Jenna

I just read someone else's blog and they were telling the story of their 1st child and it gave me the idea to do the same so here goes.

When I was 17 I lived with my grandma and dated a very sweet but not very bright boy named Eric. He liked to tell people that we met on the street corner because he saw me walking by and stopped his car to talk to me. (I didn't think it was funny either.) He lived just around the corner with his mom, had seen me several times and thought I was cute. Well, back then I was and I knew we had no future but we ended up staying together for about a year. I guess that's just what you do when you're 17. Anyway, Eric had an older brother, Chet, who had his own place, and Chet had a roommate named Guy. Guy was tall with blond hair, blue eyes and full lips and he spent most of his time combing his hair in the mirror and chasing chicks. I thought he was the most conceited person I had ever met and completely ignored him whenever we were there visiting Chet.

As time went on, Eric got very insecure and worried that I would somehow start to like Guy instead of him. After all, Eric said, Guy was very popular with the girls but I was in no way interested. He even voiced his concerns to Guy and warned him to stay away from me. How ironic that the only reason Guy and I started talking was because of Eric's paranoid jealousy. I soon discovered that Guy was really great to talk to and we became good friends. We even started working out at the gym together 5 days a week and were still friends when I eventually broke up with Eric. Guy and I ended up spending a lot of time together and he even set me up with one of his bodybuilder friends, Tom. I dated Tom for several months until one day Guy called me at work, like he often did often to chat, and said he had something important to say. Get this, he was tired of chasing empty-headed twits and had just realized how great I was. No...really! He wanted me to break up with Tom and give him a chance. Well, I had developed a secret crush on him over the past year and a half we'd been friends so I said yes.

We ended up living together on and off for the next 4 years. I think we really did love each other back then but we were young and just didn't realize how things should go. We were just not compatible as anything more than friends. We would break up and I would move out then we would miss each other so much that we'd come running back to each other again. After about our 5th break up, (seriously) I was living in my own apartment and not returning his calls. I was determined to move on this time for good. I swear he must have called nonstop for 3 weeks, leaving messages begging me to come back. Then one day the phone quit ringing. It hadn't rang in over a week when I found out I was pregnant. After several intense days, I finally decided to call and discuss it with him. I didn't know what I was gonna do but after so many years together, he at least had the right to know. It took him about 2.5 seconds to decide that he wanted to trade his motorcycle in for a 4 door sedan, marry me, buy a house and raise our child together. So we lived happily ever after...Just Kidding.

So, I moved back in with him and we gave it another shot. Everyone was sure I was having a boy. Everyone including me and I was somewhat disappointed about it but I kept it to myself. My mom and I had never gotten along and my childhood was not a happy experience. That's a whole 'nother story, but because of that, I wanted so badly to have a little girl of my own. Like a lot of children do, I promised myself that I would do things differently when I was a parent. I had it in my head that having a daughter would be like getting a second chance. By giving her a happy childhood, I could fix mine and somehow make it right. Like a do-over.

My due date was January 21st. I counted down the days and marked them off on the calendar. My water broke the morning of the 7th. We weren't even finished with Lamaze classes. During a snow storm, we carefully drove to the hospital timing my contractions the whole way. They were all over the map. 45 seconds apart and lasting 30 seconds then a minute apart and lasting 45 seconds...WTF?...this wasn't how the lamaze lady said it would go. Yeah, she also said that someone's water hardly ever breaks and goes everywhere before you can get to the hospital. The chick LIED, ok? We're talking GALLONS here, Yuk!!! The mattress had to be hauled away to the dump.

Guy's mom, Guy's sister, my mom and my grandma all met us at the hospital and they hooked me up to the monitors. I was officially admitted around 12:30 pm. After about an hour, the nurse decided that I was not dilated enough and needed to go home, labor for a while and come back later. In her guess, it would be the sometime the next day before I progressed enough to come back. Everyone decided to meet at my grandma's, which was very close to the hospital, to sit and watch me labor for awhile. I got dressed and my mom and grandma waited in the parking lot. Before I could leave, the on-call doctor needed to sign-off on me so he came in for a quick look. He asked the nurse how dilated I was and she said "only a 1/2 centimeter". He felt my abdomen and asked for an ultrasound machine to be brought in. 3 Minutes later, he is yelling to everyone within ear shot that the baby is breech and asking how long it's been since my water broke. Then he's ordering an emergency c-section and telling me that I'm not going anywhere. While my mom and grandma were being called back in from the parking lot, the head nurse was getting an ass-chewing from the doctor and 4 interns were poking at both my arms trying to start an IV. At 3:22, after I had been shaved and catheterized by a psycho, nazi, surgical prep nurse, fully conscious and with Guy at my side, they delivered my child. I waited patiently for those three little words from the doctor, and then there they were, "It's a girl." They wrapped her up and brought her over to me. Paralyzed from the neck down due to the spinal block, I awkwardly turned my head to get my first look at my daughter. I smiled at her through my tears and all I could manage to say was "I got my girl."

Guy and I stayed together until she was 10 months old and then made a mutual decision to part. At least we gave it one last try for her sake. He loves his daughter has been a great dad to her. Gentle and affectionate. She's 13 now and for most of the time he has seen her regularly. He does have a wife that is currently causing problems, (see Dead Girl Walking for more insight on that one) but I'm sure we'll get through that OK too. Guy and I get along great most of the time although we have had the occasional spat when they raise the child support. But, hey, that's to be expected. All things considered, I don't think we could have done any better. Jenna has been raised with plenty of love and care from both of us and is a well adjusted kid.

My daughter and I are very close, just like I had always hoped for. I know she's only 13 and the upcoming teen years are the toughest times but I think that if we stay respectful of each other and communicate as openly as we have, it'll be OK. I don't know what I would do without her. I swear she saves my life every day and I am fiercely protective of her. She says I'm the best mom ever and her best friend and we've got each other's back, totally. Don't get me wrong, she still has her little PMS moments and I have to nag her about her homework CONSTANTLY but she also sings with me and tells me how much she loves me. Just last night she gave me one of her big hugs. As I watched her go off to bed, I sat here and wondered how many 13 year old girls are that close to their mom. I have made many mistakes in my life but she is definitely not one of them. I don't know how I got so lucky. As long as I have her, I still get my happily ever after no matter what else is going on. I hope every loving parent out there gets to feel the same way. There's nothing like it.