The Fallback Friend

Overall I would say my childhood was good. I don't have any horror stories and never went without. Our stuff may not have been top dollar stuff but we always had it. My mother made sure that we had presents on our birthdays and Christmas. Baskets on Easter, way after we knew it was her. True, I think the last year we had candy threw at us but we were old enough to be okay with that. Yes, there were times where my mother scared me with her yelling and screaming. I've come to learn that is just a result of her own childhood. None of her brothers or sisters escaped without their own issues.

I love my family, all of them. The mixed up ones, the religious nut ones, the yell-y ones. They all make up the person I've turned into. Since this is my blog I'm going to talk about my family. I won't use their names but I will give them nicknames. But that’s not in this post. Those will be later. This is my schooling past.

When I was small I learned that I could control the household. I have an older brother who is eleven years older than me and a sister who is fifteen months older than me. I wasn’t very nice to them, and I admit that. Maybe that’s why I had such a hard time in school. The first two years, kindergarten and first grade were a big adjustment. At that time, I’d like to think I was an okay student – behavior wise.

I didn’t learn to read in school, I was almost ten by the time I could read a story that seven year olds read. It wasn’t a teacher who taught me to read, no it was my eleven-year-old sister. She would read Superfudge to me over and over, then she taught me how to read on it.  

I was put into Chapter One in the second grade. All I learned in that class was to sit down and shut up or I’ll get the paddle again. Third grade they put me into Resource. I was in that room for math, reading and spelling. I loved my teacher but she was no teacher. She taught the same things for three years; she was just a place filler. I didn’t learn simple multiplication and division until fourth grade. That was only because my teacher, Mr. H. didn’t teach math at the same time as my math class in Resource with Mrs. N.

Mr. H. was the first teacher who really seemed to like teaching. He paid attention to every student not just the loud or smart ones. I liked being in his class. Fifth grade was the same as second and third, I learned nothing.

I never made friends easy. I had a best friend in elementary school, really she was my only friend. Then in middle school she was gone. (She moved.) That was when I met Amy. Amy doesn’t need a nickname because there is no way she’d yell at me for talking about her. I wish she could. Amy was my best friend almost from the moment I met her. She was funny and seemed to get my since of humor easily.

That’s not to say I didn’t have other friends. I did, good friends at that. Only one that I can say hi on social media and not feel weird though. J.B. I met her closer to the end of my eight grade though.

Amy was entirely different. I can honestly say now I think I was in love with her. That might seem weird to those around me. I guess it would to me if I didn’t live it. I’ve only felt something like that with one other female but that was in high school. It’s not you J.B. (she would wonder) or you J.W. (she might read this, probably not though). The girl is not on my friends list so don’t worry.

Anyway, middle school sucked. It wasn’t fun or a happy place for me. I was still put in ‘special’ classes for math. I remember having a normal English class though. In middle school I was introduced to what a real bully was. In elementary that were kids who didn’t like me, a lot but in middle school I met him. I’ll call him Quarterback. Truthfully, I have no idea what position the boy played, I didn’t like football. Quarterback made it his life’s mission to make my life miserable. Saying horrible things to me in gym. Or in the hallway. Or at lunch when I would find things being thrown in my hair. No class was safe with him in it.

I used to daydream that horrible things would happen to him. I used to dream of the day something large would fall on him. For three years I hated going to school because he and his friends were there. But I kept going, then high school happened.

High school was a different animal altogether. I think it was maybe three days into my freshman year when I finally seemed to calm down. Quarterback wasn’t in any of my classes. I had never felt so lucky in my life. That day I had to go to the office to work out something with my schedule. Guess who I passed on my way? That’s right, Mr. Quarterback. Did he sneer at me or throw an insult at me? No, none of those things.

He looked at me and smiled that perfect smile, the one he always smiled at everyone else. Then he said. “Hey, Pam. It’s so different here, isn’t it?” Then he laughed and said he would see me later.

Mr. Quarterback wasn’t my bully anymore. I don’t know what happened over that summer but he changed, at least to me. He might have said something once or twice but nothing like his former glory. But that wasn’t the end of the bullying. Quarterback may have stopped but his friends didn’t.

Most of the football team made fun of me. Correction, most of the football team in my grade. The older kids didn’t seem to care. I wish my class was like that.

But that’s the fun part of high school. You’re not just having classes with your grade. My freshman year I took World History. I was one of the few freshmen. It was my favorite class. I had one of my sister’s friends in class with me. A.D. I always had someone to talk to, and she never made me feel alone. Well, until she wasn’t there anymore. But in that class I had the coolest teacher, Coach A. After that year he left too.

