Long Distance relationships are a ... belly-ache; they'll hurt periodically. Often, they'll make you cry, but isn't it worth it for the gal. of ice cream?
"Communication is the key" That's what "they" all say, but no matter how much or how little one person communicates with the other who is far away, there always seems to be something in between the two. Hmmm, I wonder what that might be.
I've heard myself say over and over, "it's like he just doesn't get it. How can I tell him? How can I show him? I'm at a loss." And the worst thing is that my only answer to those questions is that long-distance is not meant to be a permanent situation. It's meant to be a temporary situation until the relationship reaches togetherness. There are some things I will not understand about my husband until we move-in together, and there are some things that he will not understand about me until he lives with me and sees me everyday, but as long as togetherness is our ultimate goal, we can make those differences work. We can compromise. We can keep up the lines of communication.
So, I guess that's my advice to anyone thinking about a long distance relationship: know that it will be difficult; there are things s/he will not understand, and there are things you will not understand, which will cause frustration and fights. But, if you know that they're the one you want to be together with in the end no matter what and that is both of your ultimate goal, then it's worth it.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
What did your husband say?
You may be curious as to how I found out about the baby and how I told my family, especially if you know me and/or my family. This isn't something that my friends (or husband) expected from me, but ready or not...
I was at home painting a shelf, now I know I shouldn't paint in my condition, but of course, I didn't know that at the time. I was talking to my husband (who had recently left Washington to go back to Afghanistan) on the phone, and we were joking about me being pregnant, which we had done several times before. I told him that this time it was an actual possibility because I had the normal "warning signs." I was overly exhausted, my breasts were tender, I couldn't think about eating most things I normally loved, and the obvious: Aunt Flow had not made her usual unwelcome visit. He said something like, "Babe, just take a pregnancy test. It will make you feel better, and it will be all over." This sounded logical enough to me, so I told him to hold on while I completed the necessary business.
After peeing on the stick that I had bought at the Dollar Tree months ago, it was obvious. Immediately there were two pink lines. It didn't even take the 3 min they tell you to wait. When I told Greg this, he didn't believe me (thinking I was trying to pull the scariest, meanest prank ever). I had to send him a picture of the test to get him to believe it; this cracked me up! I was so nervous that everything was hilarious. Then Greg frantically said, "Go get another one; Go get another one!" Trying to stifle my laughter I got into the car and said, "Baby what are we going to do?" He had no idea, still partially thinking it wasn't true I'm sure.
I told him that I had never had a false positive, and that honestly I never heard of a false positive before. I learned later that this can happen rarely. He made me laugh harder when he said "Can you go to the Dr. and get a picture of the baby like in that movie Knocked Up?" Why don't guys understand this stuff? Didn't they pay attention in health class? I suppose I payed a little closer attention to the baby-growing process in middle-school health class because I knew that it would happen to me some day. I told him that it would be too early to tell, but I could go to the clinic and have them give me a test that would be a little more reliable.
Then at the clinic, as nerves grew, Greg and I got into an argument. He was being Mr. Critical/Negative, and I told him that I would call him later. He didn't like the sounds of that, apologized, and we continued our visit with him on the phone. They told me that there was no question. I was super-duper obviously pregnant. They said it's good because that means my hormones are nice and high, which makes for a healthy baby. They asked all the questions they were supposed to, and I left scared, and still laughing. Now it was just a knowing smile and disbelief, but it felt almost euphoric.
I shared with Greg all my fears about being a mother, and Greg asked me if it were still ok for him to go hang out with friends that night and go hiking the next day. Of course I said yes. Staying at home and stressing about this wouldn't do either of us any good, even though it was my activity of choice for the next day. I just thought it was funny how quickly my mind went from fear to acceptance. I wasn't worried about that night or the next; I was worried about what I would tell my 7 year old son who asks about sex. I was turning into a mother over-night. It was like some kind of metamorphosis that they show on some nerd-errific sci-fi drama called "Transformation: Co-Ed to Desperate Housewife"
Now here I am, pregnant, still scared, but getting a little more ready everyday.
I was at home painting a shelf, now I know I shouldn't paint in my condition, but of course, I didn't know that at the time. I was talking to my husband (who had recently left Washington to go back to Afghanistan) on the phone, and we were joking about me being pregnant, which we had done several times before. I told him that this time it was an actual possibility because I had the normal "warning signs." I was overly exhausted, my breasts were tender, I couldn't think about eating most things I normally loved, and the obvious: Aunt Flow had not made her usual unwelcome visit. He said something like, "Babe, just take a pregnancy test. It will make you feel better, and it will be all over." This sounded logical enough to me, so I told him to hold on while I completed the necessary business.
After peeing on the stick that I had bought at the Dollar Tree months ago, it was obvious. Immediately there were two pink lines. It didn't even take the 3 min they tell you to wait. When I told Greg this, he didn't believe me (thinking I was trying to pull the scariest, meanest prank ever). I had to send him a picture of the test to get him to believe it; this cracked me up! I was so nervous that everything was hilarious. Then Greg frantically said, "Go get another one; Go get another one!" Trying to stifle my laughter I got into the car and said, "Baby what are we going to do?" He had no idea, still partially thinking it wasn't true I'm sure.
I told him that I had never had a false positive, and that honestly I never heard of a false positive before. I learned later that this can happen rarely. He made me laugh harder when he said "Can you go to the Dr. and get a picture of the baby like in that movie Knocked Up?" Why don't guys understand this stuff? Didn't they pay attention in health class? I suppose I payed a little closer attention to the baby-growing process in middle-school health class because I knew that it would happen to me some day. I told him that it would be too early to tell, but I could go to the clinic and have them give me a test that would be a little more reliable.
Then at the clinic, as nerves grew, Greg and I got into an argument. He was being Mr. Critical/Negative, and I told him that I would call him later. He didn't like the sounds of that, apologized, and we continued our visit with him on the phone. They told me that there was no question. I was super-duper obviously pregnant. They said it's good because that means my hormones are nice and high, which makes for a healthy baby. They asked all the questions they were supposed to, and I left scared, and still laughing. Now it was just a knowing smile and disbelief, but it felt almost euphoric.
I shared with Greg all my fears about being a mother, and Greg asked me if it were still ok for him to go hang out with friends that night and go hiking the next day. Of course I said yes. Staying at home and stressing about this wouldn't do either of us any good, even though it was my activity of choice for the next day. I just thought it was funny how quickly my mind went from fear to acceptance. I wasn't worried about that night or the next; I was worried about what I would tell my 7 year old son who asks about sex. I was turning into a mother over-night. It was like some kind of metamorphosis that they show on some nerd-errific sci-fi drama called "Transformation: Co-Ed to Desperate Housewife"
Now here I am, pregnant, still scared, but getting a little more ready everyday.
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