Commit

“Today I commit my life to you. For better or worse, I vow to honor you and love you with all that I have and with all that I am.”

I sat there listening to that sentence over and over. We were more than this. I thought there was a deeper level of connection. How could I have been so wrong?

When I met Cameron 10 years ago, I had just committed to living a new life. I was in graduate school working on my MBA at Georgetown University. I had lived a life well beyond my years. I was a survivor.

Our dating life was surreal. Perfect with the right amount of friction and issues to remind us that we are only human. We dated for 3 years. Laughing, dancing and traveling allowed us to grow closer. I never shared much of my past with Cameron.

He knew that I had a traumatic life, but not to the point that I could ever talk about. He said he understood. He didn’t want to pressure me. He just wanted to love.

And he did. Everywhere. I was the envy of all my friends.

I had happiness. I had security. I had love.

What more could I ask for or ever need? Nothing. Which is why I was surprised when Cameron asked me to marry him after 3 years. I mean I said yes, but was shocked because I never imagined getting married. I was happy with the way things were, but being his wife meant that I could enjoy a legal sort of bliss.

Our wedding was perfect. The beautiful island of Capri. The sun, the sand and his family and friends made it perfect. We would honor our commitment with a beautiful destination wedding. I love Cameron.

My dress was perfect. Just enough sex appeal to keep him wanting, but beautiful and feminine to not be embarrassed when we had children. Heaven. I was in heaven.

I was also drunk from the sun and wine. I stumbled to the bathroom at the venue. The women’s had a line. I didn’t care. I pushed the door to the men’s room opened. I was horrified at what I saw.

My eyes wouldn’t register. What is this? I must be dreaming.

The sounds of guttural sex were both familiar and real. I pushed open the stall. I saw the man that I loved and just married screwing my maid of honor.

I began to scream. “Whore! Slut! Asshole!” My blood was boiling as I began swinging at both people. I was going to commit murder.

 

This post was inspired by the Daily Post. The word prompt was commit.

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Why The Paper Matters

I’ll be the first to tell you that marriage is hard as heck. Is it rewarding? Umm, sometimes. Is it beneficial to you? If you marry the right person. Isn’t it just a piece of paper? No. It’s more than that.

Think about it. The Declaration of Independence is more than a piece of paper. How about the U.S. Constitution? Pieces of paper matter to everyone. A piece of paper gives you a driver’s license. A passport. Paper matters.

So, why would a marriage license only be a piece of paper? It’s not. It’s more than that.

I’ve known people who never got married. They had children and bought houses and believed that paper didn’t matter. Until one day they realized it did matter. When did they realize that? When the person they loved died.

I know of a woman who believed that her parents were married all her life. Her dad died. Her mom tried to get the life insurance company to work with the funeral home to do an assignment of benefits so they could bury him. Guess what happened?

Her parents were never married. Her dad left his life insurance policy to his former boss. Her mom had no legal leg to stand on to contest the policy because she wasn’t the spouse. They had to pool together to find money to bury her dad. The former boss didn’t help nor care.

Let me break it down simpler for you. If you are a legal spouse, most states will say that a spouse has rights to the insurance regardless of your husband changing it to someone else. You could go to court and fight the beneficiary form. It matters.

A friend told me that years ago a woman she knew was with a man for many years. They bought a house together, loved each other and created many memories. He got sick and she was there taking care of him and never leaving his side. Coordinating with his children over care and all things with their dad. He died.

His children put her out of the house that their father owned because they weren’t married and her name wasn’t on the deed. Disappointing. Yep. Disturbing. Absolutely. But, what rights did she have? None. She wasn’t the spouse.

Paper matters.

I believe in the institution of marriage. I believe that once you’ve gotten to the point that you’ve decided that there is no one else that you would rather be with then you should definitely consider marriage. Legal documents can be contested once you’re dead by family members or children. The law will never take it away from the wife. Remember that.

