Well, we survived the birthday party. Kelly turned 6 today, and had a party this evening. We had a total of 14 kids - 9 from school, her and Kristen, and their 2 cousins. The birthday girl had a blast. She's so shy at school, I wasn't sure how this would go, but she was really outgoing on her own turf. It was funny - this boy in her class told Rachel "Your girl is really quiet at school." Anyway, she had a great day. Her class was excited about the party because there had only been one other birthday party this year, and they did the usual school card-making thing, and she was just beaming. At bedtime I asked if she had a good day and she said "yes, I did..... I really did!" It was touch and go preparing for it. I was trying to finish up my annual review at work and get it in today, because I have my annual meeting with the boss on Monday and he needed it today, and Rachel calls me at 3 and goes "OMG, YOU ARE STILL AT WORK!?!" because I had to still pick up the cake, pop, plates, etc. Anyway, it all got done, the party lasted 3 hours, and all was fine. Tomorrow, her cousin has his school party and then from 2:00 on, we are having family here for her family party. Then on Sunday, we go to her cousins' for the family party for their kids (they have 2 kids with birthdays - one on Kelly's birthday, and one the day before). Throw in Mother's Day and this wine and cheese thingy I am supposed to go to on Sunday night, and we call it a full week.
Anyway. Six years ago tonight I became a father. I can't quite believe it's been that long, and at the same time, I can't really remember much about not being a dad. It's funny how life gives you what need sometimes. Having children came about as quite a surprise. I've always loved kids, true, and I spent my growing up years being the "male babysitter" that was all the rage with a certain group of people. As I said before, I was a nanny for my doctor's 4 daughters and 1 son, looking after some of them literally when they were a week or two old. And, I have a gaggle of nephews, etc. But as I got older, I went through this phase of "ah, I don't need to have kids." And y'all know what a commitment-phobe I can be - we dated and shacked up for a total of 8 years before we made it legal. And, it's not like I had some crazy, jet-setting life before I had kids that would make me think of them as an inconvenience. No, my life at that point was basically spent sleeping a lot, going out to eat a lot, and watching movies..... things that don't happen anymore. But anyway. I sort of thought we'd have kids someday, although we didn't know when. It was always "when we are out of school/married/buy a house/get good jobs/etc." So, we took baby steps to babyville. We could talk about it without me getting panicky. We could talk names too. But we never really said WHEN we'd do it. The first step was Rachel going off the pill. While the pill makes sex 14 million times easier, it always made me nervous. My sister "Leslie" almost died from the pill. She ended up with blood clots in her lungs from the pill and it was touch and go for a while there (and no, she's never smoked a day in her life). So, it always made me nervous. And then there is the whole obsessive questions I would think of: "Did you take your pill today? At the same time? Did you get the runs or anything to render it ineffective? Are you on antibiotics?" Call me paranoid, but I can name you three kids off the top of my head that came into this world due to antibiotics, the flu, and no good reason, all due to the pill (Allie, Matt, and Aaron - all loved children, but unplanned by their pill-taking mamas). And then there was the whole regularity of the pill - Rachel would have her period every 4th Monday morning. If it didn't arrive in the morning, or for some reason was a day late, I was sweating more than Frank from Trading Spaces. So, it was actually a relief to get her off of the pill. So, we just switched to condoms, and life went on - I'd rather have the inconvenience of them than having her keel over with a clot or stroke - I'm caring that way.
So that was the first step - I don't remember when we actually did that, a year or two before we had Kelly. Anyway, I really think it was divine intervention that led us to try to have a baby. We hadn't talked about it, had no plans for anything, nothing. But then one night, I remember it so well, we were lying in bed, on a work night, VERY late, after an evening of visiting some relatives from Holland. Anyway, it was well past our bedtime, and remember, this was back in the day when we needed 17 hours a sleep a night, or so it seemed. Back in the selfish me-me-me days. But, of course, I was feeling.. amorous.... and was being quite obvious in my intentions, and my dear Rachel was all "have you LOOKED at the clock?!" and then finally acquiesced (did I spell that right? I don't have spell check). And, it was at that moment I thought "why the hell don't we try to have a baby? Aren't we ready? And it usually takes 6 months for people to get pregnant" so I said "hey, why don't we..." and Rachel paused, said "well, ok" and then you can insert your own hideous visual here. I dunno if I had an epiphany, or if I was too lazy to roll over to dig in the drawer, or I didn't want to wear the proverbial sock in the shower, or what, but I know it was divine intervention none the less. Immediately after, I remember lying there thinking "wtf did we just decide to do?" and then thought "oh, well, it takes months usually."
