Story.

You know those old home movies? The ones on the reels that are so warped and faded that the sound comes and goes and pops every once in a while? The lines run across the screen and the faded brown shadows of days gone by flash across the screen.
That’s how I remember things, no matter how long ago they happened. My past is distorted, a pale outline of the very real story of my life.
I had a lovely childhood by all accounts. Good family, nice neightborhood, close friends. When I was in eighth grade, I found him. The man I knew I was going to marry someday. We dated through high school. We were THE couple. When we sent out invitations a few years after graduation, no one was all that surprised.
Our wedding was perfect. Every last detail was flawlessly orchestrated. It was both traditional and our very own. Everyone involved went out of their way to make this day as special as it could possibly be for us.
Our honeymoon consisted of a two week cruise to the Bahamas. After our time of relaxing in the sun and enjoying each other’s company, we settled down. We had bought a house on the outskirts of our hometown. We soon settled into our new life together; me working from home on my second book; and he a math teacher at the middle school where we first met.
We had only discussed kids once or twice. We both wanted some kids, but were willing to wait awhile. We were still so young, right out of college, and still had so much we wanted to do before we completely settled down. We never dreamed that there could ever be a problem.
Five years later. We’d been trying for at least three, if not four years to have a baby. Five doctors. Nothing was wrong. With him or with me. There was no medical reason that we couldn’t have a child. But we couldn’t.
You never know how much you really want something until something or someone comes along and removes all chance of it ever coming true. My want for a child turned to yearning. I would pray every night for a miracle. A chance. When none came, I lost faith in anything. In God, in myself, in life. There didn’t seem to be any point anymore.
I wanted to be a mother so badly. It consumed my days and nights. My best friend was scared to tell me that she was pregnant again. I tried to be happy for her. I was. Truly. But when I left that hospital room after meeting her new daughter, I felt hollowed out, exhausted with the cares and disappointments of life.
I slipped into depression eventually. I couldn’t understand why I was being punished. My great-aunt Lucy, a zealous Catholic, told me that I or that husband of mine must be hiding some sin. God sees all and will punish you for your disobedience. Must be a sign that you shouldn’t have married THAT man. I told you and everyone else that it would never work, it wasn’t right. But did you listen? No! And now you are paying for it! What are you hiding!?!
When I went to my mother with this, she just waved me away. You’re aunt’s crazy. Just ignore her.
But the crazy ranting of my aunt Lucy stuck in my head. I couldn’t sleep for weeks. She was in my dreams, every single one, cursing me to burn in hell for the sins which would now plague the family. I would wake up, screaming. He would comfort me and then turn to go back to sleep. In my horror and despair, I would pummel him with my fists, screaming and crying that he didn’t care about me. You never wanted a baby anyway! What was you doing to ruin our chances?
He would wrap his arms around me and try to calm me down. We would just lay there, me whimpering in his arms, gulping for air. This happened at least once a week for months. I went to therapy twice, and then made him promise he wouldn’t make me go back. I could get better on my own. He would see. He promised.
I did make progress. I cleaned the entire house one day, spring cleaning in July. I worked in the garden, hoping that the fresh air would clear my mind and calm my churning soul. I still felt dark, but pretending to be happy eventually makes you feel happy again.
My turning point came when I finally opened the door that led to my office. I was just going to dust a bit, and then go eat some lunch. I hadn’t touched my computer in months. My book was saved there, half finished, full of promise, potential. This could be what I needed to pull me out of my stupor.
I sat down on the swivel chair, took a deep breath, and booted up the computer. The startup screen came up. Finally the desktop showed up and I found my files on that story.
He found me four hours later, still in that chair, typing furiously. I didn’t look up, knowing that this feeling of release could not be interrupted. I knew he was watching me, but after a while, I didn’t pay attention to it anymore. I found myself living my story and not worried about the outside world.
The next thing I remember is the bonging of the grandfather clock in the living room. Midnight. I couldn’t believe it. I looked at the computer screen in disbelief. I had finished my book. I didn’t know what I had written. I didn’t know how long it was. I didn’t even care if it made sense. But I was done with it. I knew that I had poured my heart and soul into this book. I was free.
I saved my work and left it on the screen. Standing slowly, I stretched my sore legs and arms. Over twelve hours of straight typing. No breaks. I hadn’t needed them. I rubbed my eyes and padded slowly out the door, down the hall, and into the living room. He was sleeping on the couch. I sat down next to him, kissed him lightly on the cheek. He stirred slightly, saw me, and started to sit up. I smiled down at him and headed towards our bedroom.
I fell asleep almost instantly. I woke up when he sat on the edge of the bed. His face was clouded, like he wanted to cry, but didn’t want to upset me. It’s beautiful. He took my hand, and we both burst into tears. It had been a long time coming.
My publisher loved the book. He only made a few corrections, mostly grammatical errors on my part. But it was in print by that fall. I was ecstatic. This was my breakthrough.
That winter, I was doing some autographing in a little bookstore tucked away in the mall. People liked the “raw intensity” that my book brought out. I would just smile and nod and ask who the book was for. I really didn’t feel good and wanted to just go home. I signaled to the bookstore owner that I needed a break. She kindly stepped up to the table to make the announcement. As I stood to head towards the bathroom in the back, the world tilted to one side, then back to the other. I grabbed for the nearest bookcase, but didn’t make contact. As the carpeted floor got closer, I realized that there were people running towards me. I made an effort to put my arms out in front of me to break the fall. Pain shot up my arm and then I blacked out.
