This time of my life was fun. I was enjoying and relishing freedom, being happy, enjoying my partner and not being under any one's thumb. I had a job, a great guy, great friends and still no children.
I had seen Jeff. He was in love and going to marry a beautiful girl. I was so happy for him, he deserved the best. Callie and Alan were back in the area. Alan had just opened or was about to open his practice and Callie was either pregnant with, or the first of their two beautiful girls was already born, (Oprah, trying to be as factual as possible. I don't want a beat down on the air). Jeff and I played together a few times, we were a little rusty but we each had a million new tunes and riffs to show each other. Jeff was also beginning to have serious health issues from diabetes. He was diagnosed when we were just kids.
Still, I wanted those children. Bart and I were very compatible except for a few things. He loved to camp. I loved room service. He loved to be outside. I loved air conditioning. He loved Neil Diamond's Forever In Blue Jeans. I thought Neil should have his recording license revoked for that song. Bart wanted to be a millionaire with no clearly defined plan to accomplish that goal. I wanted to live within my means, a larger means, but a defined means none the less, raise a family and be an adult.
The print shop sold. We were to be the in-house shop for a telemarketing company. We would retain our small customer base but mainly we were working for the telemarketing company. I had not had a raise in years so I decided with my newly found spine that I would ask for one. I went to see the owner, this was around the 1st of December 1981, and explained what a valuable employee I was, that I deserved a raise, a substantial raise. He explained that I was welcome to work nights in the marketing area selling magazines. I advised him I would rather shave my tongue. He explained to me that he hoped the door knob did not hurt when I left.
I had just been fired. After six years I was unemployed. I decided I would dust off the guitar, talk to Jeff see if we could get some gigs. That would be a little money. Zelda and I had started making and selling Christmas decorations, she is very artistic, and as a result I was scrapping by. I was also starting to always have cramps. Not bad, just constant and discomfort in my lower back.
I remember New Year's Eve being fun. Bart and I went to a party and left early to ring in the New Year alone and naked. I was 28 years old. I had always wanted to be 28. I was born on the 28th day of the month and in my OCD world that was a sign that 28 would be a banner year. Everything would come together.
Late in January I was at Bart's and started having impossible to handle pain and bleeding. Then I started vomiting. This was on a Saturday night. "Let me take you to the hospital", insisted Bart. "NO", no insurance, no job, no money. "Take me to my parent's tomorrow, dad has some pills that will help with the pain and I will ask them to pay for a doctor appointment on Monday".
By Monday the bleeding and pain had mostly stopped. I decided I'd better see the doctor anyway, the pain had been so intense something had to be, not wrong, different. When I was in "the position" with the bright spotlight and the doctor and nurse between my legs, my doctor's head popped up. "I know what's wrong with you", he laughed, "you're pregnant. Looks like about 3 months". I propped myself up on my elbows. "Did you hear my symptoms, HEAVY bleeding and cramping?" "First pregnancies are always different some women have periods through the first trimester". The nurse nodded in agreement. "But I don't feel pregnant". Whatever that might feel like. "Have you been exposed?" my doctor asked. "I have been overexposed", I said. The doctor did explain that some of my symptoms were odd and that maybe I was trying to "spontaneously abort" the fetus but we were going to try and save this baby. I said, "as long as we are all gathered at my crotch, let's get my pap smear out of the way". We did, then they drew blood and I peed in the cup for the official pregnancy test. The doctor said I should stay in bed until all the test results were back. He would see me in a week then he would send me to the OB/GYN. Oh, and get some prenatal vitamins.
I was stunned, and thrilled, and excited and crying when I walked back in to my parent's house. "We're going to have a baby here for Christmas. I am PREGNANT!" I didn't care about moral retributions from anyone. I WAS GOING TO BE A MOMMY. Unless of course there was a problem but for now I was going to revel in being PREGNANT. This was on Monday.
Friday afternoon late my dad called. He wanted to know how I was feeling. Really? That's weird. He asked me what I wanted. "I want this baby", I said. "Well, what would be the worst outcome if this baby isn't viable?" WHAT? "Well, I guess learning I had cancer and not a baby that would make life worthless." I laughed, I was trying to lighten the mood with my fabulous sense of humor.
I should have been a doctor. My parents already knew. I had cervical cancer. The pap smear had come back a "5". I think technically that means, "you won't be having a uterus anymore".
Dad was just quiet. "Come by here Monday before you go back to the doctor, we want to hear the test results with you". "You don't have to do that dad, I am sure this is not making you happy but I really want to be a parent" I said. Poor Dad. His unmarried, pregnant, embarassment of a daughter must make his skin crawl. "Just come here on Monday, OK?"
I remembered that prayer, the one where I thanked God for seeing me through the worst episode of my life.
I HATE BEING WRONG.
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