Friday, September 30, 2005

Morning After...

So when I last left you, let's see. I was or was not dating Bobby. Oh yea, we broke up. So the next couple of months were a blur of morning sickness, and skipping school as often as possible. I remember that during my sophomore year, I skipped school so much that when I DID show up, people I had known my entire life would just stare at me like I was a total stranger. I basically dropped all my friends and went into my little shell of denial.

My brother graduated in June from high school, so my mother planned a little party, and my Dad came to town along with other assorted relatives that I almost never see. But that time I was about 5 or 6 months along, and all my relatives must have known, because their eyes popped out when they saw me. I remember going to award ceremony with my mother the night before graduation (cause my brother was a total overachiever!) and watching all the seniors getting the awards and scholarships, and thinking, "Dear God, get me outta of this town!"

So as the summer bore along, I finally broke down and told my mother in late June that I was pregnant. Her first words? "What will all MY friends say?!?!?" Ah Mommy Dearest.... She was worried about what HER friends would think.. haha

So she told me that I needed to call the father, (Something about having them help pay for this mess, I believe). So I did, I talked to his mother(She's nice, but looked like Cruella from 101 Dalmations back then!) and she gave me the usual line, "Oh he's not at home right now." So rather forcfully I said, "Well you better get him home, because I'm going to have his baby, and we need to talk."


And he asked the old standard question girls always love to hear whenever they tell someone that they're pregnant. "Is it mine?" For the first time in my life I went totally bitch on him, and said a couple of really not nice things to him..

My mother got me an appt with her GYN and we went to the appt. He took one look at me and said, "I'm afraid little sister is pregnant." and ordered an x-ray. So we ran over to the x-ray place, and got an x-ray done. They put it in an envelope and handed it to us. When we got outside, Mother pulled the x-ray out and held it up to the sun. And the SHE was!!

There was a picture of the MOST PERFECT CHILD ever conceived!!! One perfect child, IN MY STOMACH!!! Sweet little head down, tiny hands tucked under her chin, long legs crossed and tucked up to her tummy. My life changed that instant. I was momentarily blown away, I couldn't believe that something so AMAZING could be growing in me, right under my broken heart!!

My mother kept that x-ray hidden in her closet for years. I think as a reminder of what she thought that she had done for me. I, in a fit of rage, burnt the x-ray years later, when she had pissed me off about something..I so wished that I still had that, it was perfect....

The next couple of weeks were a blur of an aborted abortion attempt, and a short vacation to Tybee Island, where I did alot of watching the ocean and thinking about the future.. and my Mother finding a place to fix me or "hide" me.

My mom's first thought was, "Hell, she'll get an abortion!" So she took me to a "hospital" in Atlanta. Well, the sign said "Hospital" but it was just an old house that was an abortion clinic. When we got to the waiting room, there were about 60 people there, all waiting to get abortions. Some of them were chained to the chairs with police guarding them. I about died, when I saw that place!!! The place was old, and dirty and reeked of urine and cigarette smoke. But Mother just smiled and we found a seat and we waited for our turn.

So after waiting, and trying not to make any eye contact with any woman who might slit my throat, my turn was called. I went to the back and was introduced to a nice Doctor named, I shit you not!!, Dr. Hook!!!! and she had about 3 inch long bright red painted fingernails!!! I lost it... I freaked out and started hyperventelating, turning all shades of blue and red... She was nice, held my hand and looked at my x-ray. She said that I was probably too far along to have a regular abortion then proceeded to tell me about the "other" way they do abortions.

"Not a big deal, really".. but did require an overnight visit in the "hospital". First they take a needle filled with saline solution and shoot it into the baby. This slowly (and painfully- I bet) kills the baby. Then they open your cervix, and smack the baby in the head to crush the skull, so it will come out easier. Once all this is complete, then they induce labor, and let you hang out at the "hospital" and have the baby during the night. Although this sounded like "great fun", I continued to freak out. She then told me that I was probably so far along that I couldn't have this kind of abortion either. (Do you get the feeling that she was trying to "work" with me?)

After she promised me that she wouldn't harm the baby in anyway, I let her examine me. She then confirmed that I couldn't have an abortion of any kind, and went out to tell my mother. When we left that place, I was smiling ear to ear, and my mother was freaking out and bitching about needing a drink...

