Tonight she and I were talking about how selfish our parents can be. Her parents are divorced and mine mindswell be. I haven’t lived with my parents since I was nine years old. My mom and I have this relationship now where we are best friends. Really, that’s how we always have been. She texts me everyday and we both complain about our sons (my younger brother just turned 13), or our husbands. My father and I have never had a relationship. He loves my son but he never talks to me. It’s all so fucking weird.

My mom was an alcoholic bulimic when I was young. My dad was in my eyes the perfect one. My parents were 15 and 18 when I was born and they weren’t ready at all. When Justin was born they were 18 and 21. Still not ready. But we had each other. My dad didn’t drink and he played video games with Justin and I all the time.

I remember the last night I was there. My mom was drunk and they were fighting. My dad punched a hole in the wall and everyone was screaming. It’s a huge fucking blur. I just remember so clearly when my mom yelled to me down the stairs

call Nini and ask her if you can stay there for a while.

god I was so fucking relived. I ran and called right away and that night I was saved. My Nini and pap raised me from that day on. Before that they had me every weekend and I’d cry like hell when they brought me home on Sunday.

So thankful for them.

But anyway, I strive to give Aiden everything I never got as a young child and I will fight like hell to make sure he has the best of everything.

March 13th 2009 I told my pap I was going to be a mother and he hugged me, told me “you know how I feel about you” he started to tear up and so did I. Then the few days after that he was sick so that was really the last conversation we had that was normal before he had the “small heart attack” or whatever it really was and then he was put into ICU. We never got to have a real conversation after that because the next three months it was like talking to someone else. He went from normal, walking on the trail everyday, running errands – to someone you had to talk to like they are a child. He could only eat puree in the beginning and it didn’t get much better than that. One day while in the continuous care center he looked up at me & said “Where am I, really?” Like, he thought it was some kind of conspiracy. It broke my heart.

The doctors really played with my emotions always talking about how his kidneys could come through and fix themselves and everything would be okay, he may need a power scooter etc. Then he would recover enough in the hospital and they’d send him back to continuous care and he’d get worse.

At 16 weeks pregnant I went to get my ultra sound to find out if my child was a boy or girl then I went to the 5th floor so Pap could be the first one to know. I told him Aiden was a boy and he said “I knew it.” And he would always talk about how the couldn’t wait to hold the baby, it had been so long since he’d held a baby. He would rub my stomach and smile.

The night they put him on the Morphine drip was the worst. He was acting erratic and they put him on it to calm him down. Little did I know that he was never coming off or that they weren’t going to give him food or water. When I came in the next day to see him & I found out he wasn’t getting an IV of liquids that just made me so furious I couldn’t even see straight. A nurse took me out in the hallway & told me there was nothing else they could do. Why? Because he’s in his 70s? Because he’s not YOUR dad? I’ll never ever get over that. I would hold his hands and when I let go my hand prints would be on his hands because he was so dehydrated. I didn’t even know it was legal to starve someone to death. I wouldn’t even do that to an animal. Obviously, I’m still mad. I stomped out that day – said that I refused to sit back and be a part of that & I still feel the same way.

June 27th 2009 I got off work at 10, went straight to the hospital  like usual. 6 months pregnant. Said to hell with it, got my fatass up in bed with my pap. He had liquid coming out of his nose and mouth and once and a while a CNA would come in and suction it out. I still remember the smell. I didn’t give a shit. I knew damn well he didn’t have another day and I told him everything I needed to say. I’m so thankful for that conversation. I know he heard me. I had a dream that I’ll write about shortly. Anyway to be short, I told him thank you for being my dad. I told him he had changed my life for the better. That I was sorry for anything I had done or said to hurt him. And that, I would ALWAYS love him etc. Then I told him I was going home, with Donnie (his absolute best buddy, who happens to be a cat) and to please meet me at home. I had never told him before that night, but I told him then that it was okay to go. I have never been as upset as I was the night I left. I just knew that was it.

That was the last time I ever saw him.

Nini called me after 5AM that morning and said he had just passed at 5:19.

I will never, ever, be the same again. Part of me is forever gone. My pap was the person I was closest with. He’s the person I always went to when I had a problem. Still to this day, two years later, I will sometimes think “I have to call pap and ask him…” ugh.

