how two became three

We were on a road trip in Oregon over the holidays and decided to drive along the coast on the way to meet our friends in Bend. We stopped in this little town and went to a bar. The place was filled w/ old folks - 70's was the median age I think - and they were GETTING DOWN to the live jazz band in a way that I've never gotten down on any dance floor. I was riveted, romanced, idealistic and a bit drunk. Went back to our little hotel and made sweet love. I vaguely remember martinis and a white garter belt. Woke up in the AM and paused to tell J-Dog about a quaint little dream I'd had involving fireflies and one landing on my belly. Then hit the road for a week of yuletide debauchery.

3 weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I was on the pill. That fucking firefly dream rattling in my head. It had to have been that night. M was announcing her arrival even then.

Every wall I have ever built, leaned on, or tore down came crashing down around me while going up in front of me in industrial weight steel. I was NOT AT ALL PREPARED FOR THIS. I had just lost 15 pounds from some weird virus after our Asia trip. I was thin, dammit. I was getting a promotion, and we are heading to Cambodia in what would now be my 8th month of pregnancy.

And the truth behind the wall of bullshit was: I was paralyzed with terror at the thought of being fundamentally responsible for another human being. For the rest of my life.

After spending a decade around homeless families and their kids, I had all the ammo a woman needs to NEVER GIVE BIRTH. I've seen every shit situation, every screaming kid, every juvenile probation officer, and every worn out angry frustrated freaked out scared exhausted mom. I wanted no part of that. Not me. Nope. I am cool-i-o, people. Cool-i-o. My motto had always been there was no trouble I could get into that 12 hours and a UHaul couldn't fix.

Every time I saw a baby I cried. But being the guilt ridden girl I am, I had my mental breakdown while taking prenatal vitamins, while going to birthing class, while finding a doula, while singing to M (I knew she was M from the beginning, it's weird how such good stuff was mixed up in all the rest), while drinking milk and while not drinking beer. I did everything right, except honor the place I was in and allow myself to feel joy instead of fear.

There were magical moments, but honestly, I had a hell of a time, and all inside my own head. Well, except for the part about testing positive for Down's Syndrome. That part rocked. Free torment folks. Step right up. And all this meant J-Dog and I had a hell of a time too. He could not stand that I was so unhappy, so governed by fear. He was not used to this, he hadn't met this girl before. This ungrateful girl who could not see how goddamn lucky she was.

Then I kicked some primal earth mother ASS at the birth.

But afterwards, I struggled some more.

Pt. 3 coming soon.