Who’s Who

Some of the many people you’ll encounter at Blog It Out, Bitch:

Donny – My long suffering husband. He works hard so I don’t have to. I suspect he only puts up with me because I make him laugh and I’m pretty good in bed. Everyone is waiting for the day when he’ll go “white boy crazy” and kill me in my sleep. Including me.

Kali – Our nine-year-old daughter. She’s smart, funny, and incredibly kind. She’s also drop dead gorgeous. She’s a Disney Channel star waiting to happen, but less annoying and without the whole drugged-up, washed-out, has-been future ahead of her.

Jack – Our newborn baby boy. He’s too young to know what a crazy household he was born into. Born in August of 2008 he’s already displaying a sweet disposition (from Donny) and sense of humor (from me.) He’s also beautiful. Like his Mama.

Sophie/Moon – My best friend since I was 12 and in junior high. We bonded over Guns n’ Roses and To Kill a Mockingbird. She lives in New Jersey with her husband and two small children. She knows where the bodies are buried.

Richard/Tralfaz – Richard and I met on Myspace over two years ago (profile name: Tralfaz.) He’s one of few people that can put up with me, but I suspect he only does so because I’m one of the rare people alive that watches about as much television as he does. Richard is a magazine editor that resides in New Jersey.

Mike/Armand Assante’s Left Ventricle and Bette/Wonder Bitch – I met Mike and Bette on Myspace a few years ago. For a short time we had an internet radio show which was pretty much us making each other laugh for an hour. Mike and Bette are dating and live in Orlando, Florida.

Tara/Boozy Irish Floozie – Tara, another Myspace friend, lives in New Jersey as well. Tara is like me, but white. I suspect she doesn’t drink nearly as much as she lets on.

Other oft mentioned folk include my father and stepmother who are both retired NYC police detectives now living in Atlanta, my mother in North Carolina (also ex-NYPD), and various siblings so large in number that even I sometimes can’t name them all.

BIOBaby: How Jack Came To Be

Nina: Donny, I’m six months pregnant. He’ll be here in three months. How did that happen?

Donny: Well, back in November, one night you woke me up and…

Nina: Shut up!

I really do have the best marriage. I didn’t always know it. Well, maybe I did and for a time forgot, but eventually I did and then came Jack. But not right away. And I think that’s important.

I’ve written about this before, but for about six months two years ago my marriage was on the rocks. I wrote about it from my perspective, with my feelings, but not from Donny’s. That wasn’t my place to speak for him. And it’s still not. For me, I can say that some of my main problems were that I felt we didn’t talk, I blamed him for the fact that I felt like I wasn’t being the person I thought I was meant to be, I resented him for something that really wasn’t in his control, and resented him for something that was. The latter is what I’m about to talk about today.

We tried for almost a year to get pregnant back in 2004-05. At first it was fun. Sex all the time. A lot of sex. And when the first few months went by without a positive pregnancy test, it got less fun. We were already cramming in sex sessions whenever we could. Usually during the day because Kali was 5-6 years old at the time and prone to late night bedroom visits when she couldn’t sleep.

It started to get stressful. I went in for testing to make sure nothing was wrong with me.  I mean, we all knew I could get pregnant and have a healthy pregnancy, but a lot could have changed in five years. After it turned out that I was fine it was suggested that Donny have his sperm tested. And he never did. I’m not really sure when everything started to go wrong. I wish I could pinpoint a moment and say, “Yup, you did this, and then I did that, and that’s when we fell apart.” But I can’t. And it really doesn’t matter. We each had a laundry list of complaints. Needs we each felt weren’t being met. I know that everytime I saw that brown little paper bag with the empty specimen cup just sitting around the house I got more and more resentful. It never occured to me why he delayed getting tested, but more on that in a bit…

About two years ago I had to make a decision. A committment. To either stay in my marriage and make it work, or not. I chose to make it work. For all the reasons that went into that decision the overriding one was strong: I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else. Through all the fighting, doubts, feelings of there’s someone/something else out there for me, I couldn’t shake the day to day feeling that this is where I belonged.