We had a memorial service but it offered no closure. He donated his body to WVU, so the body wasn’t there. I know he wasn’t still in his body and that aspect didn’t matter. It’s just the fact that I never got to bury him yet. I have no grave to visit. There’s just nothing. And still today a big part of it seems like a dream. Like it never happened. They said we’d get the body in about two years but we haven’t yet.

A few days after he passed I had a dream that he was sitting in his chair, Donnie on his lap, & he repeated everything I told him that last night. Now, I’m calling it a dream but I really think it was real. In the dream I knew it was his spirit. That made me wake up with a smile at least. I still cry about 3 times a week. I’m convinced I’m going to feel incomplete the rest of my life. I can’t help be resentful to the fact I had a healthy baby boy three months later and he didn’t get to be there in person. I know he was there in spirit, but I’ll still never get over that.

I think God purposely gave me Aiden at the time he did because if I wasn’t pregnant during the whole ordeal, I would have been a worse mess. I was able to control myself a little because I didn’t want to upset the baby inside of me. It was just too close in time to all be a coincidence and then adding the factor that I’m not even supposed to be able to conceive.

On a happier note, October 19th two thousand nine at 12:13 pm I gave birth to a 7 lb 9.5oz little baby boy. Aiden Alexander Caldwell. He is going to be two next month and let me tell you, he is an angel. He is the best part about every single day of my life. I feel so blessed that I’m his mother.  He’s perfect in every single way.

On January 30th 2010 Alex proposed to me, and I obviously said yes and on September 4th 2010 we were married at St. Joseph’s Cathedral.

So, my life is completely different these days. I now live in southern West Virginia while my husband is in pre-pharmacy school to get his doctorate in pharmacy and i’m a stay-at-home-mom so I get to spend my days with my little man.

Losing someone you love with your whole heart never gets better. There will always be an emptiness in my day. I still cry frequently. I cried while typing this whole damn thing, in fact. But, I’m trying to think of the positive and live life to the fullest until the day I get to be with him again.

<3

Since the day I was born I stayed every weekend with my grandparents. They’d take me home on Sundays back to McMechen for the school week and then come & get me Friday night. They’ve always been my angels.  When things got tough at home, I knew I could call them to escape & they’d keep me safe.

Then one awful night when I was 9 turned out to be the best day of the rest of my life. Thanks to my parents childish behavior, I got to go live with my grandparents full-time. When I turned 14, I went back to my parnets and things got bad again, and I ended up in various childrens homes until November 2004 when my grandparents took custody and got me the hell out of there.

I’ve been here with them ever since.

I’m not even my pap’s blood granddaughter but he has loved me since day one. He & my grandma got together right before I was born. He guided my mother through my delivery, and he’s always told me that he sees me as his daughter. He has been the only stable father figure I’ve ever had, so I’m completely cool with that.

Well, over the years he’s had two open heart surgeries, strokes, heartattacks, the works. Everytime we’ve been scared, panicked, out of it…but this time we really need a prayer.

Thursday the 12th I was at work, my grandma was at work, and pap was home alone. He tried swallowing a pill, choked, and he said when he coughed it up finally, all he saw were colors.

The next day, I find out that I’m pregnant. I tell him the good news, and he hugs me, started crying & said, ” you know how i feel about you.” Gah. I hugged him and walked away before I started crying.

That was the last full conversation we had.

So, my grandma took Monday off from work and drove him to the doctors. When he got to his appointment, the doctor said he looked very pale and he expected a heart attack occured, so they sent him down to the ER. Sure enough, he had a “very small” heart attack, that did no damage. But, before they were sure of that, they sent him to a heart catheter to see the damage and he ended up having a stroke from it.

And this is my nightmare, or just the start.

At first he was eating honey consistancy food (pureed), now he’s on a feeding tube. He hasn’t talked today but yesterday I was the only person he said anything to and that was “I love you, Jayme.” I think it takes absolutely all his strength to say anything. He wears an oxygen mask, his diabetes keep sky rocketing, and he now has fluid in his lungs (which is either Pneumonia or his heart giving off liquid).

