First and Lasting Fools

Went to bed last night thinking of my father.

This happens occasionally...
and I get wrapped up in memories I don't actually have.

I do not know my father.
I have never seen his face.
I have never heard his voice.
He exists in the world, but not to me.

My mother married my first stepfather when I was a year old or so...
Before I was four, he was gone.

I remember flashes of him.
I have seen his face
I remember feeling loved.
But I cannot hear his voice anymore.

I thought he was my biological father until I was 18....

My mother met my second stepfather almost immediately after.
They got pregnant with my sister when I was five.
He was to be my new Daddy.

He didn't want to be my Daddy, I could tell.
But as a kid hungry for love, for normalcy?
I dove in.

Hi Daddy!

 A tenuous bond....
A daughter who was not really a daughter and a father who was not really a father...
yet.

When my sister was born (and shortly following, my brother), it was clear that I wasn't needed anymore.
 Not a judgment or a whine, simply a fact...

I found myself fatherless again.
It felt familiar, but watching it play out so differently for other children, ones of my flesh and blood, was hard.

I did not feel jealous or angry...
just less.

I would often wish that my father would come rescue me...

He was MY father, after all.

Except he wasn't.

When I was 18, I needed my Birth Certificate.
My mother claimed that she didn't have mine-- "lost..."
So I went to County Records-- got my own damn copy.

As I looked it over, I noticed that my father's name was not on it.
Someone else's name was listed there...
Ummm, what the fuck?

My mother's version of the story is as follows:

She let me believe that her first husband was my father because it was "easier."
I would never have to know the truth....

Ummm, really? Poor planning on her part, then.

Anyway-
He was much older

They fell in love...or she did at least...

She got pregnant

When confronted with the news, he denied her, and told her he was engaged.
She was nothing to him and he wanted nothing to do with her or her baby...

She called him when I was born...
I was not supposed to live.
She wanted to give him the chance to see me...

He never came.

When I was about 9 months old, my mother ran into his fiancee....

This woman knew who my mother was, and strangely, she knew me...

Apparently, I looked JUST like my father.

The only detail that my mother would ever give me was his name.
First and Last.
I never even carried his name.
I carried hers.

I wanted to find him.
See him.
Hear him.
I did not want to love him, or for him to love me.
There would be no diving in.

No "Hi Daddys"

I just wanted the other half of the picture that was me.

But I couldn't find him.
First and Last was not enough.

Five years ago?
My mother was at a bar with friends.
He was there.
He did not recognize her.
She said nothing.

I know he lives in my state, probably even my county.
I know his name.
First and Last.
 

I gave up searching for him a long time ago.
He is a man on his path, and I am a woman on mine.

There is guilt because my son does not have the whole picture.

I am used to messy.
I am used to not being whole.

But that is not what I want for my son.

So I find myself thinking of my father.
Of the face that is mine, but I wouldn't recognize on the street.

I think of the siblings I will never know or love.

I think of the histories and dynamics that I will never be a part of.

Longing for that half that I will never be able to share with the child that is half of me...

I find myself angry for even thinking of it at all.

It seems foolish.

He is not my father, he is just a man.
Who happens to look like me.

I am not his daughter, I am just me.
Who happens to look like him.

It's foolish, right?

Until I think of my son.
Of the two halves that came together to make him.
To create his name.
First and Last.
I see a face that has pieces of mine, therefore pieces of his.
How beautiful that face is.

And I forgive my foolishness.
But not His.






[This post was written for the Red Dress Club, as part of their RemembeRED prompt...Unfortunately, I won't be linking it because I couldn't come in under the word limit. Always running my mouth for too long! HA!]

Taking a break from the Crazy....

In regards to my last post, I want to state emphatically that I love my husband very much--he is very loving and doting (just not tidy), and that despite my hormonally-charged rants of yesterday, he is not dead. I didn't even yell.

Which is miraculous, given the fact I realize NOW, that my episode was probably brought on by the migraine that was building up in, and subsequently unleashed upon, my brain yesterday, at 6:30 pm.

Anyway....on to baby-related things!

Owen and I had our 20 week U/S on Monday, and everything looks GREAT. He hit all the appropriate measurements, is developing the way he should, his heartbeat is strong, and everything looks normal. The tech also said that he had long arms and legs (like his Daddy), so he'll probably be tall. Crazy, right? To me, he's just a tiny little monkey. I can't think of him as a man yet!

As you may have noticed, he is still a HE. Haha. It was doubly-confirmed. :)

I was also told that instead of being a few days into my 20th week, Owen was measuring more like 22, so we shall see.....

(as soon as I get them scanned, I'll post some U/S pics)

I'm just so happy that he's healthy! It was also really nice to have my husband there. He unfortunately wasn't present for the earlier U/S we'd had, so it was quite the moment for him.

He kept saying over and over:
"That was the most amazing thing I have ever seen! That's my son!"

It was adorable.

As far as planning for his arrival, it's FREAKING me out. Logistically, I mean.