It wasn’t easy. A lot had been said and done on both parts that required forgiveness, but it came. And that’s how it’s been for about two years now. Better than ever actually. Then last October I started getting baby fever. All the reasons I had delayed trying again seemed unimportant. I thought about something happening to my parents or my Grandmothers and not having them around to meet my new child. I thought about something happening to Donny. What the hell were we waiting for? So, we decided that after the holidays we would try. And we would try differently than before. No pressure. We’d just do it when we felt like it and let nature take over.

Then one night in November I was ready to go to sleep around 2:30am. Donny had been asleep next to me for hours. As I turned down the light and prepared to snuggle into the covers I thought about waking him up to spoon with me. It was my usual routine. Sometimes when I woke him up he’d pull me close and go back to sleep… sometimes he wanted more. So, that particular night I thought about it.

“If I wake his ass up he’s probably going to want some. Do I feel like giving him some or do I feel like sleeping? If I want to sleep more than have sex I’ll leave him alone.”

I woke him up.

In December, I spent the first two weeks of the month preparing for and taking my finals. Emily was due to visit a few days before Christmas and I refused to even solidify our plans until December 19th after I’d taken my last final. As the weeks progressed I noticed some changes. I remember IMing Richard, “You know, it’s so weird. I keep falling asleep while reading. At like 11am! I can’t even keep my eyes open.”

“Oh, your life is soooo hard.”

But I found that really bizarre. I would get a full nights sleep the night before and wake up at a decent hour, but within three hours or so I was ready to sleep again. I’m talking head in a book, knocked out, drooling sleep. Then we went to Wal-Mart one night after my Spanish final and I had to leave. We were picking out Christmas lights and I got really queasy. As Donny peeled out the parking lot he rolled down my window with the plea, “Please don’t throw up in here. I need those papers for work.”

Gee thanks.

I remember writing a blog after my finals were done listing all the things I was going to concentrate on now that the semester was over and one of the things was, “Find out where the hell my period is!” I was really kidding. My period always came on the same day of the month unless I was in the middle of a cycle change. But usually, if it came the second Friday of every month and that was consistent. If we had a five week month, my period wouldn’t skip a beat and still come the second Friday of every month. And such was the schedule last December.

I went back to my November blogs and found one written on Monday, 11/12 where I spoke about what we did the previous Friday, 11/9. We’d gone out shopping for some Christmas presents for Kali and dropped a grip on dinner at the Japanese restaurant. After reading the blog I remembered that after dinner I got my period. The second Friday of November. So, as we prepared to go out to see I Am Legend on Friday night, 12/14, I just knew that by the end of the evening I’d have my period. I was so convinced by this, and my back pains, sore boobs, and slight cramps, that before the movie I inserted a tampon. By the time we got home: nothing.

Hmmm. So Donny and I talked about it. Could I be pregnant? Nah. Donny’s reasoning?

“We didn’t even have sex in November.”

“Yes we did.”

“Well, maybe once or twice.”

“It only takes one time, Donny.”

November was a busy month. I had schoolwork up the butt and he was working during the day and going in for a few hours at night for the other job. Also, we’d just bought the flat screen for the bedroom and moved the Xbox 360 in the bedroom. When we had free moments we were more likely to be playing Halo 3 in bed than making love. Sad, but true.

I discovered a pregnancy test in the bathroom left over from our “really” trying days. Donny convinced me to wait till Monday, 12/17 to use it. The next night, Saturday 12/15, my parents came over for dinner and margaritas and I had some. I remember saying to Donny, “I shouldn’t drink this.”

“You’ll be fine.”

That morning we were at IHOP and I really wanted the Strawberry Banana French Toast… and I hate french toast. And I could only eat a few bites of the breakfast I did order before feeling like I had to throw up. Sunday morning, I couldn’t take it anymore. I tippy-toed out of bed before Donny woke. I went into the master bath and locked the door. I ran some water so he wouldn’t hear me opening the drawer and taking out the test. Then I went further into the water closet, and closed THAT door just to take the test. I just didn’t want to get his hopes up.