The next week, we made an appt with DFCS. We then met with a super nice lady at Dept of Family and Children Services. Her name was Harriet Wadkins. She was so comforting, she never judged, she was always sympathetic and constantly told me to call her anytime I just wanted to talk. My mother had told Harriet that she needed to find a place that would keep me til the baby came, help find a find a home for the baby, and not cost my mother anything (Since she was "so sweetly" giving (selling) them a baby! - Be-aytch!) So Harriet found a place in Chattanooga called The Florence Crittenton Home.

Harriet was also finding a set of prospective parents who would adopt the baby. The cool thing is that she was interviewing these people, then telling me very generic details about who they were, and what they were like, and ASKING my opinion on whether I thought they'd be the right parents for my baby!!! This was awesome!!! Ssomeone was finally asking MY opinion of what I THOUGHT was best. I almost couldn't believe it!! I think that she was sent from heaven now..

Florence Crittenton house was a house for pregnant girls and run away girls. By runaway girls, I mean girls who were either so bad or damamged that they couldn't live at home or in foster care. It was situtated in a old mansion near an industrial park. So it was gated like a fortress. It was a nice place although really old, but you couldn't really go outside the gates too very much or you'd get mugged. So we packed our bags and my mother dropped me off there.

Ok, before I go on, yes my mother was a bitch about everything, but on the other-hand she was also totally overwhelmed. She was a single mother with 3 kids, almost no child support from my Dad (or help), and she had a drinking problem. Here I was, 15, in school, got my self knocked up by one of her friend's child, totally helpless about that whole thing, and ofcourse with no help or support from the father of MY child. (He ran away and joined the Air Force after I told him. Was later kicked out for being a puss during boot camp.)

So my mother left me there, and I was put up on the 3rd floor with 3 other girls in my room. There were all pregnant like me. Once of the girls, Christy, later, who became my best buddy there, was only 13. She lived in Atlanta, and had gotten pregnant by her neighbor (I think that they call that molestation now!). Then there was Abigail, who was 12 and pregnant. She said that a distant family member had done the deed, but I kept getting hints that it was her father.. Poor thing. I can't quite remember the other 2 girls.

But there was other people there that I do remember, like the lady who was almost 30 and living there while pregnant. By the time of her Due Date, she had convinced herself that she would keep the baby and raise it by herself. Unfortunately she delivered during my time there, and the baby, a little boy, was born with the cord wrapped around his neck and died. That was devastating for everyone there.

Then there was the DJ who was in her 20's, living there and pregnant. She worked at a hip-hop radio station, and mostly kept to herself. She seemed to always be crocheting a mint green baby blanket. Just staring off into space and crocheting, crocheting. Whenever she smiled, she would just smile with far away eyes.. She was kicked out before the baby came. I think that she got back together with her boyfriend. (Her Baby Daddy!)

The there were that run aways that lived there. Or the throw aways as I like to think. One girl, named Patty, was just as sweet, sad, and loving as she could be. Her mother has been gone so long that Patty couldn't remember anything about her. Patty had been bounced from foster home to foster home to foster home. She was just so sweet, and meek and lost. She'd just hug on you, and hold your hand and try to make you love her... She was only 12.

Then there were the 2 sisters. They were bitches, but crazy mean bitches!! One was named Sue and the other was Serone, I think. They were like 13 and 15, both had children at home, making their poor mother raise 'em, and were at this home. They once gained up on me and tried to tell me how sorry I was for giving my baby away. I told them something like, "Me?!?! Who the hell is raising your babies? If you were such good mothers, why are you here? Is it better to raise children you can't provide for who will grow up and be just like you?" They didn't say to much to me after that. Later I saw one of them jump on one of the home counselers and slap the shit out of the poor lady. I have to say that the lady probably deserved it. She was one smug bitch.

There was a girl there who was about 15, can't remember her name, but she LOVED the truck drivers!! She dissappeared every now and then, or snuck out to meet and boink truck drivers. She'd always come back with a handful of pills for everyone.

Meh, before you freak out and convince yourself that you are a crack baby, I only took one "speckled bird!!"

