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31 months

Posted on November 25, 2007

It’s been 31 months since I boarded a plane at Logan Inter­na­tional Air­port w/ 3 mas­sive suit­cases hold­ing all of my worldly pos­ses­sions. It’s been 26 months since I found out some alien was grow­ing in my tummy. It’s been 17 months since that alien raised her head and looked at me with dark inquis­i­tive eyes.

31 months ago I moved to Eng­land to be w/ my best friend. The friend that a few months ear­lier while I was over vis­it­ing asked me if I wanted to move over for ‘awhile’. AWHILE?? So he wanted me to give up my job and move to a dif­fer­ent coun­try for ‘awhile’. I told him sure I’d love to move over but it wouldn’t be for ‘awhile’. I asked him if he was cer­tain because once I was here I wouldn’t be going back. So I went back to the US and started mak­ing arrange­ments to head on over. We had GRAND plans– travel, drink­ing, travel and drink­ing, some more travel.

27 months ago I received a phone call from my mother. She had a dream that I was preg­nant. I laughed at her. I had just that very day got­ten my period. I had just that very day started my new job. NO WAY I was preg­nant. Wal and I were going out that night to cel­e­brate my becom­ing a con­tribut­ing mem­ber of soci­ety. Lots of drink­ing was done that night. Lots of laugh­ing. Life was good, it was exactly what I had hoped it would be when I boarded that plane. I was with my best friend and damn it was good.

26 months ago I ner­vously told Wal I had missed my period. 26 months ago I drove him to the air­port as he left for a 10 day busi­ness trip w/ his words ring­ing in my ears. He wanted to ‘take care of it’. We weren’t ready. I had just arrived. We weren’t mar­ried. Maybe I was just late. We would talk about it when he got back. 26 months ago I called my best friend Wendy and cried and cried and cried. I told her the line was very faint– maybe it was wrong. She laughed and explained if there was a line to be seen I was preg­nant. I explained to her Wals reac­tion. She reas­sured me that it was nor­mal. That he would come around. That it would be ok. So I sat in my empty house with this thing grow­ing in my tummy. Going to work with a ner­vous buzz– I think it was stress. 26 months ago Wal came back from his trip and we talked and talked. 26 months ago we decided that although the tim­ing was off, that we hoped we’d have a cou­ple of years enjoy­ing our­selves that what was done was done. Yippee, can you hear the joy in our voices? I called my mom and asked if she remem­bered call­ing me the month before and her telling me her dream. I explained to her that her dream had come true. She was pleased. She laughed and told me I should ALWAYS lis­ten to her– she knows every­thing! HA!

I suf­fered through 9 months of mild/moderate morn­ing sick­ness and abdom­i­nal pain– I have fibroids and I think Squidge was kick box­ing with them. 20 weeks into my preg­nancy I found out the sex of the baby. I called my mom and aunt Lil­iana and told them I was hav­ing a girl. My aunt Lil­iana started cry­ing– I started cry­ing– hor­mones. I suf­fered through 9 months of ‘dis­cus­sions’ with Wal– we couldn’t decided what to name ‘peanut’ ( I know how orig­i­nal). I thought we would come to blows– I wanted to beat the crap out of him w/ the near­est pil­low– hor­mones. I liked Isabella. He liked Iso­bel. I HATED Iso­bel and he HATED Isabella. Do you see the deep chasm between us grow­ing? Finally FINALLY 2 weeks before she was born we came to a name we both likedloved. I had seen a pro­gram on TV and a lit­tle girl named Esme. Wal was out of town and I sent him a text. Esme. His reply was– yes. I almost fell off the sofa. I called him and explained to him what I meant. He explained to me that yes he under­stood and he liked the name. WOW! Really?? Is that it?? After months and months of argu­ing we FINALLY found a name we both loved. Not one we were set­tling for. We had decided we both didn’t hate the name Saman­tha. Not a bad name but I didn’t want to set­tle on a name I didn’t hate. I wanted a name I loved. So peanut finally had a name.

17 months ago my mother arrived a week after my due date. I thought I’d surely have had Squidge by then! She was here for 7 days. 4 days into her stay and Squidge didn’t look like she was plan­ning on arriv­ing before vavo left. We booked in for an induc­tion and Squidge arrived dur­ing the world cup. She con­ve­niently arrived between games. My mom left 2 days later.

17 months ago I was left w/ the baby. I was the mother– WTF!! I have never wanted chil­dren. Or if I did think I wanted them they were a vague obscure want way out in the future. I was too busy doing what I did. Chil­dren were loud, demand­ing, cramped your style. I had had 9 months to con­vince myself that my life wouldn’t change all that much. We could still travel, drink, drink and travel. About 3 days after my mother left and Wal was at work I sat there breasts leak­ing, breath stink­ing hold­ing this being in my arms as she cried. She was hun­gry? No. She was wet? No. She was hot/cold? No. I didn’t know what I was doing. Wal didn’t know what he was doing. Poor Squidge I thought– we’re com­pletely incom­pe­tent. She was going to grow up a stunted, stu­pid, mal­nour­ished lit­tle thing. About 3 months into this mummy gig I real­ized that I was doing it. I was breast­feed­ing this lit­tle baby and she was still here. She wasn’t dead.

I was keep­ing her alive all.by.my.self. THAT was a mind blow­ing real­iza­tion. Silly but still mind blow­ing. Today Squidge is 17 months old. SEVENTEEN MONTHS! She has turned my life upside down. She has made me so much less self­ish. She makes my day when she looks at me and laughs when she farts– I absolutely love that!!! We don’t travel as much as we would like. I’ve had to read­just my per­cep­tion of myself. We get frus­trated and upset and still at times think we’re young (ppfff) and care­free. When­ever we feel like that Squidge will walk up to one of us and hug our neck. She’ll pull the lap­top off the coffee-table or she’ll head­butt us. She’ll take our half empty cup of tea and tip it over. Care­free has never felt so good. There are soo many things I’m look­ing for­ward to. Ski­ing w/ Squidge and bak­ing Christ­mas cook­ies w/ Squidge are just a cou­ple of them. She laughs and runs and cries and throws a tantrum and is a royal pain in the ass but we wouldn’t have any other way.

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