I came around slowly. He was there, holding my hand and soothing me. His eyes held a panic that I could not decipher. He seemed upset, but happy; worried, yet relieved.
The mall nurse was on my other side, taking my pulse and blood pressure. I insisted that I was fine, really, just hadn’t been sleeping well. She asked all the usual questions about what I ate today and if I have ever had a problem with fainting. Of course I hadn’t. She looked me in the eye and asked one of the most awful questions she could have asked at that moment.
Ma’am, are you pregnant?
Her words cut me deep; my heart seemed to shatter in a million tiny pieces, devastating my somewhat calm countenance. The floor gave way to a gaping hole in the earth, swallowed me up. I must have blacked out again because next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed. He was sleeping on the chair next to me. Just as I woke up, a nurse walked in with a man who must have been the doctor. He woke up and took my hand as the doctor looked at his clipboard.
He asked if he could talk to my husband outside for a moment. When they came back, he was very pale. A look passed between him and the doctor that I could not decipher. The doctor started talking. No real damage done. Besides your broken arm that is. The miscarriage did not damage anything else.
Miscarriage? Did he have the wrong room? I wasn’t even able to have children! His grip on my hand tightened. The doctor kept talking but I couldn’t hear a word. The room got smaller and smaller. Soon I was alone, screaming up at the stars in agony.
To be so close and not know! To be so close and then lose it! It might have been a blessing to not have known before the miscarriage. But for me, just the thought that there had been a life inside of me that I didn’t even get to marvel over, to plan for, to mourn. I felt that I did not have the right to mourn this loss, having not known about the possibility of loss in the first place.
I was home within the next couple days. Life started to go back to normal. Not many people knew the real reason for my five day hospitalization. Most people thought I had just collapsed and hit my head. My cast proved difficult to explain, as to others it seemed like such a small deal to fall and break an arm. But to me, every time I was asked, I had to relive that day. That nightmare of a day that had sent my world reeling. But that no one could ever understand.
I went back into my depression. But not so severe, at least to the outside observer. To people who did not know me so well, I was fine. Maybe not as chipper as always, but no one can be happy all the time right? To those who were closer to me, like my parents and husband, I had my moments where they thought they were back to last year. I would fly into a rage about the littlest things. A stupid mistake on my part could turn into a day of crying over nothing. My husband would come home to find that I had not showered, eaten, done anything that day. He would try to find the root of the issue. Most of the time it was something like stubbing my toe on the way into the bathroom. Or slopping a bit of milk on the floor while eating breakfast.
I tried writing sometimes, knowing that it had taken me out of my depression before. Nothing seemed to help. I started at least ten different stories in that four month period. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I had finally hit the dreaded brick wall.
Eleven months after my miscarriage, I passed out again. It scared me. But I didn’t get hurt this time. Still I couldn’t help but wonder if it was for the same reason. I didn’t tell him, but I went to the doctor and had some tests done.
I felt a new sense of hope welling up in me. I noticed things that I hadn’t for a long time. The way that the snow lay in drifts across the fields. The way the sun glistened off the day-old snow banks. The world seemed new, but I held back my joy, fearing that I was wrong, but hoping against hope that it could be true.
The day that the doctor called me back to his office, I was as nervous as that young girl in eighth grade about to get her first kiss. I felt so small and abandoned in that pediatric doctor’s office. The mother next to me was holding a baby that couldn’t have been more than seven months old, while keeping a mother-hen’s eye on a four year old across the room. She noticed me watching the baby held in her arms and asked if I wanted to hold him.
That moment, holding that tiny baby in my arms, I knew that I was pregnant. I knew that God would send me the precious gift that I had been longing for. Tears filled my eyes and ran down my face. I felt an arm around my shoulder. Soon I was pouring out my whole story to her, not caring that half the other mothers in the waiting room were listening. Not caring that I barely knew this woman.
The release I felt as I finished talking was enormous. Just then, the nurse came out and said that the doctor would see me. I asked her if I could make a phone call first. She told me to take my time. He was surprised to hear where I was. I asked if he could come quickly, it was important. He told me he’d be there as soon as he could.
The miracle of knowing that a life was growing inside of me was life changing. I was the most careful expectant mother in the world. I ate healthy, went to every checkup, and did everything the doctor said. I gathered immense amounts of information from the Internet and from various maternity books.
The day that Micah Ayden came into this world was one of the most memorable days of my life. I was exhausted, but I held that tiny bundle of joy, for truly this baby had given me back my life. I felt like I held the world, contained in that small child for a while. I wondered what was going on in his head, behind that croqueted blue and white hat that my mother had made.
Did he know what I had gone through for this day? Did he know that he was the miracle that I had been waiting for? Did he know that, through him, God had brought me back to where I was truly meant to be?
As I sit here writing this, a few days before Micah’s wedding, I can hardly believe how far we’ve come. From that little knit hat, to his first pair of Winnie the Pooh shoes, to his first bike, first car. His life has been a journey, a blessing for us all. But now I have to go fix dinner for the family, consisting of Micah and his five younger siblings. God has truly blessed my life.