Even though I was there to have a baby, I did manage to bond with many of the girls and other people there. Like Joy, a girl from my hometown, who had been raped and came there to have her baby and give it up. The Nurse, who was built like a line-backer with the meanest face I ever saw, but she just happened to be the sweetest person I had ever met and she could light up the room when she smiled. The house mother's who stayed with us at night.

Some were friendly, some kept to themselves. One of them was the single mother of 2 boys, and she would come into our rooms, and set on the floor like a teenager, and we'd talk long into the night about highschool, boys, and our dreams. She never asked us how we'd gotten there, and never judged. Or the "Super Fly" middle aged single lady with the rocking afro! I had to go down to her room one night after lights out and wake her up to check on a sick girl. Her "rocking" afro was setting on her dresser and she had her little bald head wrapped in a stocking cap.


Also some of the funny things there were when we went on outings. People would see about 15 pregnant teenagers get out of a van holding their backs and rubbing their big bellys... and their eyes would bulge out. Once time a guy, with his wife, was so rudely staring that I just looked at him and said, "Don't worry, we're not blaming you,,,this time!!" He started laughing and he and his wife asked all kinds of funny questions.

Let's see, I got to go to a "Mother's Finest/38 Special" concert. My 1st rock concert every,,, WAHOO!! Saw Hank Williams Jr's drunk ass about fall off stage. Saw Sara Vaughn in concert, she just blew me away. Saw and fell madly in love with Don "Bye Bye Miss American Pie" McClean's music.

Being there was like having 30 sisters. We were all in a jam together and learned to watch out for each other. Whenever someone would have a traumatic event, like a visit from a boyfriend or parent, or whenever someone was in trouble, we had their back.

I later moved to the 9th month room, which was the only room in the house that you could sneak out of the windows. Alomst every night girls would dress up in thier slut-clothes (Mostly the non-pregnant ones!) slap on tons of make-up, and slap their heels over the shoulders and make a mad dash out the window. Now to "escape" you had to go out the window, OVER MY BED, crawl down the roof of the car port, then climb down the fire escape. I never left, I was afraid I'd slide down the roof, fall and split open like a watermelon!!

Then after the night of "passion" was over, it was back up the escape, crawl UP the roof, rap rap on the window, and back to bed. I got no sleep in that room!! It was so hiliarious. They'd take off looking all suave, and come back with hickies all over their necks, make up smeared, their hair all smooshed up, and amazing tales of their adventures...

Also while I was there, Lady Diana married her Prince Charles. All the girls were glued to the TV's, watching every perfect detail of the events leading up to the wedding, and finally the wedding. We all wished that our princes would come and save us from our dreary existance!! Ofcourse all the days went by, and my tummy got bigger and bigger...the time that I had been looking toward FINALLY CAME TO PASS...

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Then there was Bobby....

Why am I talking about stuff that happened 25 yrs ago? I have no clue... I think it's just that I think about that Robert Frost poem alot about the Fork in the Road...

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

I am so thankful of the path that I have taken in life, but I do wonder about where I'd be today if I had made other choices 25 years ago. Here's a little bit more of my look back on time...

So after darling "Zitty Man" and I stopped seeing each other, I had went to church with a girl who lived in my neighborhood. She was a freak! Her parents were even freakier! The whole family reminded me of "Married with Children". I loved being there!! Her grandad had a wrestling bear, or a "wrasslin' bear" as I recall him saying.. So she and I went to her church one winter evening, and while there I saw a guy I knew was a friend of my cousin Ricky. His name was Bobby. My cousin lived the next town away and went to another school. Farimount High - Home of the Bulldogs!!! Bobby also went to Farimount. He had just graduated when I met him. My cousin had told me that he was a "nice guy".

Anyway, I saw him there, and we chatted a little. He was 19 at the time, I was 15. Now before I tell you anymore, there were 2 classes of people in the town I grew up in. Not the Upper Class, and Middle Class, but the "I can't wait to graduate and get married and work at a carpet mill, and have lots a kids asap!" class and the "I can't wait til graduation, so I can get the hell outta of this freaking place!" class.