Today he has a brain scan and a spinal tap.
We need a prayer, a miracle.

What should have been a happy time, turns into horror. My birthday/easter is in 11 days, my baby is due on November 2nd, and all this horrible stuff is happening.

I’m holding onto any hope possible, talking to God…but it’s a battle.
Without him here, I don’t know what I’ll do.
My entire world will fall apart.

During the week I went to work complaining about being sick, getting fat, wanting to go home…the list goes on. Immediately two girls I work with are like, “hey maybe you’re pregnant” & i’m saying, “shut the fuck up.” Hah…

Friday the 13th (of all days) began serious change for the rest of my life. Nothing will ever be the same again.

I had been seriously sick for 5 days. Something I’ve never felt before. Nausea, burning, funny pains in my tummy to just name few. I go upstairs and begin to get ready to just go to the ER. I’ve come to the conclusion with the health problems that I’ve had, trying to get into the doctors when you’re seriously sick, waiting to get into the office, then another 4 days for xrays, blood tests, whatnot to come back is too long to wait when you’re ill. When you only have about 2 days off a week, it adds to the problem. So, I shower, put clothes on, shoes, cellphone, grab my purse, and notice a pregnany test that i’ve neglected.

According to doctors/specialists since I was 13 years old – I would not be able to get pregnant without fertility medications (Clomid), & even then I’d have a slight chance. Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) is a bitch, let me tell you. Looking back, crying over it for years & years really pisses me off now.

So, to amuse myself I go and pee on the damn stick. I’m sick of it lying around, anyway. We’ve been through this a million times, I can’t get pregnant. I’m just parinoid and ridiculous. So, I pee, lie it down, and grab my phone. Come back a few minutes…two blue lines. I threw the package away a long time ago, so I shakily text Bev, “i just took that pregnancy test. two blue lines, wth does THAT mean?!” & she replies, & at that point my entire life changed.

Next, I do what every teenage girl dreads, I’m sure. Luckily, i’m older than a lot.
jme; hi mom, what you doing?
mom; heyy, getting ready to go pick up your sister, whats up?
jme; uhhh, i think i might be pregnant.
mom; oh gosh, i think i just aged 30 years.

Possibly one of the most awkward conversations I’ve had. My mom is definitely the chillest in my family. She knows pretty much everything about me. But again, we’re more like friends than mother and daughter until this conversation came into play. My grandma was going to possibly give me a heartattack; I didn’t even want to see my father.

I decide not to go to the hospital. Instead I’m texting my closest friends freaking the hell out. I think poor Bev was freaking out as badly as I. I was pacing around my room not knowing what the hell to do at that point. I had texted Alex to call me ASAP, but he was at work so I didn’t know when I’d be hearing from him. My sister wasn’t home, so there was no one to confide in. I was alone, and flipping out.

Turns out Alex had his phone charging in the security office, and the guy working decided to read the text since it was from me and i kept texting, and he walkied Alex telling him he better give me a call.

Another how-the-hell-do-i-say-this conversation. From this point, I decided I wasn’t going to beat around the bush, i’m telling everyone up front.

“Alex, I think I’m pregnant.”

It sucks to have to tell the father of your potential child over the phone that you’re knocked up.

So he’s freaking out, I’m freaking out, we can’t be together & no one knows but my mother and she’s 15 miles away.

My mother finally comes over around 9:15 with 2 standard tests and a digital. My dad’s in my room, not saying a word, I hug them both, and they leave.

My sister comes into the bathroom with me, and I take the first test.
positive.
I start flipping out, yet again.
Jesika is happy as hell to be an aunt.

Alex comes around 9:45.
I take the second test.
Positive.
We’re still in shock.

I call my best friend/brother. He thinks this is possibly the funniest thing he’s ever heard. He starts cracking up. He tells my dad’s parents. So, now that everyone else knows it’s time to atleast tell the people I’m living with.

Gah. Nini. As a little one, I spent every single weekend with her (my parents were 16 & 19 when I was born), when I was 9 I went to live with her, Anyway, she’s watching CNN (<3), and Alex & I go into the green room to talk with her. I give it to her straight with three pregnancy tests in my hand.

jme; alright, sorry you’re the basically the last person to know, but i’m pregnant.
nini; /surprise smile, “oh! congrats sweetheart!” blah blah blah.

