Monday, September 20, 2010

Until the Well Runs Dry

I have a beautiful life. I truly do. This life will take on an entriely new meaning in March. I will no longer be just a daughter and a wife. I will be a mother. With that title come so many hopes and fears and with those hopes and fears, an onset of emotion. I am and have always been my mother’s child. Along with the many wonderful traits of hers I carry, I wear my heart on my sleeve. While I have never been ashamed of this inability to hide my feelings, I was unprepared for the avalanche of emotions that would rush through me as I serve my term as a human incubator.
I have read in the many many pregnancy books in the stack beside my bed how hormones will send me into a whirlwind of emotions; and I will admit I have shut my office door a few times while crying over absolutely nothing, but I had not experienced the uncontrollable, loud, sobbing crying that leaves one gasping for air until last night. I sat on the bed, folding laundry and flipping through the movie channels. I came across one I had wanted to see for a while: Everybody’s Fine with Robert DeNiero and Drew Barrymore. It looked like it would be a funny, light-hearted story about a dad who travels the country visiting his four grown children. It is one of the most heartbreaking movies I have ever seen. Blame it on the hormones if you will, but I cried uncontrollably throughout the entire movie.
It begins with a recently widowed man preparing for his four children to come visit him for the weekend. One by one, they all cancel for one reason or another, so he decides (against his doctor’s orders) to go on a trip to surprise them all. He starts in NYC then to Chicago then to Denver then finally Las Vegas. None of them can take the time to visit with their sweet dad. The kid in NYC never even comes home. **Spoiler Alert** They have all lied to him about the details of their lives (the Chicago “conductor” is really only a drummer, his “happily married” daughter in Denver is separated from her husband after he had an affair, his dancer daughter in Vegas not only has an infant son he knew nothing about but also has a girlfriend, and we learn that the artist in NYC is in a Mexican prison on drug charges).  Heartbroken and exhausted, he flies home from Vegas only to have a heart attack on the plane and wake up with three of the four children by his side. When he asks about the missing son (the one in the Mexican prison) his children finally tell him the truth: he overdosed and died. Really? This movie should come with a warning label: Not Suitable for Hormonal Pregnant Women.
It left me hoping that our children are never too busy for us. It left me wondering when the last time was I told my parents how much I love them. It left me in utter disbelief that the world into which I am bringing this child could be so heartless. I much prefer the movies where life is beautifully and unrealistically uncomplicated. I choose that world.

Needless to say, I spent the greater part of last night clutching the dog and going through half a box of Kleenex. I then called my Dad to remind him just how much I love him, ate a giant cookie and watched Glee to clear the horror from my mind. Just typing this is making me tear up again. After this and last week's My Sister's Keeper incident, lesson learned! I will only be allowed to watch Disney movies from now until I’m guessing forever because I am an endless fountain of tears and I’m not really expecting that to go away any time soon.
Man, pregnancy sure is fun.

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