Bobby was the former, I was the latter. Bobby was 1 of 4 boys. He was Boy #3. He was the baby until he was about 10, then his parents had another little boy and commenced to spoiling that one rotten. Both Bobby's older brother's were already married and out of the house. Bobby's house was a little crazy and messy and just always full of love and life. His brother's were always visiting with the wives and kids. Or he had assorted relatives around, and it seemed that his mom was always cooking loads and loads of food. It was the home, I never had!! Full of love, and excitement. (Not that I had a horrible home life, just kind of boring and ruled.)

So after seeing Bobby at church, we chatted a little and decided that it's be cool to meet up the next weekend and go caroling with the church. (Caroling - so hokie!!) So we met up the next weekend, and went with about a group of 10 or so and caroled at other church member's houses. After that time, Bobby and I became rather exclusive. Right after Christmas, I suspected that I might be pregnant. I kept the secret to myself for the longest time. I knew who the father was because at that time, I had only been with one person.

Once it became clear that I was pregnant, I thought that this was something that I needed to tell the "father/perpetrator" in person. So I called him, and called him, and freaking called him. He never answered or called back. After awhile I just gave up. Bobby suspected that something was up because I was practically outta of my mind with fear. After about a month of begging and prodding, Bobby began to suspect that I wanted to break it off with him. I didn't...I just didn't think that we were close enough to each other for me to share this with. Heck, I was going out and having the best fun with Bobby. He was my buddy, took me places, treated my like a queen. I thought that if I told him the news, that he'd run like hell, like any normal boy would! Like the father had. (I think he suspected, even though I hadn't told him.)

So one evening after hours of talking, and arguing about why I was so bitchy.. I came out with the truth to Bobby. I said something along the lines of , "Remember that guy, I told you about? Well, I'm going to have a baby, and it's his."

Bobby (Classic Bobby...) didn't miss a beat, didn't bat an eyelash. He just grabbed my hands and said, "I will marry you, and we will raise this child as our own, and no one will ever have to know."

I was in shock, and I was amazed. I told him that I needed to think on it. When you are damaged, you naturally assume that anyone who could love you must also be damaged. This is what I believed about Bobby. How could someone love me? I'm dirty, bad and no good!! AND I'm pregnant for God's sake!!!

Later when the offer was made again, I told him that we would just wait and see. As the months went by, I convinced myself that I did love Bobby and that we should get married. I later gave myself to him, thinking that I could love him thru sex. I did love him, but not enough to marry him and have him raise a child that was not his.

I later broke up with Bobby as my belly began to swell and he began to force the marriage issue more and more. I really loved Bobby, he treated me like I was sacred. I think that he worshipped me way too much.

After the baby (You- Meh!) was born, I later dated Bobby again. I told him all about what had happened during the months we were apart, and about the baby. He never condemned me, or made me feel bad about the choice that I had made. He just took my hands again, and said, "We'll get married."

As time went by, and we dated, I hated myself for the decision that I had made concerning the baby, and the big secret that I was keeping from the world. I felt like I wanted to die, and wasn't worthy of living. If ever I was close to killing myself, this was the time. Bobby loved me anyway, he never judged or questioned my decision. I gradaully convinced myself that Bobby must be crazy to love someone as flawed as me and began to find fault with him. I picked and picked at every little imagined flaw that he had. I eventually broke up with him, before he could come to his senses and break up with me!!

Very soon after, he married a girl he knew from his school and they immediately started having kids of their own. Last I had heard, the were still happily married with boys of their own. I hope their house is a little crazy and messy and just always full of love and life...

The world is a better place thanks to men like him..

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

How I met your father....

So will be 25 years ago this fall that I met Meh's father, biological father, sperm donor,the Zitty Man, etc...etc..

How did it all start? Oh I remember it so well. I was only in 10th grade and homecoming was on the way. For some strange reason, I had decided that I wanted to participate in high school activities, after a year of standing on the side lines...

Yes, it was homecoming, and the theme for 1980's homecoming was "Popular Music", so our class decided to go with the song "Lonesome Loser" - "Have you heard about the lonesome loser?" So our float for the "big parade" was to feature the mascot of the opposing team playing cards...alone (So original). This meant lots of chicken wire and about a million paper napkins!!

