unexpected...

Unexpected you say? That's right, ladies. It wasn't meant to be like this. There was a point that I figured I still had a choice about what my future would entail after I started a family.

After I pursued my dreams of obtaining multiple degrees and carrying on a career, I would marry a wonderful, intelligent, sensitive, considerate, rich man who would support me and allow me to become the perfect devoted wife and mother while I stayed at home nurturing our beautiful perfect children into upstanding citizens through homemade baby food, cloth diapers, Bach and Beethoven, and carefully planned activities and projects. And if that didn't work out at least I could be a career woman following my heart and sleeping with whoever I so chose! HA!

How wrong could I be?

And here we are today. Sure there are cloth diapers, and a semi-wonderful husband but we're not rich and he's not always intelligent, sensitive, nor considerate, but he's mine and I'm a devoted wife and mother, just like I wanted. But its not exactly what I planned.

I've been a stay-at-home-mom for almost a year now. Right up until my son way born (spring 2009) I was runnin' full tilt boogie. I was a full-time undergrad, I helped run a campus society, worked as a paid independent researcher, I had a part time paid position as a community service/ food pantry assistant, and and every now an again I bartended at a place I have worked for ever. I was go go go all day long. I was busy, busy, busy, and never really knew which way I was going. (I didn't buy the first iPhone because it was nifty. I bought it because it was the first palm kinda thingy that I could sync my iCal with and carry it around. I was still keeping a paper planner (which are never foolproof). For some reason when I am uber busy and forced into structure I ran like a well oiled machine (forced being the noteworthy word here). It was my prime time.

And then suddenly, it was all over.

My two most memorable and important moments in my life fell just days from each other. On a warm Sunday in May I received my BA in History with a Soci minor. Ah. It felt great. It took me years to go to school and when I finally started I ran straight through and came out on top as a member of PBK and Magna Cum Laude honors (tho I graduated about 10 years later then I would like to have). Oh, how proud I was of myself. I loved school. I cried during the ceremony. In your face crappy, non-understanding, non-supportive, high school teachers! I can do anything! Jerks. Anywho, before I had time to let this great feat sink in, my doctor decided it was time to induce and I was confined to a hospital bed. I was already on bed rest for preeclampsia but was given super special permission to go to my grad ceremony. So just days after graduation, the greatest accomplishment in my life, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, the greatest creation in my life.

All schooly things stopped right then for me. No more dork society, no more long research papers and hours in archives, no more paid research spots through the university. Mommydom here we come. My life was about to significantly shift in an unknown direction.

After time I returned to my part time job, which was all that was left of my busy life. Within a few weeks I was offered a new position (mine and another combined). It was take it or nothing at all. So I took it. I already missed school and looked forward to putting some focus and energy into the job. I hardly got started when my 10 week old son was diagnosed with hydrocephalus (see other future posts regarding this long sad ordeal) and later came down with an infection due to the initial surgery. I missed a number of days because of the situation. It was the most painful, difficult and trying time in my life. And right in the middle of it, I was let go. As is having a child go through surgery after surgery all in the early months of his life, but to get let go. Harsh. Did I mention the irony in that the place was a homeless shelter?

I now had to pick up the pieces of my shattered little life. Damn it. Just when I thought I really had it together this time.

I must admit the depression came on quickly and swept me off my feet. During these dark months my marriage began to deteriorate. It didn't help that we had a whirlwind marriage. We met in March '06 and married in August. We lived in the basement of his mother's house until I flipped my lid and she gave us the house and the mortgage to go along with it. Just weeks after she moved out my recovering alcoholic father needed help, and we moved him in. We spent maybe a week alone together. In September I got pregnant (on purpose), my dad moved out in Februrary, and the baby came in May. We spent only those few precious months together, alone, like a couple should. Ah. It still makes me sad. I got a fortune cookie once that said "Sudden Love takes the longest to cure lucky number 2 2 44 35 18 91." It sure is true. And those numbers were bogus.

Life got harder and harder and we had less and less money. Even with our insurance and HSA account the deductibles from the year overwhelmed us. We were paying for massive bills in the end that included the initial birth, his stay initial stay in the NICU, the later shunt surgery, and a hernia surgery for my husband. I'd like to see universal health coverage fix that! The weight of it all along with a small amount of credit card debt from our wedding, and a hefty mortgage (thanks to my MIL) for house that has been assessed for almost $20,000 less began to crush us financially and do worse to our fragile marriage.

For months we have fought almost every weekend. He, unhappy with his job and his role in the family, shuts down his emotions and buries them. I, who amlost in a world I hadn't planned for, yearn for a creative outlet and the constant gratification school had provided (which is what really brings me to blog). We even talked about couseling, we bought books, we avoided each other, but slowly and surely we are figuring it out. Painful as it can be, we'll make it. I believe we were meant to be.

I must say, I have now have got a lot of the pieces put back together. In March, we set it straight after a family inheritance turned out badly (future rant about TN i the works). We're filing bankruptcy, walking away from the house he and his mother owns, and damn it, starting over. We'll live on cash, learn to keep a budget well, and move on. We're gonna jump both feet first holding on to eachother for dear life. It seems to be getting better every day, slowly though, very slowly. I hope to chronicle some of the change in this blog. This is it, this time. The real thing. The real deal, Lucille. We will really start a life together in our own space, just as long as we don't kill each other first.

Just thought you show know a bit more about me.

22 Days,

Donna