Once upon a time in the kingdom of Aquatread...
it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be
Published on April 25, 2007 By LadyCleve In Life Journals
I am officially 30 now. Have been since the week before last, and as the title states, it was on Friday the 13th. It's kind of funny, but even though I know there had to have been another one in between somewhere, the last birthday I remember falling on a Friday was when I turned 13. I tried to have friends over and camp out in a tent in the backyard, but they all chickened out. Too superstitious. Of course, it was also New York in April, and it was still pretty chilly, so I guess there were some legitimate excuses too.

Anyway, when I realized that both my 30th and 13th birthdays were going to fall on Fridays, I decided I should rent Jennifer Garner's movie, 13 Going on 30, order pizza, and maybe have a couple of drinks, because I knew I would be depressed. You see, I knew I would be spending my 30th birthday alone. My husband had just left for Iraq and I haven't met alot of people here yet, not that I've connected with anyway.

Everyone I've met here has kids. It's not that I don't like children, I do. I worked with kids in several capacities, and I miss most of them dearly. But I don't have kids of my own. Not that I don't want them. Yes, it did take close to five years of marriage for me to decide that I eventually wanted to have children, but this summer we will celebrate our 11th Anniversary, and I wonder if it will ever happen. When I first got married I figured that as long as I had my first child by the time I was 30 I'd be happy; 30 seemed like a lifetime away then. Then last spring, as 29 approched, it suddenly hit me. Holy Crap! I've only got a year left! And he was in Virginia at the time. I had it figured out though. I was going to go visit him when school got out for the summer, because if I got pregnant by mid-summer I could still have my first child before my 30th birthday. Or maybe I'd even have the luck to have my first child on my 30th birthday, like my mom did with me. Nope, didn't happen.

I've tried several times over the years to get a referral to see a fertility specialist, but I finally managed it and had my first appointment--2 weeks before my husband deployed. The doctor explained that there wasn't a whole lot that they'd be able to do for us with him gone, and wasn't sure why I'd come in; I expressed frustration with my health and not wanting to wait until he returned to start the process of figuring out what was wrong or fixing it. So, I've been working on a diet and exercise plan with the dr, and it's actually pretty easy. I lost 10 pounds in the first months and I'm pretty excited. Maybe when he comes home for R & R?!?

Anyway, since I've been making such good progress with this program, I wasn't about to derail it with a birthday pity-party, but I didn't have to. There's a couple that moved here last month, and we went to church with her back in Texas when her husband was deployed, and now we're at the same church again. We've had dinner a couple of times, before NBS left, and after, and they called to see if they could take me out for my birthday. Another lady, whose hubby works with mine, had asked the same thing, so we all went out and had a good time. They had even called ahead and made arrangements with the restaurant for a birthday cake/sundae (I didn't eat it all!) and asked after I blew out the candle if I had any profound thoughts or memories of the last 30 years to share. I wished that you were with me, love. But it was nice to have friends with me that cared so much.

The lady whose hubby works with mine? Today was her birthday. We talked about the little things that make us want to cry, and make us feel silly for doing it. We talked about our husbands calling on our birthdays, and knowing that as much as we wished they were with us, they wished they were too. I took her to lunch and a movie; it wasn't the same, but I hope it helped.

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