So I promised to give more background info as I go along...and here we go...
I come from a broken home...but who doesn't these days? My parents were very young when my mom got pregnant with me. She already had a son from a previous marriage. I could write an encyclopedia set of books on my relationship with my mother, but we won't go there right now. When I was 6 months old, my parents got married. My dad was in the military and had to do a stint overseas. While he was gone, my mom hooked up with her 3rd husband. Needless to say by the time I was 2, my parents were divorced and I was living with my dad and my grandmother. My mom really was in no position to be raising 2 kids. After all, the guy she cheated with was still married with 3 kids of his own. Fun stuff, right?
My dad got married just before I turned 4 to a great girl. I call her a girl because she was only 19....he was 24. They only dated for 2 months before they got married. They are still married today. She raised me as her own and now that I am a step-mom I know how hard it is to try and nurture a child that you love as your own but that is not "yours". Not an easy balancing act. We moved quite a bit while I was growing up since my dad was in the military. My dad and step-mom had a son when I was 7. He was born 3 months early and only lived for 2 days. I didn't really understand a lot at 7, but it was very sad for all of us. My dad's second son was born just over a year later (1 month early) and he was beautiful and perfect. I loved him with all my heart and soul. He was my shining star. I vividly remember watching him through the glass as they cleaned him up. My step-mom had a c-section because he was breach so she didn't get to hold him right away. He was all icky and gooky but the cutest baby in the world. When he was 2 my dad's 3rd son was born, also 3 months early. He had a brain hemorrhage on his 2nd day of life...history was repeating itself. He survived but not without consequences. He was severely handicapped, deaf and had Cerebral Palsy. He had countless brain operations (among others over the years) and was in the hospital for about 3 months. I remember the fist time I got to hold him. He was so tiny and I felt so proud that I was allowed in the NICU to be with him. My step-mom went the hospital every day that he was there. Nothing can match a mother's love. Having him in our lives really changed all of us. For me and my brother we became more tolerant of those with disabilities. My parents (and I mean my dad and step-mom) were strained in a lot of ways. There weren't many opportunities to do family things like go to the movies or out to dinner or to amusement parks. We did those things, but rarely. All effort went into caring for him and making sure we had everything we needed for him and worrying about him. But when he would laugh and smile and grab at me or a toy I was waving in front of him, none of that mattered. He was just my brother. My parents never had any more kids. They wanted more but the burden of caring for my brother was heavy. Plus, it was learned that my step-mom has a mis-shapen uterus and there was no guarantee that she would carry to term. Hence, the 3 pre-term deliveries. She didn't just go into early labor each time, her water broke so there was no way of stopping labor. We got extra lucky that my other brother (1 month early) was carried almost to term and came out healthy.
I found out recently that my parents had been trying for 3 years before they got pregnant the first time. I never knew that but had I known, I would have been more likely to share my own TTC troubles with them. I'm glad they know now a little of what I have been through. It might not have been such a hard road had I not kept it to myself for so long. Live and learn.
I guess that's enough for now. I didn't really plan on getting this specific with my life story but it just sort of flows once I get going. And if you really want to know who I am, I think it's important to know where I came from.
On the TTC front...I was on my way into work today and a car passed by with a crying baby in the back seat. My first instinct was to run the lady off the road and rescue the poor baby from his uncaring mother. Reality set in and I realized that he was turned away from her in his carseat (as he should be) and there was no way she could reach his pacifier...the next time we rolled passed her he was sound asleep. All was well.