Back to my friendship with Amy. Because of all the new classes and mixing everyone I didn’t get to see her very much. We lucked out and the second semester we were put in the same math class. Again it was a ‘special’ class. It was taught by Coach B; I don’t remember what he taught but I do remember we watched a lot of movies in that class.

My U.S. Government class was worse. Our teacher handed us papers and left for the whole class. This went on through the quarter semester until we switched to Economy. I don’t like to generalize but in my experience Coaches do not seem to care about the class they thought, at least at that time. Coach A. and Coach W. were the only ones who seemed to want to teach. I had a geography class that we spent a week watching North and South because ‘those are directions on a map’.

That was also the class where I met another friend. M.O. I liked her. She didn’t judge me and actually invited me over to her house. That had only happened with four other people in my life. Her family was very sweet and welcoming. We ate snacks and watched an Ernest movie. Which one I can’t remember.

Amy and I had drifted apart. She was friends with the cool outsider group. I used to walk to the science pod just so I could walk by the pit and see those people. She really didn’t have time for me, and her attitude seemed to change. The turning point in our friendship happened at lunch one day. She came to my table laughing. I asked her want was going on. She said she just spit into J.’s lunch. J. was a special needs boy in special education. J. never did anything to anyone.

That was what I thought was the final nail in that friendship. I couldn’t look at her the same and she couldn’t get over how I ‘overacted’. It wasn’t though because I secretly hoped she would turn back into the person I once knew. We never stopped being friends though, but we weren’t close anymore. Then the summer of ’98 she died. I won’t get into how it happened. Those who know her or about her know what happened.

My mother broke the news to me because my dad found it in the paper. Because we weren’t as close I hadn’t talked to her on the phone in almost a year. She was just gone then. I took it hard, for many different reasons. Mostly because I never got to make up with her.

It was then I stopped trying to make friends. Then the funniest thing happened. When you don’t want a friend and don’t try to make friends they come out of the woodwork. I stopped hanging out with those who I was friends with. We tried to have a remembrance and grief group but it wasn’t really me and I left.

That was when I met J.J. He was everything people hated. Loud, mean, and cold. But some reason he liked me, really liked me. He didn’t stay around that long because he found himself on the wrong side of the law. Still does sometimes, every five years or so I talk to him.

I don’t know why I just wrote all that crap. I guess I just needed to get it off my chest. I hated school. I don’t have these fun memories of school. I don’t understand why I made a great target for bullies but I did. I envied my sister because she had two best friends. You couldn’t say one without thinking about the other two. Now they all have their own lives and don’t talk very much. But they were so close, I didn’t have that even with any of my best friends.

I didn’t go into all the bullying that happened to me because it’s too painful. Thirteen years of being made fun of and pushed around. I had only been physically bullied a couple of times so that’s a plus. Okay, I’m going to stop whining now. Bye.

I haven't written in this thing in years. I thought about it the other day but decided not to. But now I just need to get my feelings out. I was at the store a few minutes ago. In the past I have been ignored, huffed at and all around had bad service there. Today two women were working there, one greeted me when I came in. Cutely a little boy at the counter with his mother and sibling repeated said greeting.

I shop, taking my time collecting what I needed. I could hear one clerk talk about getting her hair done. I quite frankly like chatty people, just not when their chatting to me. I'm very introverted. Anyway, time comes for me to check out. I walk to the front of the store where the checkout is and no one is there. I look around and see the two clerks outside smoking, again I have no problem with this. 

They both see me and one gets up. The other one says they didn't know anyone else was in the store. Just so she wouldn't feel bad I did something I try never to do, talk to strangers. I made a joke that I'm very quiet, and she laughs. About this time the woman and her children that had checked out when I arrived came back in returned to the store. 

The mother seemed to forgot to pick something up and she quickly grabbed it and got into line behind me. The clerk, who I had made the joke with and had not even paid any attention to the returned woman, looked at me and said she was sorry about that. I was about to open my mouth and say it was okay when the mother who was looking elsewhere STOLE MY APOLOGY. She waved the woman off saying it was okay. 

Now here's my whine, it was my apology, not yours.  I know this has got to be the stupidest thing to ever hear but I needed that. She had done nothing to you to warrant an apology, she didn't make you forget something. I get the mother was just preoccupied and didn't even notice but it was mine. And anyone who knows me knows I have a problem with sharing, but this wasn't sharing. YOU STOLE IT. Okay, whine over.

My day as a mother.