So far, people have been awesome with offering us stuff, which is so GREAT, I just don't know where that hell to put it all. I'm waiting for some furniture to be moved, for my MIL to clean out the closet in our bedroom (its got her stuff in it, not ours, I promise), and then perhaps some real progress can be made.

Our registry is just about done, but it's looking more and more like I need to rethink our nursery furniture....

I registered for this really nice set that is transitional, growing with the child, but they're all pretty substantial pieces of furniture. Not having an actual nursery, or apartment for that matter, there's just no room for it. In addition, we've decided to co-sleep, so we won't need a crib anyway for quite some time--making the set kind of moot.

There is furniture that we DO need though, like a dresser to put Owen's things in, other storage pieces, and a small changing table.

Basically, I need to re-shop for smaller scale stuff that's better suited to a studio-type apartment than a home, if that makes sense.

I'm just afraid of falling into the trap of buying stuff that works in a pinch, but then won't last us down the road, much like our poverty-induced purchase of a Klippan couch....

As soon as I can tailor it down, I'll release the registry info for all of those who've been asking. :)

Baby Shower Info:

There's going to be two. Which is not a bad thing, I just don't want people to think I'm shower-greedy...

We had originally figured that we would just have a shower at the in-law's casa, because well, it's where we live. Then my mom decided that she was hosting (come hell or high water) the shower. A shower that is.....Wait for it.....

A Halloween-themed shower. Babies, pumpkins, and ghosts? She also wanted everyone to dress up. This was swiftly vetoed.

(For those of you who know my madre, this is not a surprise.)

The only problem with this is that my mom has a small house, and with all the people my mom has on her list, my MIL has on HER list, and my OWN list, there is no hope of it working out under that roof. On top of that, my MIL will not be in town the weekend my mom is holding the shower.

Then there were two.

The first one will be the 2nd or 3rd weekend of September (still trying to nail down dates with my ever-traveling ILs) at our house, and the 2nd one will take place the 3rd weekend of October at my mother's.

Now I'm tasked with trying to split up the guest list appropriately between the two parties. I want it to be a good mixture of people who know each other, you know?

Thankfully, my very talented friend has offered to do the invites for both showers, and the cake for the September shower. Her cakes are amazing, I'm stoked.

That's as far as I've gotten.

I'll update as more info is cemented!


Happy Fourth of July Weekend, Loves!

The Daddy? Who? Ohhh, yeah.....

I love my husband. He really is the best husband I could ask for.

Sure, he's kinda (okay, IS) a slob-- clothes will make it to the front of instead of IN the hamper, and I think his relationship with his Xbox sometimes borders on cheating, but even so...he is amazing.

Because while there are things that make me want to strangle my husband from time to time, when I really evaluate them all, those things don't really matter.

Why the sudden gush of sentiment?

I was thinking about this blog, and all of the things that I think about in reference to the pregnancy, etc., and it dawned on me that I had not talked about a crucial part of this whole process:

The father.

What's he doing during all of this? Is he excited too? Is he concerned with being a good parent? How does he feel about me as his wife, now that I'm pregnant?

It's the answers to the questions that make me so incredibly grateful that we've been able to make it through various trials to being married and expecting a child.

He's so excited to be a father. He's also scared to death, because he just wants so badly to be a good one. He can't wait for it all to begin.

In the meantime, he's in awe of this whole process.

We received an expectant father's book as a gift, but he's way more interested in all the books I'm reading, because the changes my body is going through both fascinates and worries him.

He comes home from work, and this is what (almost on a daily basis) I hear:

"Hi, honey! I missed you...how was your day? Did you eat? Have you had any weird pains? Do your boobs hurt? Can you feel the baby move yet? Do you feel good? Are you sure? Do you need a nap?"

It cracks me up.

He worries like a mother hen.

He is perfectly confident in my ability to be a mother, but he is so freaked out that the pregnancy is going to kill me or something. Seriously.

He told me, that THAT is what he thinks about at night. My dying in childbirth, and how if that happened, he would fall apart.

If it weren't so sad, I'd laugh, because it's just so over-the-top, but he's genuinely afraid.

He's always worried about me like that. Even before we got pregnant.

A cold is the plague...
A headache? Obviously, a brain tumor.
Random Bruise? Bone Cancer.

He's a bit ridiculous, to say the least, but I've come to realize that he just wants to make sure that he has done everything to take care of me.

He's been SUCH a peach during the pregnancy so far.

He holds my hair back while I puke....and tells me I'm beautiful.

11:45pm and I want a sandwich? He's alllllll over it. Even though it's probably not going to stick...

He doesn't begrudge me for taking up the ENTIRE bed because of weird positions I've taken to sleeping in whilst he clings the edge.

He doesn't make me feel bad for not getting anything done, he applauds it. Haha.

His main goal is to make sure that I am happy, comfortable, and loved.

I know he'll feel that same love and devotion for our child.

What more can you ask for in a husband and father than that?

The laundry to be put away, would be nice....

but I'm not greedy. :)