Wednesday, July 14, 2004

Our Sappy Love Story

Today I had another ultrasound, and this time I didn't leave the office upset. This would be unusual. I still have 10 follicles, which I consider good now because I had expected some to stop growing. There's always Friday's scan, but at least today there are still 10. I've come to accept this number and just hope that they all continue to retrieval day. Speaking of which, Dr. Chickie said it may be Monday or Tuesday. The days will crawl by until then.

In the meantime, I thought I'd share a little bit about how I met and married my husband Matt. We've been married now for almost 12 years. Yep, 12 years and one child. Makes that toast at the wedding about having lots of babies seem kind of bad luck now. Anyways, this story starts a long time ago in a place far far away... California in the 80's.

Matt was the new boy at my high school, starting at the beginning of our senior year. The first time I saw him was at a sweet 16 birthday party, where he came as someone's date. I distinctly remember checking him out because he was new and good looking. Although I had a boyfriend, I decided that I wanted to get to know him. One day while passing classes at school, I said hi to him. It shocked him he said because he didn't know me and most students weren't friendly to new people at that school. What he didn't know was that I had just come to that high school my sophomore year so I knew what it was like to be new. Also, I thought he was tasty.

We became friends and he dated some of my friends. A year after graduation, he stopped by my apartment to invite me to his going away party. College wasn't working out, so he was leaving for the Army. At the party (a huge college, beer keg, bonfire affair), I arrived a few hours before my boyfriend who was still working. Matt had been drinking and confessed to me some feelings for me. The next morning, I stopped by his place just hours before he was to leave. I gave him my address and a hug that seemed to last forever. Then he had to go.

He wrote me from basic training, communications training, and jump school (he was becoming a paratrooper) and then from his final base. Our letters started out friendly, but pretty soon got to be more than that. I soon broke up with my high school sweetheart of over 3 years. Matt came back at Christmas to take me out on our first date. I got horribly sick (my roommate probably poisoned me) and couldn't go out. My roommate met him at the door and said he'd be going out with her instead with no word of my being sick... and he said he was crestfallen but he took her on our date! I couldn't reach him before he left again, but through letters and phone calls we got it all straightened out and I got a new roommate.

During summer break, I went out to visit him. Our first date consisted of him picking me up at the airport and driving me to the suite he reserved. We weren't alone but for a few minutes before I attacked him. (Would that be considered sleeping with him on the first date or is the year of letter writing counted towards something?) He showed me all around North Carolina that week until it was time for me to go home. About a week later he was in the first group sent to the Persian Gulf (first Gulf war, first President Bush, same Saddam).

During the time he was gone, all I wanted was him to come home alive. We exchanged letters, but his would take about a month to get to me. Occasionally he would find a pay phone and call me collect (from Saudi Arabia!). When he asked if it was expensive I lied. I picked up a second job to pay for my phone bills. Besides school, I wasn't interested in doing much else so why not.

When he came home 9 months later, I flew to North Carolina to see him get off the plane. It was the most exciting day of my life. The plane was late and the tarmac (landing area) was filled with families and signs. When the soldiers got off the plane, they first had to get in formation to hear the band play and some speech by a mucky-muck that went along the lines of "Blah blah blah service to our country, blah blah blah." I was first behind this velvet rope holding back the anxious families. As soon as they were let out, the MPs dropped the ropes and all us civilians started running for all the soldiers and the soldiers were running for us. The soldiers were all dressed alike, so finding each other was not easy. All around me there were reunions with crying parents, soldiers meeting their new babies, or scooping up their wives and kids. And then we found each other and it was incredible. I never wanted to be apart from him again.

At the end of the week, I flew back home to California. Another week or so and he flew back too. Two weeks later he flew back to North Carolina and I was not happy. I didn't wait all that time and hope for so much for us to be apart again. We decided to move in together. He flew back and the two of us drove across the United States together. We got an apartment off-base, and I waited tables. It was a very happy time. One day at the restaurant, in his fatigues, beret, and leather jacket (he drove a Harley then), he proposed. 9 months later, he finished his time in the military, we drove back across country to California, got married, and moved north to go back to school.

Obviously there's another almost 12 years from there to here, but I think that's a pretty good beginning.

In the meantime, I will be a good little hen and keep sitting on these eggs. I may not be gloriously happy, but at least I'm not smashing mad either. Kind of in the middle. They call me Mellow Yellow...


Blogger amanda said...

Oh, I love a good love story. Glad to hear your follicles are hanging in there. Good luck on Monday or Tuesday.

2:20 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh my gosh. Congrats on retaining your magical ten ! :) But seriously - if I was you I'm pretty sure my roomate would not have survived to see another day! She get's my vote for the weekly candidate of really needing a foot up the arse. ~L~

~*Tara*~ (the bitchy witch)

2:24 PM  

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