So I caught a ride to the armory, which is where each grade was building their floats for the big day, and started stuffing napkins in the frame of the float. All of a sudden, I feel a light tap tap tap on my shoulder, so I slowly turn my head, so that I wouldn't mess up my carefully coiffed feathered bangs, and looked behind me.

And there he was... in. all. his. glory. Short, pimply, with permed hair,in the 11th grade AND with a CAR!!!!! He was part of the cool, rich boy, stoner crowd, so naturally my mouth about hit the floor to see him at an after-school event. Once, I regained my composure, I gave him a little toss of the hair, and smiled. He asked me if I had plans that weekend. Did I have plans?!?! Hell it was only homecoming week, and I had no frigging date to the dance! Did I have plans, you ask?!?! "I shyly smiled and said, "Um no, why?" (Naturally thinking that he'd taken notice of my perfect Farrah Fawcett hair-do and perky little boobies and wanted to take me to the dance! (Because hell, that was my crowd, the geeky going to the school dance crowd!!)

He just said, "Cool, wanna go out this weekend?" So I (a little disappointed) said, "Sure, what did you have in mind?" (taking me to the dance, perhaps?) he said that we'd just figure it out when the time came.

Well ,the weekend came, and I wanted to go to the homecoming game atleast, so we decided that we'd move our little date to Saturday. I went to the game, with my boring (non potsmoking) friends, and he hung out (God knows where) with his druggie crew. I don't remember where we went or how the date ended, but I do remember that he was sweet, we kissed, and that I liked him very much. He introduced me to pot that night.. We also drank a little beer, but I had never been much of a drinker, so I didn't get wasted. (It used to be SO EASY to buy beer back then!!)

The weekend before, I had had a date with a "much older guy" of 19 who had his head on straight, a full time job, (aka looking for a mommy for his youngins) and had pinned me down to the front seat of his Buick and tried for dear life to get me outta of my pants. (Think God for those tight pants of the '80's) The older guy wasn't too awfully rude about it when I said, "No way." but I just knew when he dropped me off that that would be the last time I ever saw him. It was our 1st and last date, ever.

So back to the 11th grader. The first date turned into holding hands and kissing (total PDA) at school the next week, long phone conversations, and promises of other dates. So, soon after, we decide to "move it up to the next level". Yet again we go out, he drops me off at the crucial 11pm curfew, and we discover that we have the house. all. to . ourselves....... So one thing leads to another, and we are in bed together. he had already told me that he had already had sex, so I thought he was a pro. Only he was terrible. I had no clue what I was doing, but hell I had read some romance novels... (Funny thing, I didn't know that you were suppose to hold you legs up when you were having sex, I thought that they were suppose to be plastered to the bed, so he had to tell me, "Hey, you are suppose to lift you legs up a little." So stupid!)

When it was all over with, he confessed that he was a virgin, and asked me if I was. I told him, "Duh! Yes!"

It seemed that after the 1st time, we couldn't get enough of eachother. We HAD TO HAVE EACHOTHER CONSTANTLY.. And our clueless parents, never seemed to be around. so we did it at my house, his house, friends' houses. We'd lay out of school, hang out at eachother's house, smoke pot (my new best friend!) and make love.

He was so sweet, and gentle. (But he still actually sucked at making love, now that I think back on it.) The best part of being a teenager is that you have spent hours and hours of petting, by the time you ever have sex, so you are like the Masters of Foreplay. I remember often sitting between his legs while we watched TV, or listened to music, and he would rub my arms, or play with my hair for hours on end.

My family wasn't really very demonstrative when it came to love, and my mom was single, so this was totally new to me. I mistook this as REAL LOVE, haha. But hey, I was only 15 at the time.

By Christmas, it was all over between us. He like most other boys was too broke or cheap to shell out any dough for a Christmas gift on a girlfriend (People, I know this, I got 2 boys of my own!!) so he gradually quit calling, quit coming over, etc.. etc.. I feel like our sexual experience had opened the flood gates for both of us. So, he started dating a total hooker from another school, and I met an older guy (19 again, DAMN!) that my cousin introduced me too. The other guy....

....deserves his own posting.