I was talking with some friends tonight about our moms and how much of a help or a lack of help they were when we became mothers for the first time. It brought back so many memories for me of when I had Bugster. Good memories. Thankful memories. Memories that stand out louder and stronger than most memories I have.
The Hubster was in the US Marine Corps and stationed in North Carolina. We were 2500 miles from home, and I'd never been so far from family before in my life. We moved down a week before my due date. That was not a fun flight, and I know now they caution against flying that late in pregnancy, but I was so very thankful that my husband would be present for the birth of our first child. Especially since he'd been gone on a deployment for six of the months I was pregnant. I was ecstatic!
We ended up getting approved for base housing, because we'd gotten on the wait list when I first found out I was pregnant. And we ended up in a very rare situation. We were in an actual house that was detached from any other dwelling. Most base housing consists of townhouses that have what seem at the time to be hollow walls, so to have a brand new baby in a place that afforded us privacy was priceless.
Hubster was deployed just months after we were married. We'd been in a furnished place for those few months before he deployed. When he left on the deployment, I went back home and lived with my parents. So when we went back to NC the week before our daughter's due date, we had nothing for furniture. We literally slept on blankets on a concrete floor. A couple of weeks later, we ended up buying excess furniture from a mobile home seller.
We were able to get a couch, chair, table with 4 chairs, a full sized headboard and full sized mattress and box spring for $500. At the time, it was all we could afford. The quality of the furniture was beyond cheap. Still. We were thrilled. We had a place to sit. A place to eat. And a place to sleep. It was enough.
About then, my mom came to help out. We thought for sure that the baby would come any day, since she was already almost a week late, but she didn't make her appearance for another week. So Mom helped me make baby blankets on the new sewing machine we got with our first tax return. She taught me how to make a self ruffle, a skill I've used several times over the years, she altered curtains she'd brought with her to fit the windows in the house, and she helped make the house feel like home.
Bugster decided to come a few days after Mom got there. So we headed up to the hospital. All 3 of us crammed in the front of our Subaru Brat. Remember those? They were two seat shortened pickup trucks that resembled a shortened El Camino. Although many of them had seats installed in the bed of the truck, ours didn't. They were just sort of an odd vehicle. They weren't quite a truck, but they definitely weren't a car.
At any rate, we got to the hospital, and I had our daughter. I'll spare you the details of what happened. We had a baby. That about sums it up.
Anyway, the time came for us to come home from the hospital. And why we didn't call for a cab, I have no idea to this day. None of us do. And that little two seater didn't have quite as many seats as we needed. Bugster's car seat needed to be in one of the two seats, and of course someone needed to drive. But Mom didn't know the town, so she had no idea how to get home, and I'd just had a c-section, so I couldn't drive. So The Hubster got the only other seat, and we started the long journey home.
Ok. So it wasn't that long. Maybe ten miles. But Mom and I had crawled into the back of the Brat, and there wasn't a soft place in sight. We couldn't really sit, because the topper was low enough there wasn't room. So Mom and I were semi-reclined on top of the spare tire and other crap that was in the back of the Brat. And we got the giggles, because when I'm with my mom, and things are on the stressful side, we tend to get the giggles.
So we made that long trek home, hitting every single bump in the road, me holding my stomach and groaning in pain every time we drove over a leaf, and laughing at the absurdity of it all. And then holding my stomach in pain from the laughing. It was either laugh or cry from the pain. Did I mention I giggle when I'm stressed?
When we finally arrived home, we had to wait for The Hubster to get Bugster's car seat out of the Brat and then open the back end, so Mom and I could get out. Knowing that we were bringing the baby home from the hospital, the neighbors had gathered around to see our little bundle of joy.
Imagine their surprise when The Hubster's wife who had just given birth, and his mother-in-law crawled out of the back of the Brat. The looks on their faces were priceless. And as much pain as I was in at the time, it was seriously one of the funniest things I've ever experienced.
To this day, none of us know why we didn't call a cab.
I think it's, because we needed this memory.
It's definitely one we'll never forget.
Compulsive hoarding is a mental disorder that is just beginning to be understood. As a hoarder, I have acquired things over the years with a specific purpose in mind at the time of the acquisition, used some of those items for their intended purposes, forgotten the goal for different objects, but now that I find that they have outlived their purpose in my life I am struggling to rid myself of those same things.
You can read the start of my journey here.