Gemini's Twins

 Yes, it's true. 

That word on that stick is the whole truth. Well, not the whole truth because not only am I pregnant (oh goodness!), I'm pregnant with twins (pass me the shotgun). 

I feel too old to be pregnant. Now, I know 33 is nowhere near old but you have to understand that I've been doing this mommy thing for the last 17 years; I got started about 10 years ahead of schedule. So while I am technically a 33-year-old mom; I feel more like a 43-year-old mom. I'm exhausted. And for the last four weeks I've been wrestling with what I'm going to do. 

Yes, for the last four weeks, I've considered an abortion, strongly considered an abortion. Was 98% sure that was the route I was going to take. I made that doctor's appointment with the hope that the choice would be taken out of my hands-- that there would have been a case for termination that would have sat at ease with my conscience. But, while sitting in that doctor's chair, greatly unenthused with the thought of becoming a mother the third time, I made the decision that I was going to abort no matter what was on that ultrasound monitor. 

And then I saw two bubbles. I hoped I didn't see two. The doctor moved the ultrasound wand around in grave silence and a flutter of hope entered my chest. Maybe something was wrong. I mentally prepared what I was going to say to the doctor, that this was ok, this was how it was meant to be-- a wakeup call to take better care of myself. 

Finally the doctor spoke after clearing his throat. He said the machine was too grainy for him to be clear about what's going on. I told him that I thought I might have an ectopic because I had no real pregnancy symptoms other than fatigue and a missing period. He said, no, definitely not ectopic. He said, I'm just going to go ahead and tell you what I see; I see two. I said that I saw the same thing and asked if the bubbles were empty. I mean, they looked empty, really empty. Just two bubbles. 

But he said, no there's definitely something in each. And he zoomed in to each bubble and I could see the beginnings of a baby in them both. Then he zoomed further in each one and the heartbeats patterned in peaks and plateaus across the bottom of the screen. I just stared, hope replaced by resignation. I mean, I had my mind made up to terminate the one but it just wouldn't be fair to abort two. I don't know why that changed things but it did.

And now I'm in freakout mode and it keeps hitting me that I'm starting over. I was four years away from having struggled to raise two kids to adulthood and here I am starting all the way over times two.

God help me.

QoMV

Impotent Potential

So it happened again. Another kid blurted out in the middle of class, "Why are you teaching". Now, at first, I thought she meant, why did I stand up to help them w/ the songwriting lesson but, when she repeated herself w/ such a look of bewilderment/disappointment, I felt like I was sitting back in freshmen orientation when my mother turned to me and asked me why I picked education and not business as a major. My answer then is my answer now, it was the easiest "choice". I filled out my college/job application, bubbled the first thing I saw, and stuck it in the mailbox. Not too much later, I was accepted/hired.

But, really, the answer is as it was then, I'm too lazy to do anything else. How do I tell a kid I'm pushing that I settled and am not living up to my "potential" yet I'm not doing anything to change it? How do I tell my grandfather that I'm not following his direction, that I've allowed the blanket of complacency to stifle my drive and my dreams?

What I'm dealing with is bigger than procrastination; it's me. I'm my problem. I've spent so much of my life trying to do/be opposite of what people tell me to do/be that it's ingrained in my brain. I've heard, "You're wasting your potential" through all of my school life and, now, 15 years after I graduated, I'm hearing it again from my own students, kids younger than me. But now, (here come the excuses) I have real responsibilities. I can't just up and go jump feet first into the fading flood of my dreams; I have kids to take care of, that I take care of-- all by myself. I've got bills that need paying: rent, insurances, internet, food, car, etc. I can't just abandon ship. That's not what a real responsible adult does. Besides, those kids need me as a teacher; I can reach them and be there for them through their times of need.


But what about my needs and my responsibility to myself? I don't know. Am I entitled to even think that way? I don't know. Would my kids be better off with a mother who's struggling to fulfill a dream instead of one who's just struggling to fill their bellies?

I just don't know.

Yet, I teach my students to aim high. I demand near academic perfection from my kids (I'm afraid I'll be stuck at my current salary and my oldest is off to college in just two years so he needs to pull his weight to make sure scholarships come his way). I tell my colleagues to go for their desires, to place their talents in areas that feed their passion. Meanwhile, I sit on my bed with the glaring computer screen as my only source of light, counting the pennies that comprise my paycheck while trying not to think of the bills, which exceed my income, that are due.

I really need to practice what I preach.

QoMV