So I came across some relics. Was going thru memory boxes...treasure chests as they seem to me. Pictures, mementos, old concert tickets, cards, and old notes. Amongst the chapters of a life, was were my college writing assignments...well all those that I kicked major ass on.
10 distant years ago, I was asked to write about best 5 mins of my young life...
This is what I got 95% on (yay lil me!)
Love at First Sight
Hospital lights make people looks so ugly. You know what I mean, those flourescent yellowish ones. They just shone off the pure, white hospital walls. It's also disgusting how clean everything is. I could just smell the disinfectant. Even more so when I'd never been in so much pain in my life...or so embarrassed! Just go ask someone to run over you for 22 hours while six people state at your naked body, then you'll know exactly what I mean.
Have you ever wondered if you could push so hard your eyes pop out of your head? Exactly how is something the size of a watermelon, supposed to be squeezed through something the size of a lemon? That's what was whirling through my drugged, and exhausted state of mind. Also, Chicken McNuggets, with yummy barbecue sauce, a medal for being so brave and strong, and flowers, because well...I deserved them. Buth then reality hit me, like a semi-truck hitting a brick wall. This was no time to be daydreaming of watermelons, lemons, and Chicken McNuggets. I was having a baby! I, of course, was the first woman alive to go through so much horrid pain.
If only I could remember to breath. My mohter reminded me constantly, while my big, brown eyes stared at her with that glazed, deer-in-the headlights-look. I squeezed her hand in mine trying not to think of the monitor beeping in the background, or the belt tightly wrapped and itching around my enlarged belly, or all the tubes and needles sticking out of my arm. I tried not think of watermelons, or Chiken McNuggets. And how ugly, and sweaty I must look under the horrendous lights to the two doctors, three nurses and two parents in the room. How totally embarassed and humble that made me.
"Push Sara," "Harder Now," "Breathe," "You're doing a great job honey." The voices whirled around me like a tornado; I prayed for more drugs. So I tried to breathe. i panted and heaved with everything in me.
"It's a girl!" The worst pain imaginable was over, and all i could say was, "What?" There goes the theory about mother's instinct. They held her up so that I could see my daughter for the very first time. She was a lot bigger that I had anticipated, and so were her nose and feet. Also a lot gooier. She looked like someone had spilled blueberrry yogurt all over her. But, even under the ugly, flourescent hospital lights, she was beautiful. The pain just vanished, and a jumble of new feelings sort of crept its way from the tips of my toest, the top of my crown. It was a mixture of surprise, anxious, proud, even a little nervous; but above all it was love. they tooke her away to clean the 'yogurt' off, and to weigh her. My Dad went to make phone calls, and my Mom went to get me Chicken McNuggets. When they brought her back we were alone.
She was wrapped in a soft, warm, fuzzy blanket just like a newborn should. I grasped her little-wee hand in my much larger one, and she opened her swollen, big blue eyes. Time just stood still, as we stared at each other. I was her Mommy. I never felt so lucky as one tiny, wet tear slithered down my cheek. Some people say that there is no such thing as love at first sight. They could never be so wrong.
I got 100 % on my story about an influental person in my life. This story was also entered into the Chicken Soup for the Souls books.
My Shannie
Shannon and Sara. "The Girls," everyone calls us. Not two seperate individuals, but like one person. Although if you didn't know us, you'd probably never come to that conclusion. My Shannie is dark, quiet, and patient, shy and calm, level headed and wise. Things I could never claim to be. If life were a fable I would be the bad girl, and Shannie would be the good girl. She's my total opposite, but nearly my twin. Sounds weird, but she's my sister, so that makes it normal.
Shannie is 13 months older than I am, so technically she's my older sister. I say technically, because most of the time it seems she's my younger. this bully of a boy would pick on Shannie in elementary school. he would pull her long brunette braids, call her names, and push her around. So she called me, the outspoken, tomboy little sister. The bully never bother her again. Shannon and our stepmother maybe had one arguement. On the other hand, her and I got in plenty. I was Shannies' protector. I would stick up for her to anyone about anything. It was kind of like the strong protecting the weak. Not the Shannie's weak, she just is too kind, and quiet to speak her mind or, "yell" at anyone.
We always used to play pretend. That was our favorite. On the other hand, maybe it was my favorite and I made her play. We had a little spot down by the creek. We decided its name was Little Duck Mountain Creek. Fantasies happened down there. Unicorns, heroes, princesses, princes, witches, and I swear this is true, one day we heard fairies. Shannon always got to the witches, the boy characters, or Cauly...the name I made up and didn't like. She'd always say, 'Say I'm the princess today." I'd reply, "I'm the princess today." I drive her crazy most of the time, I think.
One warm summer day, I made petrified, little Shannon walk across the log that went across the creek. I inched her to the midle of the log where she would go no further, nor back. So we sat there, and pulled up our old, ratty farm overalls and dangled our feel in the cool water. It mush have looke like a picture. Two little farm kids. One with long dark braids, the other with long blonde pigtails. As the birds chirped in the trees, and the creek rushed under our dirty, little toes we talked about the future.
I was going to marry the cute guy from the Archie comics. I would arrive at the church in a carriage drawn by horses...a pretend Princess, remember? I would wear the biggest, grandest white dress, and she would be my maid of honor. Then I'd have a girl, and a boy in that order and she'd be Auntie Sahnnon. Her idea of the future varied slightly. She'd marry that cute guy from the Archie comics too. She'd have a quiet, little outdoor wedding, and wear a simple dress. I'd be her maid of honor. Then she'd have a boy and a girl in that order, and I'd be Auntie Sara. We would be around 20, because that was old. She'd do this first because she was older.
An older sister is supposed to do everything first. Then she is to teach it all to you. In our case things worked out different. I taught my Shannie how to apply make-up, even though she refuses to wear it. I went to parties, and kissed boys, and sat on her bed at 4 am, and told her all about it. And, I made her an Auntie first.
She was the first person to know I thought I was pregnant. she even bought the pregnancy test. She held my hand, as the pink line gave me the answer. Then she held my head while i cried. And all through the next year, which was my worst so far, she was there. She listened to a lot over the telephone. I know without a doubt I could tell Shannie anything. She never judges people, she always just listens. Sometimes I wish I could be more like her. She has the quiet, almost mysterious aura. She just radiates calmness. It's like she "knows." You just can't help but feel more relaxed in her presence.
I no longer have to Shannie's savior. She has grown a lot since high school. She moved away all on her own, has her own set of friends, found a boyfriend without my matchmaking, is starting her Childcare Worker career...has her own life. In a way I kind of miss being needed. But, she's my sister, and I'll always need her, and she'll always need me. Forever together, "The Girls."
And I made Mini Me an awesome breakie in bed:
My love and I painted together, and I have some new decor for walls I'm selling:
I colored my hair brown for a change:
And that's all for today. Over n' out for now!
I want to hug the world. Just give it a big old squeeze....hug the stuffing right out of it, and everyone. Hugs make you feel safe, secure, and loved. And it's so simple to do. But I can't hug everyone's problems away, or make the ouchies of the world stop. But if you're reading this, then i urge you to put your right hand on your left shoulder, your left hand on your right shoulder. Good. Now squeeze!
