Apple Blossom Take Two

If you're thinking, but Miss G, how can you possibly have more to say about Apple Blossom, you've got another think coming.  Or is it "thing" coming?  One sounds right and one looks right, so who knows.  Do you?

Saturday, the epic eating began.  Ham and Eggs.  Spoonbread.  Bacon.  Country ham.  Brownies.  Pulled Pork Sandwiches.  Fresh squeezed lemonades.  Crab cakes.  Fruits.  Veggies.  Pasta salads. Pound cake.

So. Much. Food.

And I didn't even make it to the good corn dog stand this year!  (Yes, ladies, the one on the corner down towards the library).

I did, however, make it on NBC 4 in DC.  Next year I know to spend more time down at the front of the yard so that the rest of the world can see me on TV too, but I was happy enough reviewing the footage and finding my pink shirt and white capris, J-Man's pink shirt and jeans and Big Sis's green top and black capris.

The day itself was as beautiful as days can be.  We had lots of fun taking pictures of celebs like Bonnie Blair and Barry Sanders and country music stars I've never heard of but happily waved to anyway.  We clapped along with the bands, laughed at the commentator who's been doing that gig for thirty years and, I believe I mentioned, stuffed ourselves.

I got to see wonderful people (some of you!) and for not nearly enough time.

As the emotional highs of the day began to set with the sun, a new realization came to be.  I got in the car to go home with my family, but I just couldn't.  Overwhelmed with sadness and fears the only thing I could think was, this is it.  I'm infertile.

I couldn't blame the doctors anymore.  It's been 12 real months.  That's the definition.  Pretty clear.  No more is it that mean lady saying wildly ridiculous things and ushering me off to specialists.  Now it's warranted.  Now it's happening.

J-Man did what he does best.  He helped me out of the car.  We quickly explained to my parents that I wasn't feeling up to anything right then and we'd meet up with them later.  We walked around my high school campus and he reminded me how we are going to get what we want.  He reminded me that what we get might not be what we think we want, but it will be exactly what we want when we get it.  No matter how we get it. Or when.  Or what sacrifices come first.

He reminded me how we are strong.  I am strong.  How I wouldn't be able to go through this if I weren't strong.  He reminded me that while others have things I want, I have things others want.  That there's a balance, and we don't have the scale, but it does stay balanced.

He made goofy jokes and nearly embarrassed me in front of former teachers, classmates, and citizens of the town while talking wildly loud about poor fashion choices.

And as we got close to my friend's house where we would soon seek refuge, I held him close.  I told him the best truth I could think at the moment.

"J-Man," I said, voice still trembling from the tears. "I know you know there's no one else I would want to have a baby with. But there's no one else I would want to not have a baby with either."

We squeezed each other closely and decided to make the most of it.  By the time we got to M's, we were laughing again.  She might've known and maybe not.  I found myself telling parents of high schoolers about my SAT prowess (or, rather, that of my employees) and J-Man was getting teased for liking fizzy water.

I remembered the fireworks.  I remembered the sunshine.  And while in a couple hours I would realize my heart was spent and my ideas of going out on the town and seeing everyone and really having a bang-up good time were pretty unrealistic, for that while I was doing great.

The evening would go on with the lady who owned the house where we used to watch the parade, telling me my favorite story.  She hugged me too close, liquor on her breath, to tell me about a time twenty some years ago, that Big Sis and Big Bro were playing in the yard and Papa H said to her, "I've gotta go, Mama H is having my baby."  Back when the hospital was walking distance from her house.  And at 1:35 Nicole the G was born. That's how the story always went.  And she asks me what day is my real birthday.  And then eventually someone distracts her from her tight hold on me. Until next year.

By 10pm we were headed home, exhausted from the day. The smiles, genuine and forced alike, had taken their toll.  I told my J-Man I'd be calling the doctor this week.  That it was time for the next step in Plan Reasonable.

Now to start daydreaming about next Apple Blossom maybe having a belly or a baby to share the best festival ever.