We all know now it was positive and even still I was in shock. Two lines? What does that mean? I grabbed the instructions and immediately my eyes went to the part where it explained that one line meant not pregnant. Well, if one line means not pregnant then two lines must mean really not pregnant, right? I mean, I just had margaritas last night! I couldn’t be pregnant! That seems like so long ago. Like years, really.

I hate bringing up painful things. Especially if they involve wrongdoing on my part. I have no problem apologizing, but it has to be when I’m ready. I have to feel it and mean it. But once I do, I hate revisiting. But this was too important and I couldn’t worry that what I had to say to him might make him think about the not so good times when things were oh so right currently.

So, while lying in bed the other night and watching him watch TV I tapped his shoulder, looked in dead in the eyes with tears in my own and told him that I was exactly where I wanted to be, having this child with the man I wanted to be with, and that I loved him.. even when I didn’t act like I did, I always loved him and always would. He simply replied, “I know.”

I don’t agree with people who decide to have a baby to try and save a struggling marriage. I think that if it works it’s because they were lucky and most likely able to work through their issues had they not had a child. I think that to try and conceive simply to save a marriage is incredibly unfair to the child considering the consequences should it not work out. That’s why I feel extremely blessed that we had almost two years of solid reconciliation behind us before we got pregnant. That’s why I’m glad he was conceived from a night of nothing more than his two parents wanting each other.  I feel like he’s our reward and not a tool to fix something broken.

And I finally understand what he must have been feeling back when there was some concern with us not conceiving. I feel so honored to give him this little boy, and really that’s the best word to describe it, that I can just imagine that he must have been feeling the exact opposite of that… or feelings that equal the absence of that. How devastating would it be to learn you are incapable of giving that gift to your wife?  No wonder he delayed and ignored it. And should I have just put my own frustrations aside for one moment and talked to him about it, instead of isolating myself in resentment, maybe that would have been one less wall between us.

We really are a mess. Probably quite sickening to be around. And not just the two of us, but Kali too. We’re sooo excited about this baby.  We talk to him and Donny and Kali are constantly touching my belly and kissing it. I’m sure Jack is sick of us already. Especially since he can now hear outside noises. And I yell a lot.

I was yelling at Donny for something the other day and shouted at his retreating back, “This is your fault! I bet today is Jack’s first day of hearing and all he can hear is me screaming like a maniac.”

“He better get used to it,” Donny called over his shoulder. Smartass.

This morning I woke Donny up around 6:30am to feel Jack kicking. Then around 7am I decided I was hungry.

“What do you want?”

Now, ladies… the fact that he asked means he’s willing to fulfill the request, right?

“Scrambled egg whites, toast, juice, and coffee.”

He releases a deep sigh.

“Well, you asked.”

A short while later he brings me a plate of food and a glass of juice. He says, “You owe me big time.” I didn’t respond because I was too busy laughing at Jon Stewart asking Barack Obama if his master plan as President would be to enslave the white race. When Donny returned with my coffee I asked him, “Why do I owe you big time?”

“Because you woke me up to make you breakfast.”

“Noooo, I woke you up to feel your son kick, but you know, if that’s not important to you than I won’t do it again.”

“No. No. No. Don’t twist my words.”

“No, whatever. Too late. Jack already heard you. He knows who loves him more.”

“Shut up. I don’t mind that you woke me up for that… you just got breakfast out of the deal which was probably your main reason…”

“How dare you!”

Our voices are getting increasingly louder, and we’re talking over each other, but the whole conversation is taking place with smiles on our faces.

“Well, whatever. One day I’m going to wake up and push your baby out of my vagina, so breakfast is the least you can do!,” I shouted.

And just then Kali comes in the bedroom asking, “What’s wrong with you two?”

I really have the best family ever. If I didn’t know/appreciate it before, I do now.