept a friendship and would see each other at several different weddings. I was dating a different guy, but all the while I knew in the back of my mind that Scott would always be special to me.

But it wasn't until early summer of 2009 that I realized that he was more than just a special past relationship. He was THE relationship. It took a little while longer, a break-up and a loss of a job in Tennessee for me to finally be free to have my long awaited chance with Scott, who had been patiently waiting for me all along.

It took us this long to finally have the relationship we were always meant to have. And even though we've experienced uneven pacing, neither one of us could be happier about where we are now. Finally together, expecting a baby daughter and incredibly, unbelievably happy.

When I was just a little girl I asked my mother, What will I be?

I have had several days to digest the latest news of Baby Blargh (yes, there is a reason why Scott and I have named our child this odd nickname, and we say it with the utmost affection.) We are going to have a baby girl.

We were at the radiology section of the hospital on base, early Monday morning, and there was one thing that Baby Blargh made evident: she will definitely be her mother's daughter. The ultrasound tech told us ahead of time that he would spend the first few minutes taking pictures silently and then would turn the monitor around to give us a show and tell. While Scott and I were waiting for him to do his job, we mumbled comments, suppressed the desire to giggle at the silly things we were saying and impatiently waited for the verdict. And waited. And waited.

After what seemed to be forever, and what was actually the healthy side of 10 minutes, the tech finally announced - the baby is flipped in such a way that he could not determine the gender. No matter what angle he was trying to aim for, the little one has stubbornly decided that it wasn't time for the reveal. He suggested that I go walk around for 10 minutes to try to coax Baby to move and flip around. So, Scott and I took a stroll back out to the parking lot to grab my water bottle all the while talking to the bump at my belly to gently ask Baby Blargh to cooperate.

On the second try, though not right away, was when the Baby finally decided it was time. There was what seemed to be a tiny bit of a power trip the tech was having fun with when he asked, "Do you have any idea what you are having?", "What are you hoping for?", "Are you sure you don't have a preference?", as if he had the ability to change our order if we didn't like his findings, but we forgave him of his job's joy and took the news of a baby girl with smiles. And then the thoughts started rushing at me - and I'm fairly certain this is the first 2 seconds, in order:

• changing diapers will be easier than if we had a boy
• we won't have to make a decision about circumcision
• I'll be able to take my sister's offer of her daughters' baby clothes
• I better get my research mode going so that I can find the best ways to raise a confident girl who can handle the mean girls in school.

I know I am a worrier by nature, but that last point is rooted in personal history. Because of a group of mean girls in the later years of elementary school (and some instances here and there in subsequent years) I'm afraid I never quite recovered from their senseless cruelty and have been super-cautious about making female friends. Luckily, I've been able to make and keep some girlfriends from my high school years, but overall, it's been a struggle. I haven't been completely emotionally stunted, but it has been a confidence issue for me and it takes me a while to trust my ability in making female friends. (I keep stressing "female" because I have been largely successful with making male friends.)

There are any number of situations and concerns Scott and I will face as parents before we ever have to broach this point in our daughter's development, and I know that I have to learn to take things in small chunks. We are so very excited and are eagerly anticipating Little Girl's arrival. And in the meanwhile, I'll be slowly clearing out her future room and will be keeping my eyes open for alternative-to-pink clothing so that Baby Girl won't always look like a marshmallow Peep.

That's what you get when you confuse your stomach with your heart

As mentioned in my previous post, I had grand intentions of what I would write about in my first blog back after a long absence. And yet, as a pregnant lady, all I can think about in the wee hours of the morning is food.

I enjoy cooking, but only when I have people to cook for. I'm horribly lazy when it comes to cooking just for myself. Dinner is the biggest meal I put effort into preparing since I have Scott to take into account, and I know I can argue that technically, I am cooking for me plus the Baby, but my brain is somehow missing that connection. Don't get me wrong, I am eating and keeping the Baby and myself well nourished; I'm just not doing it with very much enthusiasm.

So all of this laziness and forced munching is making me very wistful for the food establishments I knew in the towns I lived in before I moved here to Mountain Home. It's a nice little town, but it lacks in most of the prepared food comforts I had taken advantage of in the past.

In Johnson City, I became pretty addicted to Jason's Deli, where I could have the most delicious French Dip (or what they called a Beefeater sandwich.) I used to live within 2 miles of a Five Guys burger joint, whereas now I have to travel the 45 minutes to Boise to track down those fabulous, greasy burgers and fries. And, there was a Chick-Fil-A in easy access for grabbing waffle fries.

And from my old stomping grounds in Jersey, the baked ziti, good chinese food, good pizza and the bagels (though I suppose I have to skip the lox until after the baby is born) is what I miss more than the people I left behind.

I get by with what is around in this area and I have been eating healthier, but when I wake up in the middle of the night, the food is what is in the forefront of my pregnant lady mind.

Please standy by...

Because it's been many months since I last blogged about anything, I was going to dedicate my first entry back to explaining all that has changed. And believe me, there has been A LOT that has altered since the spring.