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Them Damn Drugs

Ordering my drugs was a breeze. I just had to order them directly through the pharmacy and I couldn’t use the one downstairs in the lobby of the fertility doctor’s office. The co-pays were relatively affordable, considering the costs of everything I needed. I wasn’t complaining.

The meds arrived to my house via UPS and I unpacked and put them in the refrigerator. Drugs for our fertility treatments were placed next to my collared greens. It was laughable. But, there was a giddiness and easiness that had emerged between us. We were rediscovering each other. Finding the joy in each other again.

It was weird and different. We were different. I think the desire to procreate (even though it wasn’t naturally conceived) put us at ease. We were one unit coming together to create life. I was finishing up the birth control pills and had to start the Lupron. We added the FSH injection as well and then began the back and forth trips to get the blood work.

The nurse had given a tip to put an ice cube on the area to numb it before the injection. She said it helps with the multiple needle sticks. We tried it. I didn’t feel the pain of the needle as much as I felt my belly turning blue and purple from the cold.

I had multiple trips to the lab and daily calls with the nurse to make sure things were progressing. We were a wreck. After each blood draw we waited patiently to see if our numbers were climbing until we were finally given an egg retrieval day. It became real. The bruising on my belly from the numbness of the ice and the multiple injections was worth it. A couple of days before the retrieval, I had received 3 shots that day.  But, it didn’t matter. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Fewer injections. I was finally going to get my eggs retrieved.

We arrived at our appointment time where I was instructed to change. I was told that I would be put in a twilight sleep during the procedure. My husband was led away to do his business so that they could fertilize his sperm with my eggs. I would be alone.

I woke up feeling hazy in recovery and my husband was right there. We smiled. The doctor came in to tell us that they had recovered 7 eggs and would start the monitoring process for transfer. I was discharged and told to take it easy. I still had to continue the injections, but it felt easier. It was like I knew that we would have a baby so I could bear the unpleasantness of the situation.

I laid in bed the rest of the day praying that one of those eggs would give us a baby. Just one. I wasn’t picky. The next day we received a call from the center stating that of the 7, 5 were viable and they were monitoring to see which would be ready for a transfer. They said that it may be a day 3 transfer.

The days passed slowly as we were told that of the 5 viable eggs only 2 were able to be transferred and we were doing a day 3. The transfer occurred and there was nothing left to do but wait. We had to wait. Eleven days after the transfer to see if we were pregnant.

They advised us to not use home pregnancy tests but to wait. We went about our lives having a wonderful Valentine’s Day just waiting. Love was in the air and we were both optimistic that we would be getting the great news that we were having a baby.

– To Be Continued –

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

The Truth

We had been married for over four years. It was time. I had pushed off having children for years. I enjoyed it being us, but the silence was deafening. The desire to have a baby was like an echo in our otherwise peaceful home. He wanted children. I didn’t know if I was ready. I still had a lot of unreserved issues about being a mom, so it was becoming a problem for us. But, there was no time like the present.

December 2006

We sat there in the doctor’s office.  “Well, we’ve ran the tests and it looks like there is some blockage in your tubes and male fertility problems” he said. “What does that mean?” I asked. “It means that you’ll have difficulty conceiving” I sighed. My husband asked “Does this mean that we can’t have children on our own? “No, I will never say that. Couples conceive each day to the astonishment to the medical community. It just means that it will be difficult to conceive.”

I sighed. “What are our options?” He said “I would recommend IVF with ICSI.” I replied “I’ve been doing research and why not IUI” I asked. “Your blocked fallopian tube makes it more difficult” he responded. I was sitting there stunned. Not sure what to think or believe. My husband grabbed my hand.

The doctor said “I know that I’ve given you a lot of information to process, but if you want to move forward I would like to set up the group counseling sessions about the process. You’ll work with a nurse who will outline and handle everything.” We smiled. Got up slowly and were handed off to the nurse.

