Tag Archives: marriage
April 16, 2012 

Oh Baby: Why I’d Like You To Stay Out Of My Uterus

2011 was the Year of The Wedding. HomieLoverFriend and I attended 7 I believe, including our own shindig in August. Though we still have about 4 to attend this summer, 2012 is quickly turning into the Year of The Baby Shower. I can’t count how many friends and family have announced pregnancies, shared ultrasound pics, sent out invites for showers, or gave birth to their own little bundles of joy in the last few months – but it’s most definitely a happy time for a lot of folks around me.

HOWEVER. I have a Public Service Announcement to make: Please stay out of my uterus.

As a newlywed, I’ve had to deal with the timelines others have tried to impose on me and mine. Commentary about us taking too long to get engaged turned into conversations about how long we would take to walk down the aisle. That task being done, now we face the inevitable “When are you having children?” discussions – and I hate it. I’ve always detested the idea of others thinking I needed to do things based on their time frames, but lately I’ve reached a new stage of loathing with the incessant baby questions.

I know (or would hope) that people inquire and ask about baby plans with nothing but good intentions. People love nothing more than to see two happy, in love, got-their-sh*t-together people come together and create new life. With all the bad in the world, I know folks just want to feel something good – and what could be gooder (I’m using that word – fight me) than a beautiful, healthy, cuddly, baby-powder-scented infant to shower love upon? I know this. I understand this. So every time I get asked “When are you having kids?” or “What’s taking you so long?” or my personal fave “You’re not getting any younger, you know?” – I try to hope that good intentions are at the root.

Do I want kids? Absolutely. Does every woman want children? Nope. Is every woman who wants to bear children physically capable of doing so? Sadly, no. Do you know how many miscarriages a woman may have had to deal with in her quest to be a mom? No – you don’t. Do women who are trying to conceive know exactly how long it’ll take? Hell no.

Think about it. You may be (unknowingly) making assumptions and  imposing your values on someone who doesn’t share them. Or, you may be ripping the bandage off of a wound that hasn’t healed.  That woman you just asked may just be coming to grips with the miscarriage she had, or reeling from that doctor’s appointment last week that confirmed that she or her partner is infertile. On top of that, you could be adding pressure and stress to the woman who is trying to conceive. With all of the ovulation charting, prenatal vitamin taking, dietary restrictions, and scheduled sexing, something that is supposed to be natural feels anything but. When you asked her “What’s taking you guys so long?”, she may have just gotten her period – and she’s devastated because she thought this month would be “it”.

I used to be primarily sensitive to the fact that not every woman wants children. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that there are so many other factors at play that could make the topic of parenting especially sensitive. And now, I find myself having a specific reason to feel that way, other than my general dislike of doing things when others think I should do them. Without going into to much detail right now, I will share that I had a cancer scare recently. A scare that luckily is not thought to be cancer (final confirmation will be with the biopsy results in a couple weeks), but does require pokes and prods and tests and treatment plans that direct me to WebMD for somewhat reassuring info. With the irony of life, it would only make sense that the abnormal test result that set this all off would come up just as HomieLoverFriend and I decided to throw our hats in the parenting ring. Just as I was 100% ready to jump in, life snatched me back and said “Hol’ up! Hol’ up! Hol’ up! Hol’ up!” like Big Sean and ‘em. Thankfully, the doctors have said my treatment will not affect my ability to have a baby, but will most definitely delay the plans that were already in (fun and sexy) motion. Time to regroup, do what needs to be done, and jump back on the baby-makin’ train when the time is right. I’m OK with that – as long as I keep the “what ifs” at bay and hope for the best.

Anyways, let me bring it full circle. I say all of this just to remind people that the discussion around babies and whether to have them or not is always going to be one that requires kid gloves when handling. When you REALLY get down to the rooty and the tooty, if you aren’t helping with Jr’s college fund or offering to babysit when Mama and Daddy need to go out on the town, is it really your business? So – put your kid gloves on before you ask the question, or don’t ask at all. I’m sure you’ll get your answer eventually, one way or another.

