Railroaded

Ok, one thing I haven't mentioned that much are the trains.  The trains are just AWFUL! I have been stuck at this train for a half an hour now. While I appreciate the downtime, my boss at the mall is going to start to get peeved if I don't show up to work soon. 

They always seem to show up at the most inopportune times, like when I am running late for work or a movie or when I have to pee.

As I sit here eating milk duds and listening to showtunes,  it doesn't seem so bad. I have the windows down and the weather's nice so I am going to enjoy the remaining moments of peace until I have to paste a smile on my face while helping last minute shoppers look for Mother's Day gifts. 

When I first moved here, I remember telling my teens that I have started to get "trained" all the time and I never know what to do. One of them turned bright red and said "No, Lainie, no! Who else have you said the to?"

"I don't know, anyone else I talk to, I guess. "

He violently shook his head and looked to his friend for guidance. Sensing my confusion he tried to explain in the most appropriate way that saying I get "trained" all the time is like telling people that I get gang-banged on a regular basis.

Poor guy. No kid should ever have to tell an adult that they sound like a slut.

I learned a new word that day: railroaded.

Looks like the train is moving so I will get on my way to selling moderately priced soaps...it is my calling for one more day.

Friends in Low Places

Prue wasn't taking no for an answer.

After spending an hour and half in my car trying to stop crying earlier tonight, I drove to Cheeseburger In Paradise to meet the girls for karaoke. I pulled into my parking spot and wiped frantically at my eyes  and decided that maybe I wouldn't go in tonight and was ready to head home when CeeCee pulled up right next to me.

She comforted me for a while and then agreed when I told her I was gonna go home. I asked her to get Prue so that I could see her before I left and that was my first mistake.

When she walked to my car, Prue looked like a woman on a mission and if I were smart, I should have hit the gas and I would for sure be spending an evening at home.

Prue had other ideas.

In the time it took her to walk out to my car, she had convinced CeeCee that the best place for me to be was with friends and like I said, she was not taking no for an answer.

Once inside, I did have a good time. It didn't take my mind off Isaiah and all the things going on with me, it did make me feel better.

We spent our time being karaoke regulars (which is much cooler than it sounds), complete with laying claim to songs, swooning over the group that comes in every week to sing boy band songs and commenting on the vocal improvement our fellow singers have made over the last six months.

By 10 o'clock, we were treated to the rhythmic stylings of an incredibly awkward girl that may have been drunk. Then we named her Drawkward.

I laughed for the first time in at least a week. And I laughed a lot.

I even played the part of Drawkward when her and some friends sang "Fantastic Voyage" while trying not to laugh. CeeCee wasn't so lucky. She cried her eyes out from laughing by the time I got back to the table.

By the time I got in my car to drive home, I had a smile on my face and I was singing under my breathe.

Though Drawkward helped, having friends that know what I need may have just made my week.

I just wanna feel normal again

I have been crying or on the verge of crying for the last few days. Since Isaiah's birthday I have been falling apart more and more.

These two weeks are the worst.

Every year from April 29th until Mother's Day, I am a complete wreck. It takes so much work to function properly, but somehow (definitely by the grace of God), I manage.

This is the time of year that I relive EVERYTHING. I don't try to, the memories just keep flooding back and in an instant I am 23, post-partum, feeling abandoned and looking for a clue as to what comes next.

I still looked pregnant a week later and I remember waiting for a bus when a man asking when I was due (rude!) and I broke down crying and told him about Isaiah, the adoption and the stupid cow of a nurse that made me carry him out. When the bus came, he didn't get on. I don't blame him.

I was in Target with friends when I started lactating and I had a melt down as they frantically searched for boob pads.

I didn't think I could take anymore of this.

I remember wanting to end it, but I couldn't bear what that would do to Isaiah once he was old enough to understand. 

The day I had to sign over my rights,  Isaiah was a week old. The clerk explained to me in everyway she knew how that this was irrevocable. That no matter what the Strides has promised,  I would have no rights to Isaiah and Illinois does not recognize open adoption agreements.

I will admit that it felt like hours until I signed the papers,  but once my pen left the paper, I remember feeling like I would survive this.  I didn't know how or when, I just knew that I would.

When the day comes when I can say that I have, I will let you know.

Looking back,  I know I have come incredibly far. Little by little I have been able to move on with my life.

Moving to Terre Haute was a huge step because I have never been more than 45 minutes away from Isaiah and his family. I lost touch for a while,  and I felt both miserable and free not being someone's birthmom even for a little bit.

Though I have no regrets, it sometimes cripples me that I can't shake this title and I am pretty sure my self esteem won't recover from the hit it took while earning it.

I am always going to be Isaiah's birthmom. Though I am in no way ashamed of him, I am still ashamed of me. In my mind I am always going to have to live down the decisions I made almost eleven years ago. 

Don't get me wrong, there are times when I am fine. When I can talk to him on the phone or visit without falling apart. There are times when I can share my story with more peace than I know what to do with.

This is not one of those times.

I know I am not in a good place.

This place is as dark as it is cramped. Only room for me and Jesus, he'll lead me out when I'm ready.

Just pray for me.

Playing Catch-Up Part Two

After my Christmas in New York, my family and I hopped on our much delayed flight back to Chicago where my Uncle and Mona were waiting for us at Midway.

Before heading home, I made sure to visit with Sunny. We walked around my old neighborhood and went to Starbuck’s (my Starbuck’s!) and the boutique where I used to work. The owner was there and we caught up for a bit and I bought a t-shirt, a funky ring and a poster with the map of Paris (kind of obsessed with Paris right now) and he gave me a discount! Yep, gays love me!

Sunny and I got a chance to catch up and we talked about the holy homework I received from Sister Felicia and how long I was gonna wait to get it done. Peter joined us not too long after that and we proceeded to spend way too long catching up and being ridiculous meaning I was not gonna get back home until close to midnight.

I made the journey back to my Hoosier home and started thinking about my day with Sunny and Peter, how much I miss having them, how much I miss having a boutique within walking distance and the soothing rumble of the brown line train in the distance.

I miss it. A lot.

But I really can’t see myself moving back.

While driving, I realized that while I wasn’t looking, I have made Terre Haute my home and I though I didn’t have Sunny and Peter and boutiques and a Starbuck’s that was mine, I do have Sassy, my girls from the show and Mark. I am making new memories with them and though we all can’t read each other’s thoughts and know what’s going on with just one look, I have a feeling that we’re getting there. I also knew that I had my girl’s at the Gap and while I know it is not a boutique, they know me by name, put things aside they knew I would like and give me discounts whenever they can.

And I have a Java Haute that is more mine than the Montrose Brown Line Starbuck’s ever was.

I live here now and I really am OK with that.

Flash forward four months: I do officially live here. It took me a year and a half, but I (finally) got my Indiana driver’s license yesterday. So yes, I am a Hoosier now. But don’t worry, I will try not to assimilate too much…well, I am selling Thirty-One and I don’t wear heels as much. Umm…is it too late to get my Illinois license back?

Love you, Chicago, I just can't keep you!

I spent the drive home trying to figure our ways to make Terre Haute awesome so that I would actually consider staying here long term (more long term than the original two years I gave myself) and all I could keep thinking was add a Target and subtract one Wal-Mart.

Though it was late, the drive home was good. I listened to the Blogess’ audio book (hilarious), did some reflecting and even decided to do my holy homework.

Yep, I called Ralph and asked him to meet me for coffee for the next time I was in town.