She smiled. Beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes. In an instant I felt jealous. I bet she doesn’t have fertility problems. I bet she has a beautiful baby with the bluest eyes and blonde hair at home. It was painful. She could sense my anxiety and led us through to a conference room and explained the next couple of months to us. I was trying to listen and absorb what was being told to me.

Beyond the counseling sessions, we had to do our testing. Complete work ups. Do we want genetic testing? Does it matter? Personal choice. But, shouldn’t we be happy if we just get pregnant? Questions among questions floated through my mind. I looked over at my husband. He shook his head. He was listening intently. I looked back at the paper.

I needed to get on birth control. I had just had my period a week ago so nothing could happen for another month. I need to order my medications. They were specialty drugs and they had a specialty pharmacy in the building. We took all the paperwork and left. It was overwhelming.

We stopped by the pharmacy and dropped off the prescriptions. They were starting a Lupron protocol. We went to the car. We sat there. “It’s a lot” I said. “Yeah” he said. “Are we ready?” I asked. “Yes, we’ve talked about this” he replied. He’s right. I was being a chicken shit.

I hated needles. The fear of the needles was paralyzing me. That along with all the other scientific stuff we needed to go through. But, the smallest thought that we could have a baby next Christmas gave me pause. I smiled.

We headed home. Our lives were about to change.

-To Be Continued-

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

5 Things I Need Babe

So, my friend Victor at Victor’s Corner wrote a post encouraging you to write an Open Letter and describing the different types of open letters you could write and I decided to do one. I thought about what kind of letter I would write and I knew that I wanted to write an open letter to my future husband. For all intents and purposes it will most likely be Mr. C, but I wanted to let you (and him) know the 5 things I need for our marriage.

Dear Mr. C:

It’s almost that time. Our time of reckoning that this life we’re building must go further. We can’t continue in an indefinite state of boyfriend/girlfriend. I know it was my wish to be this way for many years and you have indulged my spirit. I want you to know these 5 things before you ask me to be your wife.

  1. I need to know what you think. I’ve had so many relationships where the man that I’m with doesn’t offer me an opinion on anything I suggest. I hate that. I need you to be my partner and I will be your help mate. You need to be able to offer an opinion on things that I suggest, even if it’s “Babe, I don’t know what to say. It’s complicated, but I trust that you will make the right decision.” That explanation alone speaks volumes. I don’t expect you to have all the answers. I expect you to be able to talk to me and respond when I feel uncertain. Ask yourself whether or not you could do this?
  2. I need you to understand that it’s more than me and Munch. You know my relationship with my son’s father is contentious on its best days. I struggle to find the time, energy or power to respond. We don’t speak and even though the constant emails and text messages are wearing on me, you continue to keep me motivated and inspired. I need that for the next 9 years. It may never get better (although we pray that it will) but you need to be bigger than me when I am feeling defeated. You need to remind me that we have less than 9 years. I need you to understand that you will now be faced to deal with some of the frustrations, back and forth or drama. Are you okay with that? This is my reality. Ask yourself whether or not you believe that Munch and I are worth it?
  3. Respect my neurotic need to delay marriage. My girlfriend told me years ago that every delay is not a denial. I love you and I can’t imagine a life without you in it, but I’m just not ready to get married again. Yet. I love how you respect my wish to set a wedding date for the fall of 2020. It shows that you know that we’re not going anywhere. We’re willing to take the time to invest and cultivate our relationship in our own time. You totally respect the fact that I love being in the G-spot (girlfriend spot). But, ask yourself would you be okay with that should I want to move a wedding date closer or later?
  4. Know that I need you to lead. I am so tired of being superwoman and I need you to lead us. As a couple and a family. I told you before that I would follow a man to the end’s of the earth if I knew that God was leading him and God told me to follow. I can’t do everything. I feel like I have to do everything and sometimes it gets so overwhelming. I can’t do it all – without consequences and sacrifices. As a partner, I shouldn’t have too. I need you to know what I’m asking of you. Ask yourself whether or not you are ready to be superman?
  5. I am not her and you are not him. I know that we’ve both had experiences and relationships that may not have been the best, but surely we’ve learned the lessons that we were supposed to learn. Everything in life is meant to teach a lesson. Sometimes we listen and learn and sometimes we’re not that smart. Whatever the case, I need you to know that I’m not her. I’m not the one that may have broken your trust or family or anything else. I’m me. I also want to assure you that I know that you are not him. I will never compare you to anyone else or tell you that you are just like such and such. You’re not. I know this. You will never pay for the mistakes of anyone before you. I vow to communicate openly and honestly about all things knowing that you love me and what we’re building. I need you to ask yourself are you truly over your past relationships with your exes?