What do y’all think? Are you also constantly on the receiving end of parenting questions? How do you handle it? Do you have any fears with regards to being a parent? For those who have a child – do you get asked when you’re going to have another? Speak on it!

February 14, 2012 

August 1, 2010: Best Valentine’s Day EVER

Finally, it’s arrived. The day that department stores have been ramming down our throats since approximately December 26th – Valentine’s Day. As of tomorrow, the pink and red will be replaced with shades of green as the store promotions turn to St. Patrick’s Day, but for today, let’s indulge in love :)

I figured today would be a good day for this post. As you may recall, I recently posted a story about the Proposal That Wasn’t – but today, I’ll share with you the Proposal That Was. It was exactly 1.5 years ago that Homieloverfriend put a ring on it, so in commemoration of our first married folks’ V-Day, I’ll fill you in on how things went down.

Keep in mind one important thing: I am obsessed with the old TV show Martin. I know every episode and can recite the script word for word. Martin is NOT a game to me. Just remember that. Ok – here we go:

Caribana '10

It was August 1st, 2010. We had just jumped up in Caribana ’10 the day before, and planned to spend that day (which was our 3rd anniversary for the 2nd time – another story for another day) relaxing with each other and winding down from the bacchanal of the parade. Being that it was our anniversary, HLF said he had something special planned, so I sat back and enjoyed the ride. We ran to the west end to HLF’s bro-in-law’s church, then ran back to the east for lunch. The day started off relatively normal, but this dude completely annoyed me by not putting his phone down for one minute while he drove, then confused me by stopping at gas stations for strange things. Add to the fact that he seemed to have no clue about where we were going and what we were doing – I was wondering if the Master Event Planner had lost his touch.

Next thing I know, we ended up at Miliken Park, the spot where we had our very first date back in the summer of 2002. The weather was perfect, the park was gorgeous, and I was looking forward to hanging around with HLF in the spot where this whole thing started.

As we walked towards an ice cream stand, I saw a photographer friend of ours. We ran over to say hello, and he asked if we’d mind posing for some pics while he tested light in the park. If you know ANYTHING about me, you’ll know that I live for photos. I’ve been posing since I was a baby, so I wasn’t about to turn down a free photo shoot! Mr. Photographer placed us by a tree and snapped a few quick shots of us before thanking us and heading off.

At our "free photoshoot"

HLF and I quietly sat together for a while, watching two little girls play with boats in a water fountain. It was so serene, so peaceful – until I heard rustling in the bushes behind us.

I look back and see one of my best friends walking towards us with a bouquet of flowers. I was clearly stunned at the fact that she literally came out of the woodwork, but my questions of “What are you doing?” went unanswered. Her and HLF were having a bartering session, and next thing I know, he bought the flowers from her for $5 and handed them to me. Needless to say, I was confused.

Bootleg "Pam"

While I was interrogating him about what was going on, I heard more rustling. I looked back into the bushes and saw one of HLF’s homeboys roll out of the leaves. My man walks up to us with a bottle of champagne and a CD of love songs – the same bartering technique as before, which ended with Homie buying the goods for $5 and his friend walking off into the wilderness. It was then that I noticed two things. One was that Mr. Photographer was hiding behind ANOTHER bush not too far from us, and was peeking his camera lens out to take photos. Then, I noticed something that the champagne deliverer said…something along the lines of “I have for you here, a bottle of the finnest – uh, FINEST champagne. And yes, it is for sale.” This sounded SO familiar to me, but in the midst of my confusion, I couldn’t place it.

Bootleg "Cole"

While HLF was talking to me about making the CD full of songs that meant something to the both of us, or that reminded him of me, it hit me. Our friends were reenacting the scene from Martin where Martin proposed to Gina (the real proposal, not that nonsense he did to keep her from moving to NYC). My homegirl was Pam with the flowers, our homeboy was Cole with the champagne – so that meant no-job-havin’-ass Tommy was coming with the ring??? That’s when it happened.