I definitely was in shock from that point on, but she was trying to hug me and whatnot. Definitely not what I expected. Pap was already in bed and she was trying to urge me to wake him up and tell him the news, which wasn’t happening.

We go to bed; wake up.
take the digital test.
“Pregnant”
lovely. I’m getting used to the shock factor.
“Hey, Alex, I’m still pregnant.”
hahaha.

I stayed in bed most of the day of the 14th. Alex went home, got some stuff, showered and whatnot. Before we went to bed I notice really light pink blood, and absolutely have a fit.

And we’re en route to Wheeling Hospital in the middle of the night.
Four hours later, I’ve had a complete pelvic exam, and blood test showing I’m now 6-7 weeks pregnant.
Still surreal.

Next day at work is a field day.
Everyone gives you looks like you’re supposed to be like, “Yeah, I’m pregnant.”
My tummy is burning like there’s acid accumulating into a fire.
I worked in softlines, so they’re all giving me mommy tips, telling me how sick i’m gonna be, and fat…
“you’re so tiny now & you’re gonna be HUGE!”
lovely, thanks.

Then at work a couple days later, the real fun starts. Of course no one can ask me anything, so everyone’s on Bev’s ass asking her a million questions. Stupid rumors start, and the immaturity shows.

An ex friend of mine starts rambling on how I’ve ruined my entire “party life” and my life in general. Good to know. For those of you who have seen my “party life” it was going to end sooner or later anyway. Most likely in a cemetary.

St. Patricks day, I worked all day and was having terrible pain on my left side (where i usually have cysts). So, again, being parinoid I think tubular pregnancy, or worse, and we go to OVMC hoping to be out in less time. Not happening. After waiting for a couple hours in a waiting room with some lady in a terrible state vommiting constantly (apparently they had no rooms), I get a room. I get a cathetar. I get an ultrasound.

After sheer panick for hours, I hear my babies heartbeat, saw him/her move, and got a picture.
I can’t expain how relieved I am knowing everything’s okay.
My mother had various miscarriages and so has my aunt, so I’m going to be worried extra.

Everything is still surreal and new to me.
I’m still the same person, I just have a lot of growing up to do.
My 20th birthday is on Easter and I will be almost 12 weeks pregnant.

I’m still in shock.

Well, last night I proved to myseklf that I actually am human, have feelings, and apparently a deathwish.

& i’m quitting drinking.
For real this time.

I scared myself enough to wake up. Finally.

Not the happy times, not the good old times, the laughs/smiles, the love, the “greener side.”

Not a thing.

And you contemplate why you even have a purpose, or even try day-to-day.

You question your existance and wonder what it would be like if you were not.

But sometimes, there’s things even sleeping forever can not cure.

goodnight.

I found out today that the company I work for is discontinuing our photo lab, which is where I spend most of my days. I think the whole photo lab team is pretty sad that we’re all going to be split up among the store now. At the same time, I can not wait to get out of retail. I want set hours, set pay, and an occupation that’s actually making a difference. Did I mention I’m also unmotivated about going back to college? Well, I am. But, it has to be done. So, I’m thinking of applying and possibly going to nursing school in the fall. Juggling work and school is going to be the tough part, and staying sane is going to be the hardest.

My dreams are completely different from reality. I would love nothing more than to own a coffee shoppe/bakery near the ocean, or ANYWHERE. Really good coffee, a cupcake, and a nice book to read in a relaxing atmosphere. What’s better than that scenario? Not much. But unfortunately, there’s a risk you have to take in opening a business of your own, especially one of that nature. There will always be hospitals to work in, and people to care for. I’m just not sure if taking chances is what I need to get myself into. I’ve already went to college once, and then decided I didn’t want to do anything with what I had learned. Money spent for a hobby. Oh well, I’m sure there has been worse situations. So, in conclusion, I’m left with dreams and reality with no direction. Typical Jayme.

Someday I will find my way, but as of now I’m just going to dance with opportunity.

Oh, and for you lovely English speaking folk; Láska = love in the Czech lingo; hence the blog name. XD