catching up...

i woke up this morning with one of my headaches. so i decided that i would go back to sleep and possibly go into school a bit later. but...i didnt wake up again until 1:00 in the afternoon. there goes that idea. so with all this extra time on my hands i decided that i would update my blog, as it has been a long time since i last did so.

lets see...what has happened in my life?
on april 7th 2008 i officially became a brace-faced, tinseled-teethed girl. woot woot! i hadnt told anyone about them. i wanted it to be a shocking surprise. haha. i got them in the morning and then went back to school with them. the reactions were fun. my teeth didnt start to hurt until about 9 that night. i just popped some pills and went to bed. the next morning was awful but somehow i made it through. the following days were definately not too much fun. my tongue would get swollen from talking and singing so much because in the back it would rubbed against the bands on my back molars. i didnt cry over my braces until thursday night, which was the worst time. all day thursday i felt pretty good. i was like, "schweet! im getting used to these suckers!" well they just had to prove me wrong i guess. that night my whole mouth was just throbbing. i tried drinking hot chocolate and that helped...until it was gone...then the pain seemed worse. plus the wire that i have in right now is heat activated. so if i drink or eat something really hot or really cold, it tightens and i can feel it do so. not too fun. i then tried really cold water, with the same results. i probably overdosed on painkillers that night. but that was the first and only time i cried about the braces. the pain is impossible to describe unless you've gone through it. one of the only good thing about braces is that you have to eat more slowly. so that means by the time you're halfway through what you might ordinarily eat, you're full. so i've lost some weight. not too much. but a little bit. so braces have other uses than straightening teeth. =]

on april 9th, i went to gettysburg PA for my honors social studies trip. we're all becoming civil war buffs this year, as that is like ALL we study! haha. but it was fun and we have many...interesing pictures. =] my lunch was interesting...consisting of a yogurt smoothie, jello, and other such loverly foods. i saw my greatgreatgreat uncle or cousin or whatever he is to me. his statue(s) anyway. john reynolds, a famous civil war general who was killed by a sniper on the first day of gettysburg, is related to me somehow. excitement! that day was also a little eye opening on some other matters. one of which led me to lose my date for the ninth grade dance. not lose...give up? break off? well lets just say i told him that i didnt feel comfortable going with him to the dance anymore. so im now dateless...unless you count katie...*wiggles eyebrows* =DDD

thursday i had dress rehearsal for the talent show, which is this week if you'd like to come, and then my voice lesson. still getting used to my braces. i've been told that i make funny faces inbetween the verses of the song im singing...but thats not my fault!!! and mrs. black told me that she was "so sorry! but you know someday you'll be grateful that u have this wonderful smile! now lets sing!" haha gotta love mrs. black. =]

friday april 11th, i became a mother...to a african american, plastic, computer baby. micah ayden manthey. yay! my dad went into the hospital friday morning. but i didnt know that until i got home from school.

i decided to go to the dance with micah, hoping that i wouldnt regret my decision. the dance marathon was on friday and the cause that they supported was the american cancer society. the dance was longer than usual because of this and they had special guest speakers. mr. wade, who i got to know through Unclaimed carriages, is a survior of skin cancer. he was one of the speakers and quite a speaker he was. he had almost everyone crying. i dont remember when i started crying. but there i was, sitting there on the floor with a little baby, surrounded by at least 100 sweaty, smelly teenagers and teachers, and i started crying. i pretty much lost it. ashley held my hand and spechty was hugging me. im not one to cry all that often. i hold stuff in until i nearly burst. not a good habit i know. i hadnt really had a good day on friday, considering the braces and the how ninth grade dance deal. and i really felt like i needed to cry, but couldnt just make myself. i really needed that cry. after mr. wade finished, katie, emily, jordyn, amber, jt, and lots of others came over and we all started crying together. we had this little cluster of people and i am so grateful that they were there for me. i felt this enormous release. after that i was so much happier and lighter. i thank God for that night and im so glad that i went. i needed that and He knew that i also needed to be surrounded by the love of my best friends to go through that instead of being alone at home that night. the rest of the night was great. micah got passed around, having more dance offers then i did. =[ haha but i still had fun. he didnt cry until right at the end of the dance and then preceded to eat for the next 20 minutes at least as emily and i left the dance, found her mom, and headed home.