Me talking to myself while "Tommy" and "Martin" do business

Again, out of the bushes, another good homeboy came out and walked right over to us, ring box in hand. As him and HLF started reciting the lines from Martin word for word, I retreated into my own head. He’s proposing. No he’s not. There’s a ring in that box. No there’s not. Maybe it’s a cupcake. Maybe it’s keys to a new car. Maybe it’s a dog tag for the puppy he got me. Maybe it’s all a joke. Or is he really proposing? After their exchange, our friend walked back into the bushes, and HLF turned to face me. On one knee.

He said the most beautiful words. He asked me if I would marry him. And I said:

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

I really did, y’all! Belly full of roti with all this excitement, what did you expect? But when I saw the look of confusion and disappointment on his face, I blurted out, “No! I mean Yes! I mean, no I’m not going to throw up – but yes I’ll marry you!” He still looked confused and asked if I was sure, then when he was satisfied that I was serious, we kissed and he hugged me tighter than he ever had before.

Yes.

We didn’t get serenaded by a fake Brian McKnight, but our friends – the photographer, bootleg Pam, Cole, Tommy (check his blog, y’all!), and the “stage directors” – came out to celebrate, and all was well. Miliken Park was bursting with joy that day. Not only did I get engaged, but HLF chose to do it in such a personal way, a way that encompassed one of my favourite things. There is nothing, and I mean NOTHING like a partner who knows you, inside and out, quirks and all – and honours that when they get the chance.

For reference (if you aren’t a Martin freak like me), here is a clip of the proposal scene:

YouTube Preview Image

So there you have it! Not really a Valentine’s Day post, but a post about love all the same. Yes, V-Day is unnecessary and a money grab and a fake holiday created by Hallmark and the company that makes those red hot hearts – with the argument being that we should show love everyday. True – but most folks celebrate birthdays even though we should be happy to be alive everyday, right? Maybe I just like excuses to celebrate :) Who are you showing love to today? Your significant other? Your child? Your parents? Your closest friends? Above all, don’t forget to show love to yourself! That’s the most vital love to have.

December 28, 2011 

Marriage Lessons: Part Two

Part 1 of this post detailed the struggles of merging my pre-wedding life with my post-wedding life. My first and biggest obstacle was figuring out how to go from ’100% DIY’ to someone’s life partner without losing my independent spirit.

When we left off, I was paying bills and giving Mister Man a Ja Rule scowl. Why? Because he reminded me I wasn’t alone anymore.

Alone doesn’t equal lonely, and I thoroughly enjoyed (and still enjoy) my solitude. However, I was so used to doing things on my own that I didn’t know how to share the load with another willing participant. During our pre-marital counseling session, I admitted this out loud for the first time ever. But still, the question remained: NOW what?

Independence as it was taught and expressed to me was about more than being able to buy your own drinks in the club, your own jewelry, or any other tangible item. It wasn’t about the one-off things that you can acquire by yourself, it was about a deeper level of self-sufficiency. Hard for me to put into words, but I saw my mom raise three children on her own, move us from a townhouse into a home that was bigger than the one she shared with my father, take us on trips and make sure that Christmases and birthdays were incredible. Even just thinking about my father, who moved to Canada where he knew no one, and still built a life – I used these things to push myself and say, “I can make it on my own.”

However, that’s me and my typical way of being stuck in history. This is now. I’ve made it this far on my own, and as a married woman, I’m not “on my own” anymore. I always knew I’d have a great life with the Mr. because he was independent and goal oriented and could take care of his business – but I never thought about how things would work when it was time for us to take care of our business. It’s funny, because if the Mr. was the type of man who couldn’t do for himself, I likely wouldn’t have married him – but I would almost be more comfortable because I could still maintain my role as Empress of Taking Care Of Everything.