I was going to give the background needed to explain why my romantic life seems to be like a whirlwind, when if fact, this love story has been a long time coming and everything is just now falling into place.

I was going to write about the excitement and apprehension I feel about becoming a mother. And the fact that my sudden and conscious abstinence from caffeine has left me feeling bizarre and out of sorts.

I was going to get into my thoughts about my new surroundings and the relief I feel about the prospect of being in one place for longer than a year.

However, all of this will have to come at a later time. Right now it's about 5:30 in the morning and I feel I need to be a bit more eloquent to give justice to any of the aforementioned topics.

I hope you have the patience (and the desire) to come back for these stories. They are pretty good ones.

Is it all in that pretty little head of yours? What goes on in that place in the dark?

The clock struck 3am just a little while ago, and I am still wide awake.

I am laying here awake and desperate for sleep- not just because of the racing mind that won't stop worrying or planning or trying to scheme ways out of issues for myself and others whom I love; not just because my back is emitting a dull ache that has prevented me from finding a comfortable position; not just because I am tremendously anxious about how I am going to transition to my next phase. No, it's not any one or any combination of all of the above. It's the ever-frustrating unknown - the "Nothing" that ripped through the movie "Neverending Story", though in that case it was a lack of imagination that was the culprit when in my case it's the never-ending imagination of the terrible what-if's.

In my upbringing through the church and my short stint of being a Sunday School teacher myself, I know Philippians 4:4-7. "Do not be anxious about anything but in everything, with thanksgiving, bring your requests to God..." (ignore any accidental punctuation errors or paraphrasing- I'm not attempting to revise the Bible, I just don't feel up to looking it up and writing down the exact verses.)

So, here's where things go sideways. In one answer to prayer, my time here in TN was cut short and I have a clearer idea of my departure time. But it was at the cost of job. For those who want to kindly tell me that it's a blessing in disguise or anything about God shutting doors and opening windows, please put a sock in it. It's boring and impersonal. You might as well have Bobby tell me to "don't worry be happy." Sorry for the rudeness there.

In another answer to prayer, my father was finally given a "yes" to a job application and it looks like the opportunity will be not only good for the short term, but may turn into a wonderful long term deal. Great! However, just days after he got a job, my brother lost his. This may end up helping him as it did me, but there is still the painful 'nothing' that ebbs away at confidence, finances and worst of all, faith.

I thought that for a while I could just try to figure out my path without having to widen my scope. There are some that say that this is still my right to just put on blinders and forge ahead without taking on these other issues, but that's simply not an option. For those who know me, they accept this; for those who don't, they try to indicate me that my efforts are wasted if I'm not just concentrating on my own life.

One day soon I will be able to whittle things down so that I can take the time to marvel at my own story unfolding. I don't have all my faith or confidence depleted, but it is getting a bit harder to find places to put one foot in front of the other.

Coping skills

Anne Shirley: Can't you even IMAGINE you're in the depths of despair?
Marilla Cuthbert: No I cannot. To despair is to turn your back on God.


Even though I read not too long ago that the unemployment rate has been dropping from 10% to some fraction in the 9%, I was put there in the ranks of the jobless. A couple days ago I was laid off from my job. And I reacted the way I usually react to bad news or any sudden change. I tried to controll whatever I could.

I went straight to my part time retail job and explained the situation to my managers and changed my hours. Since I'm now more available, I'm taking steps to take advantage of that. I needed a new computer since I don't know if I can successfully re-install my wireless card into my tower without breaking anything. So, I asked for help on the research for the spec's and I was lovingly taken care of with acquiring my new laptop. (Big props must also be given to Molly of the Johnson City Best Buy who spent a better part of an hour working out a way I can walk out of the door with the purchase.)

Of course, I am going through all emotional swings one might go through. Moving to Tennesse has proved to be ... character building. At 32, I thought I was mostly through with 'finding myself', but like any piece of furniture you try to put together, sometimes you have to go through the painful disassemble to rebuild a part to make things stronger or prettier or more functional.

Even before the shock of a couple days ago, I had been contemplating the people in my life. The people whom I have and will continue to love and who will continue to love me back. I have been a part of intensly beautiful relationships of all stages and levels. And that love and support from all I can count on, emotionally, spiritually and physically, is what is going to help me find where I'm going.

The silly things we do to ourselves

One of the songs that comes up on my Christmas station (Pandora) is “The River.” Usually sung by Joni Mitchell, but it comes up a couple times since several people have covered it (one of my favorites being Robert Downey Jr.)

But every single time it comes up, wherever I am, it makes me sad. Sometimes near tears and even fewer times does it actually succeed in making me cry. About 10 min ago, there was success.

I just suddenly started recounting everything of this past year. From last Christmas when I was sad and crying my eyes out from being away from family and missing Christmas to the events of my last couple of months.

I sat there and I listened to the whole song without skipping it. Whenever I do that, I call it my lyrical cutting. I do it just to feel that emotion out until I can get past it.

It normally doesn't plague me for too long and I do calm down and breathe through it. But, man, it's hard sometimes.