Life isn’t perfect. I know this. I’m not expecting perfection. I’m just expecting that two people that love each other will work together as a unit to build a strong foundation that will support us and our family for years to come. I vow to speak life into you and our family and all our dreams just like it says in Proverbs…

Proverbs 18:21 (NRSV) Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits.

Do you want to participate in Victor’s Open Letter challenge? Check out his blog: Victor’s Corner and participate. I would love to hear what you have to say.

 

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Reblog: Any Questions?

As I’m gearing up for Mother’s Day on Sunday, I wanted to share a series of posts about my experiences being a mother. First up is this one when I was pregnant with Munch. This post was originally shared on January 25, 2008.  I was about 20 weeks pregnant and having complications. We had to go and see a specialist after I spent the weekend in the hospital.  I was married to Munch’s dad and this was our first child, so we were both quite nervous. Some more than others…

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LT and I went to see a Maternal and Fetal Medicine Specialist regarding the shortening of my cervix and the development of the baby’s brain. The doctor said everything was fine with the baby and the brain stem and flap looked normal.  I thanked God. We got the cutest pictures of the baby in my stomach.

The hospital had told us last week the sex of the baby. We knew we were having a boy, I was right all along, but LT decided to question the sonographer. LT: “Are you sure it’s a boy because I heard that sometimes sonograms can be wrong”. Sonographer: “Here’s the penis and here’s the scrotum, any questions”.

LT was truly annoying the sonographer yesterday. She would say, “The fluid levels in the sac look normal” and LT would then ask “So, the fluid levels in the sac look normal?”. I asked him “Why are you repeating everything she says and then asking it like you just didn’t hear her? He said, “I just want to be sure of what I am hearing.” It frustrated the hell out of me.  I told him to bring a video camera next time so we can record it and he can play it back later. Without a doubt I am married to the craziest man in the world.

 

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Temporary

She was temporary. She knew it. He never committed to spending time with her until the last minute. He was always so busy.

It was either work, family or parenting responsibilities that consumed his time. He wanted her to understand. She understood. She understood that she was temporary.

He was a successful business man. Never talked about his past and always lived in the present. He had no time for deep discussions on the state of the union, climate or world issues. Too busy to travel for pleasure. Too many work commitments. Can’t make a charity gala with her sorority. He had to take his son to practice.

She was supposed to understand that she had landed a good one. He was smart, funny and wealthy. He treated her fine, but fine wasn’t good enough. She wanted sparks. She wanted chemistry. She wanted more.

She wanted a man that seemed interested in what she had going on. She didn’t want to make temporary plans or be temporary in anyone’s life. She wanted permanency. She needed it.

His kisses said he desired. His touch was warm and inviting. But, that wasn’t enough. His heart was cold. He wanted no long term plans with her. He couldn’t even lie to her to make her believe that they had a future, but she knew. She sighed.

She sealed her good bye letter with a kiss from her red lips. She loved the gifts. She loved the man she met that night.

But she knew she was a temporary reprieve from his chaotic life. Being a mistress was always temporary. There could be no future from someone else’s husband.

Today’s post is inspired by the Daily Post. The word prompt of the day was temporary

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.