It’s been a bit difficult to let my guard down, but I’m slowly getting used to sharing life’s load. Having two strong people in a partnership is great, but it takes some time to confirm each person’s role once the celebratory dust settles. There are things that he’s better at, so I let him take the reins. There are things that I’m better at, so I relish the opportunity to make it do what it do, baby. What has helped me the most is to finally reach a level of trust that I’ve never felt safe with before. I’m not constantly waiting for things to collapse, I’m just enjoying each day as it comes. Letting go of that paranoia has helped me to see that my lessons of independence definitely made me the woman I am today, but don’t have to be as rigid as I once thought. An intensely dedicated relationship, married or otherwise, is a living, breathing entity. What you thought on day 1 is not necessarily what you’ll think on day 967 and beyond, and for me, with this lesson, that is a good thing.

Whew. Feels good to get that out! What do you guys think? Has independence ever been an issue in your relationships? I may share some other marriage-minded thoughts in the future, so stay tuned!

December 23, 2011 

Marriage Lessons – Part One

Courtesy of Quinntyne Brown Photography

As I’ve mentioned a few times on this blog, I got married earlier this year. I’m at an interesting crux in life where for every friend who is getting married or having a baby, there’s one who is single and loving it (or not). Some of my single friends say “write about your marriage and give us hope that there are still good men/women out there!” and some of my married friends say “write about your marriage  – we can relate and share our experiences!”

Now, I’ve toyed with the idea, but I’ll admit that putting my business out in the internet streets is scary – plus, I have someone else’s comfort level to consider as well. However, I’m constantly driven to write about whatever is on my mind, so I may indulge the requests every now and then. Lucky for y’all who keep asking – today is one of those days.

My current “marriage lesson” is reconciling my independence. And it’s a toughie. Let me explain.

For the majority of my life, I was raised by a single mother. An incredibly strong single mother who instilled in her eldest daughter the values of being independent. As a woman who came to this country on her own, she always relied on self – but that mentality increased tenfold after my parents divorced. Here she was, with three young children to raise, a mortgage to pay, and fall-out from a lopsided divorce agreement. Business had to be taken care of, and she was the only one who could do it. I watched her intently as she moved through life, and never realized just how much I internalized what I saw.

For a couple of years after the divorce, all Mom would do is go to work, come home, cook us dinner, then go to sleep. I remember her sleeping so much that I would often creep to her room and put my finger under her nose to make sure she was still breathing. I’d tuck the covers tighter around her, then creep back downstairs to help li’l brother with his homework, and watch a few episodes of Sailor Moon with li’l sister. I began to feel like Mom Jr., and I loved it. Taking care of people was fun for me. I felt needed, valued, appreciated, and best of all, mature beyond my years. It was my first mini-lesson and proved that I could do it – I could take care of myself and my family.

Fast forward years later to a grown-up Bee. One who learned how to work hard enough to ensure she had enough money to take care of herself. One who learned that you really can’t trust anyone – so beware of anyone who came with a slick smile and easy promises (which, if you looked hard enough, was everyone). One who learned how to make people need her more than she needed them. One who lived on her own, thought “joint account” was an expletive, and never invested ALL of her feelings because nothing ever lasted forever.

Eventually, I found myself in a long-term relationship. Then, I found myself engaged and planning a wedding. And during pre-marital counseling, I found my biggest hurdle: reconciling my independence. I had a man who was similar to me in a lot of ways. Capable, strong-willed, ambitious – but he scared the beejeezus out of me because he wanted to be an equal partner in this life thing. And I had no clue how to let him in.

One night, I was stressing over bills. Calculator out, biting on a pen, and cursing the likes of Rogers and OSAP. He sat beside me, started rubbing my hunched shoulders and said “Why are you flipping out? I’m here. You’re not doing this alone anymore.” I turned to him with a look like:

…but then I realized, “Damn. He’s right. NOW what?”

This feels like a 2-parter. Stay tuned…