micah kept me up pretty much all night friday. my dog was really confused by this crying baby. it was amusing to watch. on saturday i went to bea's and had fun there. micah officially likes phantom. or at least he respected the fact that i love it and didnt cry through the three hours of the movie. good baby! we had fun spending the day together and went outside for a bit. we were limited in what we could do but took some nice pictures outside. then i went home to an empty house and was lonely. but then my mom and brother came home eventually. micah once again kept me up most of the night. he's a pig. then sunday morning, i had to drag myself out of bed and get ready for church. he didnt cry all through the sermon until the very end. you wouldnt believe the reactions i got from some people. most of the adults that came up to me thought that he was real. so many people did double takes and it made me laugh. also, it was the first time most people had seen me with my braces. many surprised faces. =] i received a jar of dirt from richard...long story. haha. then we headed home.

at four, (W)hoops started. im not much of a basketball player. and with a baby to take care of...it was interesting. i fell on my elbow at one point...made it all tingly for the longest time. i was scared that i hurt it. but its all good. micah only cried near the beginning. good baby once again. the teens were beaten by the parents by 2 points...boo hiss! but it was fun.

youth group was interesting...during free time before youth group actually started, micah got passed around some more...and threatened. some people had some AWFUL IDEAS about how they were going to torture my baby. evil evil people. =P it was singing night for youth group and micah slept through it. one of the songs brought some laughter and great memories back for some of the girls. behold he comes...riding on a cow....yeahhh great times. =DDD

micah slept through most of the lesson. near the end of it he started to cry. i chimed in and it was really loud! i was like oops sry! then he wanted to eat so i decided i could just sit there and feed him. but the noise that he makes when he eats is really really loud when there is only one person talking. so i headed to the back of the church where i could still here mr. k but was far enough away so that i didnt distract anyone. he finally finished eating and i went back and sat down. in less than 2 minutes he started fussing again. when he fusses that soon after eating, it usually means that he needs to be burped. usually. so i stood up to go back and burp him. as i got to the back of the sanctuary tho, he started to cry harder and i realized that he needed to have his diaper changed. megan looked back at just the right moment, saw the panic on my face, ((for i didnt want to go running back up there with a screaming plastic baby to get the diaper)) and came running after me to the bathroom, diaper in hand. i changed him and we calmly headed back out the the sanctuary. we sat down and got settled. THEN he started crying again! i was like *throws hands up in the air and exclaims in frustration* only i couldnt...cuz i was holding a baby. so i chimed him in which was really loud and must have, stupidly, told him to shush...which must have seemed rediculous to those around me and might explain the laughter i heard as i heard towards the back of the sanctuary to feed him again...

then the lesson was over and we had prayer, which micah slept through. good baby!!! after that, kristen, megan, and i headed out to find richard because he still had some surprises for me. one of which we found out was the peppermint tea that he'd been drinking all evening and some of which i had stolen. =] but then he said that megan and kristen couldnt be around to hear. so they skipped off singing "we're off to see the wizard" creating a more awkward atmosphere in their wake. richard, micah and i headed off to the kitchen where richard made more tea and asked me to his formal. =] i said i'd have to check my schedule. kristen had the hilarious idea of penciling in a full day on the day of the formal and then showing richard that i was terribly busy. haha. it was great. =P

i then went home, ate at 10 for the first time since 1 that afternoon, and eventually went to bed. micah kept waking up again and again and always wanted to eat! what a piggy!!! but at 4:30 i prayed that he would just shutup and i could get some sleep, as i had to wake up in about an hour to get ready for school. he did. yay! but then at 7am he "died". so that was the end of micah ayden. i then had to go to school, drop him off at the fcs room, put all the stuff away, and head to my locker. i was late for homeroom and everyone was like HOW WAS THE BABY! and i was like CANT YA TELL!??!?! i felt sooo tired all day. but the day went well and i finally made it home.

then today i woke up with an awful headache...lovely. but i think i really needed the sleep after this weekend.

so thats pretty much a recap of my life in the past two weeks. this has gotten pretty long...so i'll stop. but things coming up...thursday im singing at the talent show, friday im sleeping over at erica's, saturday im working at the youth group car wash fundraiser, and sunday is pretty much going to be my usual crazy sunday that i love! =]