Sharpie tattoos and a betadine belly

I took a 12 week Lamaze course when I was pregnant.  I was there to learn how to refuse medical intervention and manage labor pain without anesthesia.  I read two dozen books on ways to limit medical procedures during labor and delivery.  I wrote about 15 versions of my birth plan and talked to every single doctor in my practice (7) so they knew I wanted no intervention and no medication.  This was all for one reason: I wanted to avoid major, invasive surgery that is a cesarean section.

Little did I know, just one year later, I'd be gassed, cut open in 4 places, shoved around and stitched back together.

Five Below

I hate how people only ever use the word "balmy" in a sarcastic way in the wintertime. It ain't funny no more.

Going Gray

Life is pretty funny, in a completely non-funny way.  All my life I've been about as Pro-Life, Anti-Abortion as a person could possibly be.  Without, of course, being one of those crazies who holds up signs about God hating people.  In 6th grade CCD (c. 1991) I remember making a poster, with the Virgin Mary holding her Baby Jesus and the caption: What if Mary were Pro-Choice?  I got the award, BEST PRO-LIFE POSTER IN THE HARRISBURG DIOCESE that year. I've had more than my share of ethics debates, and I never wanted to consider the outliers, the anecdotes, "What if a pregnancy is non-viable?" "What if it threatens the health of the mother?" etc.   Those stories are just meant to confuse the black-and-white moral issue.  Even through my first pregnancy and birth of my baby, I proudly powered through as one staunch Pro-Life advocate.

But for some unknown reason, here I am, today.  Personally, medically, physically in this situation that occurs less than 1% of the time, facing the exact choice myself that I used to stick my fingers in my ears to ignore.  It's a no-brainer.  I'm thankful that there are drugs which can help me survive this situation.  Knowing there was never a baby, a heartbeat, a viable life in question.  It's been eye opening.

Work, between Christmas and New Year's Eve

Top 5 things people say:

1. It's really quiet - so I can finally get stuff done!

2. Perfect time to really focus and concentrate.

3. Not all of us have vacation days to spare.

4. Great time to write reports and clean out my desk.

5. I get more work done in these couple days than I do in a typical month!

Top 5 things people think:

1. I want to piss around and not do shit.

2. I'm saving my vacation days for an actual vacation.

3. More time at work = less time with in-laws.

4. I only take vacation when my boss doesn't.

5. I am getting away without doing a single fucking thing.

Weather

Everyone says, "This is the best time of the year!" Clutching their pumpkin spice lattes and walking to work in knee high boots and short sleeved shirts in mid September. Then the first 40F rain hits and the wind blows hard and those giant orange leaves actually start to cover the ground and it's dark outside by 5pm and all of a sudden everyone stops talking about those lattes. And you start to see people at work with scarves that have little to do with fashion and all the labor intensive hairdos get covered by oddly functional hats and you get to see what people's real faces look like without the distraction of jewelry and hairspray. We all look much more human. And a little more silly. That is why I love the fall.

Marriage Lesson 1 (TBL)

I always imagined that having someone love you as much as you loved them was bliss. And simple. And peaceful. And required minimal effort and you could both just blissfully exist.

I swear to God this is what I believed.

Turns out it's slightly different. Turns out it's still a charade of emotions and pushing back and tip-toeing and apologizing and losing your temper and freaking out and screaming and needing your personal time and hating him for being near you and hating not being alone so you make him go for a walk and then you start questioning what the hell you signed up for and scheming how you can change things back to the time when it was just you and you had as much alone time as you wanted, and even much, much more alone time than you wanted, which makes you realize that you kinda liked having this fellow around after all and maybe you don't want him to go for a walk.

And then Google Latitude comes in handy.

September 11

Yeah, I remember where I was. I was 16 days into my 21st birthday and going out every night. And I had this boyfriend who wasn't that into me, who never wanted to see me, so the best compromise we could agree on that semester was lunch every Tuesday, usually Burger King. So after class I walked to the Union only to see the second plane hit on TV, and I called him to see where we should meet for lunch.

"DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING?!" he asked me.

"Yes, I saw it on TV. Are we still meeting for lunch?"

… of course we weren't.

And I remember having difficulty feeling whatever it was I was supposed to feel at that time. And I went out to see my family one night that week and when I was driving back to college, all the people who lived in the farm houses were standing lined up by the road holding candles. And those people seemed to stretch the entire way back to campus. And I remember starting to feel something.