Yup, that's what I thought. However, all mathematics done since that moment comes down to that evening. The first time we tried. On impulse. Of course, I didn't give that night another thought. Life was busy. I remember having to go to Regina for this stupid fucking retreat thing on a Monday and coming home on a Tuesday. I drove my friend and coworker Jane down with me, a sweet Indian woman who was in her 60s. I remember we stopped in Southey for gas and this old man uttered a racial slur to her. I guess when she was in line buying a bottle of water, he said to her "buying mix? You Indians sure like to drink" and she couldn't think of a comeback until one town over - it was "I should have asked him if he wanted to join me - see if he was man enough to rise to the challenge." But of course, it was a town too late. Anyway, it was Monday when we left, the Monday Rachel would get her period. It would happen on Monday or Tuesday. Well, I went to this hideous retreat, where I remember trying to get out of going to my first pipe ceremony, and then going home on Tuesday. I don't know why, but on the ride home, I had a thought that, hey, maybe something DID happen that night. Don't ask me why. But I went home, got in at 8 or so, and Rachel wasn't home, but her stuff was there. Let me explain - she doesn't like to stay alone, so she always would stay with her folks when I'd be on the road. She had all her stuff packed in a laundry basket (for reasons I am still not clear on - I dunno why not a duffel bag) and I took a look for tampons. Didn't see any, but then I sort of forgot it. She came home, I bitched, and then she said "you know, I still don't have my period." Then, we went to bed.
Fast forward to 4:00 a.m. I hear "JT... JT!" calling from the bathroom, and I stumble in there and say "what?" Rachel is all "I don't feel good... I just threw up in the tub" and sure enough, I see a little bit of puke in the tub, so I am trying to process how that happened (I never did ask - I am assuming she was sitting on the toilet or something). Then, suddenly, she fainted dead away. You know how they faint on television shows, and it's a gentle swoon? Well, ain't nothing gentle about this. Picture it. A little bit of strange looking vomit sitting in my tub, both of us naked as jaybirds, standing in the bathroom, as she faints.... and I grab her arms.... and ease her down.. but all her weight is on me and I have to keep her from crashing into the vanity. So she faints down to the ground and I am scared that something hideous is happening, like she is dying or having a stroke or something, so I start slapping her and yelling and shaking her so bad I am surprised Kelly doesn't have shaken baby syndrome. Suddenly, she wakes up, asks what happened, and I say "you fainted." She says 'Fainted? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME!?!" and bursts into tears. I somehow get her on her feet, still have my wits with me to grab the bleach under the sink and disinfect my tub, and get us tucked into bed, where we both bawl because it was so scary with the fright of her fainting and thinking something horrible was happening. That is when I said I would work on quitting smoking. It took 2 years, but that was the Genesis of the whole thing.
Anyway, we both call in sick in the morning and my wife was all "Last night was freaky, and my period is at least one day late. Go buy a pregnancy test." So, off I go, to Superstore for some reason, hoping to hell I don't run into work people, since I was "sick". I am not sure why, but I was sort of embarassed to buy a pregnancy test - I've never batted an eye buying condoms, and indeed, I still relish the memory of taking my brother in law to a sex shop once and mortifying him intentionally by yelling "Hey, Jim, look - 'Lick Them Balls!' is on for 4.99!" Ah, I can be an asshole, can't I? Anyway, I am usually cool as a cucumber, but the test made me nervous. So, I get a two pack, and get home, and my woman commences peeing. And then we see the faint line. So we do another. ANother faint line. The paper says that any line means the proverbial rabbit is dead, and get thee and your embryo to a doctor. But us, being as navel-gazingly retarded as the characters on Dawson's Creek, go out for more tests. We do two more. Same thing. So I make her call the 1-800 line to talk to the Clear Blue Easy nurse down in Alabama. So Rachel says something like "I took 4 tests this morning, and they all have this light line on them" and the southern Black woman was all "Sugar, don't take no mo' tests, go to yo' doctor". Of course, my darling wife doesn't have a doctor at that moment. So, I call my doctor, who hasn't taken new patients since Wilma Flintstone walked the earth, and told his nurse, in no uncertain terms, that I knew that "Jim" had Wednesday afternoons off, and I knew he didn't take new patients, but he'd take my wife, trust me, and he'd see me on a Wednesday afternoon before he went home. And glory be to God, she listened to me without one word of protest. And so we were the last patients of the day. Sitting in his waiting room, they played "Mockingbird" by James and Carly, and I thought "if she's pregnant, this is my baby's song." So we go in there, he asks the questions, and then she goes to pee... and can't. She forgot and peed at home. So she squeaks out 3 drops of pee and they get the faint positive result. He tells us not to tell anyone yet since it's faint, and to come back in a week.