Well I don't usually blog. I guess I'll just start from the beginning of this. On Jan. 27, 2007 I went to bed with everything good in the world. I was 32 weeks pregnant with a little girl my first child. Planning the next weekend to start on her nursey. The next morning of the 28th I woke up and my sweet girl was in a odd spot and sitting odd that didn't feel right. I told my self it was because she was getting bigger and less room. You hear all the time about women being uncomforable the farther they get. The day goes on she doesn't move I started getting worried but decide to wait til my husband gets home he arrived around 6:30.

I posted on a message board with my sister. So I have my husband post and ask about fetal movement the post were she is getting bigger try these things if she doesn't move call your doctor. I had talking to my mother and sister on and off the day with my worries. My sister helped us with something though I can't remember what right now. We could not reach my doctor and the on call doctor did not call back. Come to find out Dh didn't give her the right number. It was very hectic. We call the hospital I was to deliver at they said to come in. Its a good 45 to hour drive. Dh and I were talking about how we were just being paranoid even though I know I was sure it wasn't paranoia but hey i've been wrong before. On the drive I talked to my sister and my mom on the phone.

At the hospital the lady who checked us in said she had gone though it with all her children them not moving and her being worried and everything was ok. She asked us if we would like to prereg I thought why not. If they had to deliver the baby early it would be taken care of. We get in to a room where the tech and a nurse come in. They pulled my shirt up and my pants down under my stomach. The tech used the u/s I saw only her spine before I turned away I knew then she was gone. She tired to get a heartbeat seems like forever then left and a more trained tech came in and tried.

They hooked me up to see if it was the heart they were hearing was mine it was. They looked so sad and said they were sorry. They were going to admit me and call my doctor. Dh was in denial until she was born. Anyway the phone rang I told my husband to turn it off. I got in the room and the nurse was so nice. She said my doctor was on his way to officially say that the baby had died. I called my sister I told her the baby was gone and I heard her voice crack just a little before she started saying how sorry she was and what need I need her to do. I told her to call my mom I never could take hearing my mom cry.

I do not know how that went. She also told the message board that the baby had died. They were very kind ladies there. My mom called her boss and got the night off we worked for the same place and she told them about the baby. One lady offered to drive her to the hospital but my mom said she was find. My mom showed up a little after the doctor or before its a little hazy. My doctor did not have the best bedside manner but he was ok. He said the baby was gone and that the next morning we would start with the induction. I again called my sister. I was very grateful to have the support of my mother and sister. My husband was very much in denial and I couldn't help him. My sister asked if I wanted her to come down. She lives over 10 hours away with 2 small children. I told her she didn't have to I wasn't there for either of her childrens birth. But at the end of most births there is a screaming pink baby to care for most women don't want people there.

I was going to have a baby who was still and discolored and very silent. There would be no other better time for her to met her niece. I told her she didn't have to but I wanted her there so much I don't know what I excactly told her. But she said she would have her husband get the oil changed the next day and be on her way. They started the induction meds the next morning my mom and husband took turns sleeping on the couch. My mom and husband are both smokers and with all that was going on kept making trips off the hospital to smoke. The doubled my induction meds and gave me stadol which gave me weird pictures in my head and also felt like someone was holding a net over my face. So I asked if there was anything else so they morphine. My sister arrived late in the day of the second day I believe or maybe the beginning of the 3rd day I don't remember I know she dropped her kids off with her in laws. Its really hazy until the night of the 30th.

That night they did some kind of torture device thing where they put sticks in the cervix feels a horrible as it sounds. Well the next morning I was dilated 1cm enough for them to break my water. Then I had to epidural and at around 3 I was in labor. I could not feel the contractions so my nurse was feeling my stomach and telling me when to push. On my right I had my husband holding my hand with his hard hands that I felt I couldn't break with a sledge hammer. Then on my left was my sister with her soft small hands that was I so afraid to hurt her. My beautiful baby girl left this world before she entered it. When she was born they took her away they cleaned her weighted her measured her. Then asked if I wanted to hold her I knew as soon as all this started I didn't care what she looked like I wanted my baby. I held her she was so small 4Ib 10oz and 16 in long. And a head full of dark hair like her father. She was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen.

She had been gone 4 days when she was born but she was still beautiful. He daddy held her I was worried he'd drop her and she'd get hurt. My sister took pictures and then my sister held her. I regret not having a picture of her aunt holding her. I wish I would have held her longer. I gave her to my mother who held her and took her out of the room to the nurse for me. Thats it thats my life as a mother over before it began. I miss my daughter every day. I want her back but know that can't happen I just sometimes wish I were gone with her. I love and miss you my beautiful Avonlea.