i woke up one morning feeling ill, extremely ill. i remembered i had been drinking the night before. it was not uncommon for me to be as hungover as a rockstar , but then i remembered… shit, i left early last night. i got called lame for not finishing my drinks… my friends even went so far as to say i “went soft”, that i had “changed”. as i was hurling the remnants of the prior evenings steak & shiitake fajita into the once-shiny porcelain bowl… i remembered saying to myself “this is a different kind of sick… this is not the same 4 shots of tequila, 7 vodkas, 2 joints, and 3 beers sort of sick that i am used to… this feels different”. i pondered the magnitude of this as i watched pieces of half-assed digested food come back up with violent force and burn the back of my throat in the process.
i remember the drive in to work that day… i didn’t have my music cranked… i wasn’t singing like i usually do… fuck, i wasn’t even late like i usually am….
but ohhhhh i WAS late!
just a “different” sort of late… the kind of late that simultaneously makes a woman shake with fear and marvel the wonders of the female form while being tempted to jump off a bridge above an extremely busy highway while wearing a sign around her neck that says “i can’t do it”…. but maybe that’s just me.
i was pregnant. i knew it… i felt it… i didn’t need a fucking test to tell me (even though i took 3), or the week long stint of running to the bathroom at work each morning while telling myself and my coworkers that it was the steak & shiitake fajita i had consumed days earlier… “musta made me sick… think i got food poisoning!” i thought that perhaps if i thought it hard enough… if i really convinced myself that it was food poisoning… then maybe no fetus would be starting to form in my womb… maybe my body would remain in it’s unpregnant girl-like state… i would continue to drink and party like a rockstar, and my period would arrive momentarily. and i would salute it… tell it how much i missed it’s presence and that if it ever scared me like that again, i’d take some fucked up experimental and controversial drug to stop it from visiting me at all, ever again!!!
but that didn’t happen.
and one fetus did not begin it’s journey of life in my comfy, cozy, hospitable lounge-like womb!
NO… because somehow, somewhere, someone said “let’s make this interesting… let’s give her two fetuses”. and so it was… i, me, my body… my juvenile free spirited irresponsible chronically late overanalytical slightly neurotic and often crazy self was about to be a fucking mother motherfucker!!!
could i do that? me? wouldn’t i fuck them up? could i really be responsible for another human being, let alone two, when i could barely take care of myself? Me… the one who doesn’t pay parking tickets, lets insurance policies lapse, buys a new outfit because there’s nothing else clean, sleeps in until noon and sometimes doesn’t go to bed until noon, throws out tupperware so it doesn’t have to be washed, orders out every single night, and lives life by the seat of the pants… ME… Could I do this?
but the question was irrelevant. they came… they’re here… and every single day i’m filled with fear… fear of doing something wrong… fear of them getting hurt… fear of them learning something the hard way, like i always do… fear of them being tortured with a fucked up childhood with a mom who is just so out there that they don’t even know what it means to have a roast beef dinner on sunday, go on a family picnic, or to have the tooth fairy come in the middle of the night and take their teeth in exchange for money because their mom has created some totally different character just despite that teeth-sniping gold-digger 101 promoter bitch who makes kids crave for money and power!
And every single day i look into their manipulative, adorable and rebellious little eyes and they make me laugh, they make me smile so big it hurts, and i just can’t get enough of their intriguing little souls… they are so amazing that i find it hard to breathe… hard to find the air around me… i get overwhelmed… and i think to myself “thank fucking god it wasn’t the steak & shitake fajita”!