But long story short, if you are still with me, she was pregnant. And we can't NOT tell anyone. So we tell her family. And it was so weird, because for some reason, we are driving by her brother's house, and her sister was there (and she never is there, so it was weird) and her parents, and so she breaks the news, and her sister looks all funny. I think "whatever" but then, I find out later, that her sister has been trying for 6 months. But then, a few weeks later, her sister finds out she is indeed pregnant too - with a due date one day after Rachel. They also coincidentally lived maybe 25 houses down from us. It was odd.
Anyway, so we go through the pregnancy. Rachel is healthy as a horse, and craves oranges, iced tea, and had an aversion to new car scent. We bought a new car. A brand new car. The smell made her sick and she couldn't ride in it. She literally puked on herself when I tried to take her to work in it one day. Otherwise, she was great. We were terrified to have sex, so it was quite comical, actually. Factor in those cool pregnancy horny hormones, with my always in overdrive hormones, and baby, you got yourself a bad teen movie from the 80s.
So her sister and her are one day apart in due dates. I keep thinking we are having a boy. I always said I didn't want girls because they fight (my doctor's kids). They think they are having a girl. Due date arrives. Nothing. Sister in law due date arrives. Her water starts to leak. She ends up in the hospital for days. Rachel spends her time with her sister. I go about my business. Our friend Sharon, who I work with, who is also knocked up, goes into labor. Thursday night, Sharon has her baby, a boy. 20 minutes later, my sister in law gives birth in the next room. A boy. I go up there, after eating a meal of spaghetti and then having a nap on my basement couch in front of the television, and then we get home at midnight. I ask my wife if she feels labory, she says no, and I take 2 gravol and knock myself out. Fast forward to 6 a.m. We're in labor. She does her hair, make up, I do my hair, call everyone, smoke a bunch, and then go to the hospital. We get there and she's all painful, and the nurse is all "honey, you are just nervous, this is your first, yada yada" and then checks her and sees she's 4 cm already. But then we get an epidural, and that stops all desire to push. SO while she's fully dialated by 10 in the morning, she has no urge to push, and Kelly is finally born at 7 in the evening, after using the vacuum and as they were walking in to take her to the operating room - the doctor grabbed Kelly's head or something.
And at that moment, I fell in love like I never knew you could. Nothing could prepare me for that moment, for that evening. I didn't realize how life changed forever at that moment, but looking back, it IS the defining moment.
I went home at 2:00 in the morning, and went straight to the stereo, put on "Your Song" by Elton John, and bawled. And bawled. And bawled some more. Ever since then, it's been her song. She has a few others, notably "Only One" by James Taylor, since it was the only thing that would calm her down in the car, but Your Song is Her Song.
Kelly and I have a really close relationship. She was a real mommy's girl and nursed almost until Kristen was born, and slept with us. Then Kristen was born, and changed things. I had to make up where mommy would always do, since mommy needed to be with baby. So we've been very close. Now, I have that sort of relationship with Kristen since we have Brianne. And now Brianne is becoming a Daddy's girl. I have my hand's full. But anyway, I have to say that it is my girls that make me want to strive to be a better person. It is them that made me have the courage to quit smoking. To lose weight (I gain it back every year or two, but it's them that never let's me give up). To change jobs. To try to be a better person. And when I am not, it's them that are in the back of my mind, making me think "you have to do better" or "stop being selfish" or just "dummy the fuck up, asswipe". I've never cried so much in my life, since becoming a father. I cry at everything. At Kristen giving Kelly a birthday hug and kiss today, for example. Parenthood has opened up so much in me, and made me feel more in touch with expressing emotion.
So, here I am, 6 years to the day, thinking back on the stupid things I've said like I didn' t want kids, or I didn't want girls, or whatever. I thank God every second for not listening to me, and making us decide to conceive a child at a godforsaken hour, and for giving me three beautiful girls (and I thank him for not giving me three boys) who are the sweetest things I've ever seen, and for choosing me, with all my failings and warts and scars and bruises and immaturity and selfishness and just plain stupidity and weakness and unworthiness and all else, to father these children, who are diamonds in the sky, little stars of wonder, innocence exemplified and the epitomy of what real, unconditional love and fulfillment really is.
Six years ago tonight I held my eldest daughter, and looked into her loving eyes, and knew this love was forever. I am truly blessed.
Happy birthday my sweet baby Kelly. May you get all that you want out of life, and you will always have us, no matter what, forever and always.
Love you sweetie.
How wonderful life is, now that you're in the world.
All my love,
Daddy
xoxoxoxox
