This week has been less than optimal. Thing One had been looking forward to a trip to Wahooz for the past, oh, 3 months or so, with a pal of his...and a fever struck, last night. He's goofy as all get-out right now, but not in a happy way. His buddy Harrison had invited him to go for laser tag, etc., all the way back in January, and now, he's got whatever this crud is that I had, over a week ago. John (a.k.a. Thing Two) has had it, most of this last week- he coughed most of every night this week, and has been miserable. I can personally verify that, as I've not slept well for over a week myself...I was praying for Dunc to be immune, but it was not to be. (I had it, but worked anyway. It's what I do. That "grownup" thing. It bites. My darling husband, Mark, told me today that yeah, I had a fever, too, and he tried to tell me...but I didn't look like I was going to stop from what I was doing, at the time, so off to work I went, anyway! He's right. I'm unrelenting, when it comes to work ethic, to my own detriment. I just do stuff. It's that Taurus thing- tunnel vision, plus stubborn = it gets DONE. Maybe not well, but it does.) Dunc's heartbroken AND in bad shape, because he's wanting to go to the party, but ill enough to wish for it to be different, and miserable enough to cry, knowing it's hopeless. He also has a conscience, thank God- he understands that it's a horrible idea to expose anyone else of his age to whatever the heck this is, or worse, anyone a lot older. My heart is breaking for him, because he was sick the LAST time he was invited to a party- poor kid!
Also this week: discovered what perimenopause means. I'm trying to come to terms with this. It's not that I see this as a negative thing- I don't. No more periods- yeah, bring it on! But it's a new thing to work out. This is new territory for me. And I just discovered the world of childbearing! (OK, it was ten years ago, but still- in just over 40 years of life, that WAS recent! Since Thing One was born, time has seriously sped up!)
I'm glad that others have charted this landscape, before me, and that we live in an age where women can GET this information, that it's not verboten anymore. My mom didn't have anyone to ask, at her time- she's part of the Silent Generation (the one before the Baby Boomers that no one seems to know about, born during the early part of WW2). *Her* mom was 38 when she had my mom, the surprise baby, after 4 sons. Grandma Duncan was born in 1904. She had mom in 1942. I was born in 1971. It's the same for my husband's side of the family- his mom and dad adopted, later in life. We're the products of late family-making.
(An aside: if anyone can help us, with tracking down his birth mom or possible siblings, we would really appreciate it- please, contact me! He was born in Portland, OR on May 23.1967, and his birth certificate appears to be falsified in a number of ways. He's undergone genetic testing, and most closely matches the current population of Turkey. His birth mother was named Coffman, and his father was supposedly a police officer in Oregon. According to the birth certificate, his mom was 20 when he was born, and he already had a four brothers at birth, by the same father- anybody else having questions there? Not impossible, but.... Even his real <read: the one who raised him> mom says that that doesn't jibe with the situation, but she claims ignorance on the subject...she won't talk about it very much. He was born one year before state law made it mandatory to either leave contact information, or to give a family history of health issues, in Oregon, if a child was put up for adoption. Unfair, arbitrary. But mostly unfair, for my fella. He's heard, via his mom-who-brought-him-up, his real Mom, that there were brothers present, in the hospital, other kids who were, well, his brothers. His birth-father was there. His birth-mother was there. There are siblings, out there, even if the parents aren't still alive. But we can't find them. He's a decent fella, a good person, and he wants to know them, his other family. His sister, Deidre, knows who her birth-people were, having been born very nearly the same day as I was.We'd also like to know, for the sake of our kids. There's some health risks, from the known side of the genetics- we'd like to be able to warn the boys, if it's from more than one side.)
I was 32 when I found out that Thing One, who'd never even seemed to be a possibility (well, I thought I was sterile) was going to be joining us. I barely tolerated the crap about how I was of "advanced maternal age" throughout the pregnancy- seriously, 32 was old? But now, Thing One is 9, and he'll be 10 soon....Sometimes, it makes me sad. I live in Idaho, where a lot of people know their great, and even great-great, grandparents. This wasn't a possibility, for me or my kids- my grandmothers were both of advanced age by the time I was in my teens. My kids have never known either of their grandfathers, and as to great-grandparents? Gone, long before their births. Before mine. Sometimes, it's hard to explain to the kids, because their peers do have those family members, plenty of extended family. And some days, like today, when I've come to the realization that this is IT, there's almost no possibility that there will be more children (and it would be stupid as hell to have more, at this point, all thing considered), it's hard to take. I don't feel like I'll be less of a woman, or any of the other things I've heard that women feel when this hits. I am fine with the damned chin hairs, and the erratic period, the hot flashes and lack of sleep, and even the crazy mood swings (although, I am laughing as I type this, my family is definitely NOT enjoying that part). I could give two shits as to all of the "but I won't be a GIRL anymore!" crap- I'm already there. But I look at the history, what's there, and I feel...just a little sad. Should we have..? Wouldn't it have been...? A daughter...? Dunc always begged for a little sister. So has John. It's too late. It's too risky, now. I'm glad that my brother has a daughter. Someone has to take on the inheritances that are designated for girls, in our lineage. I failed to supply that. I hope that Alivia, my niece, will be OK with it- she's stuck with it, poor kid. She's stuck with that family Bible, in ancient German, with the spiky bits, and all of the the crap that I was supposed to inherit, and did not want. As for my kids, I hope that they'll be Men. The real thing. Not Assholes, or Guys. Not Bros, either. MEN. I have a definition for that, and it's stringent. They will have to live up to that. (Thank me later, women of the future!)
On a personal level, this looks like what people call midlife crisis. I laugh, but I'm hurting. I've cried a couple of times tonight, and people that know me would tell you- I DON'T CRY. Even in a major crisis, and I've had some. Not my bag. Somehow, I don't think that buying a fancy car will fix it, much less any of the other cliches. So much for an equal-opportunity midlife crisis! (Not that I could afford one- I covered groceries, this weekend, and see that as a bonus.) I guess I just feel...tired. And sad. There will not be any more babies. And while I already knew that, I feel....I will miss that possibility. Those of you who have them, or have had them, you know. There is an absence, where there was once one at the breast. There will be no more babies. Not from me.
Tomorrow, I will be OK with "no" to all of those questions. Today, I'm not so sure. Thank God it's Family Movie Night. I don't want the ones that are here, to see me cry.