What to Expect When You're Not Expecting

Well, when you're NOT expecting you can expect everyone else to be expecting. Basically, everyone around you will get pregnant before you...and I mean everyone.

As I've said before, my God is a very funny man. He has a twisted sense of humor...I don't get it, but I do respect it. Every time I hear about a new pregnancy I picture him in heaven sitting at a drum set and striking the rimshot with a loud ::ba-dum-tchsss!:: Want to know some of the people he makes parents before us? Here are a few examples:

The guy from high school that likes to show random, unsuspecting women pictures of his penis even though he's married. Yea, God will make him a daddy before Eddie. ::ba-dum-tchsss!::

The couple that wasn't even sure they wanted to be together last Christmas and neither have a job/education. God thinks they'll be fit parents.

The woman who openly drinks alcohol during her pregnancy with no qualms about it. Don't worry, she will be a mommy before you. You'll find yourself praying for more strength not to smack the drink out of her hand with your left hand while simultaneously smacking her across the face with your right.

"Oh, you're going to jail? Here! Let me make you a parent first!"- said God an acquaintance of yours.

"Oh, you've known each other for a milisecond? Here's a baby!"

Remember your abusive (in every sense of the word) ex-boyfriend? Yep. You betcha'! He'll be puffin' on a "It's a Boy" cigar any day now too.

All the "But we weren't even trying"-ers. ::sigh::

Two words...Jenelle Evans. ::ba-dum-tchsss!::

Ok, two more words...Amber Portwood. (Love me some Teen Mom references.)

In this difficult time you'll recall stories from work of mothers who delivered their 5th baby but didn't even have custody of the other 4 children because the state took them away.

You'll care for babies at work whose parents snorted cocaine and shot up heroine for months before the baby came out prematurely. You'll smile and be polite to the parents' faces but at night you'll ask God why they get to be parents but it is so difficult for you.

When you're not expecting you can expect the pregnant women to be everywhere. Everywhere you turn you'll see them, complete with their gravid bellies and inside out belly buttons...just staring you down like a cyclops.

When you're not expecting, expect to be blind-sided by new pregnancies. I can assure you that you will be caught off guard but you can also be somewhat prepared. What I recommend doing is having responses on reserve for such moments.

While out for ice cream and you see an old friend of a friend. You recall how she used to have an eating disorder and note that she's still rail-thin.
Her - "Hey Rachel! How are you? Good! Yea, I'm doing well too...just got some ice cream. Eating for two these days! Baby was craving ice cream!"
God - "ba-dum-tchsss!"
Me - "Wow, that's so exciting, congratulations! When are you due?"
Her - "End of the month! It's going so fast!"
The nurse in you can't help but already diagnose the baby with IUGR/SGA. As you watch her enter the bathroom you can only hope that she isn't depriving the baby of any necessary nutrients.

After getting some Chinese take out with the hubby, you see an old classmate of yours pushing a baby stroller. A baby stroller?! That was fast!
"Jane?! Hey! How have you been? Is that yours?" ::as you peek into the stroller::
"Haha, yea, I didn't steal it!"
"Haha, ok good! How old is she?" ::noting the pink headband::
"Thanks, she's 4 months."
"Aw, she's so sweet! I'm so happy to see everything is going well with you guys!"
As you walk away you do the math and realize that she was pregnant while you were in class together...well into her 2nd trimester, in fact. The realization that she probably hid her pregnancy from you to spare your feelings starts to surface and you feel lousy.

I like to think I've perfected the look of maintaining a smile while it feels like I was just kicked in the gut. My comments are genuine but so are these underlying feelings. It's a weird mixture.

So, what does it feel like? Let me try to describe a scene for you. I remember once Eddie and I were in a meeting and he got a text message from someone on his phone. So-and-so was pregnant and they were having a boy! I wish there was a camera on my face when Eddie leaned over and whispered it to me. I wonder if the feelings I felt inside could be seen on the outside. If not, I wish I had some sort of device in me that could measure it. My stomach dropped, my heart skipped what felt like multiple beats, and my blood chilled. I feel like everything in me sank/lurched. This "wave?" that came over me was so intense but yet so quick. I was able to push it away and smile back at Eddie and whisper "That's awesome news!" We exchanged a small high-five. When I turned back to look at the speaker, I felt my face flush and I had to dig my thumbnail into my index finger to keep me from tearing up. I prayed to God that I could keep it together. I couldn't cry in the middle of this meeting. I have to wait until I'm back home...safe in my bed or in the shower. What feeling is that? What do I call that wave of sickness? Is it envy? Is that why they say "green with envy" because it's momentarily nauseating? I don't know what it is but I just learn to cope with it. If it is envy then I know it's wrong but how do I stop it? 

"Well then, Rach, if you're so emotionally unstable, who can get pregnant?" Um, well, do you want an honest answer? My close friends and family are allowed to get pregnant. People are also allowed to get pregnant if I know that they have also had infertility struggles. That's the reality of it. I realize that all these pregnancies need to happen in order for the human race to continue but I just wish it was our turn.

I'm also aware this type of thinking makes me look silly but I don't need anyone else's judgment. I worry daily about God's judgement over me. When I cry does He think it's because I don't trust him? I do all the things I am expected to do. I walk the line that I assume He wants me to. I jump through all the hoops that I am supposed to and climb each and every obstacle He puts before me. I am married and I love my husband more than I can wrap my own brain around (no, really, the love I have for this man is beyond my own comprehension). We both have jobs, we have supportive families, we can provide for and love a baby to the utmost extent...but no, we're the ones that must wait. And as if these feelings aren't tough enough to stomach...I also have the feelings of guilt and shame. Like I'm crazy, or weird, or two-faced, or cold-hearted for feeling the way that I do inside while trying to be happy and supportive to everyone else. It's a whirlwind of emotions that I carry with me each day. I don't know if I would call this a "Why Me?" post but rather a "Why Them?" or a "Why Them and Not Us?"

Photo courtesy of my talented brother-in-law - JF Photography

Germany vs. America
(I forgot "facts" on my last blog post so here are 20 more for ya!)

161.   Engagement rings aren't as big of a deal as they are back home. It's rare for someone to have a large stone in their ring. The wedding ring is just a band. I like our customs way better...

162.   In Russia, they wear the ring on the right hand. Eddie's father had a hard time accepting the fact that Eddie and I wear ours on our left hand.

163.   They have about 5 Gatorade flavors in Germany. What do we have in the States? Greater than or equal to 25 I'm sure. A lot of people don't know what it is here.

164.   Europeans write the day, the month, and then the year. It's momentarily confusing but I'm getting used to it. In my opinion, their way makes more sense. 

165.   Ok, let's take a second to discuss the commercials on late night German TV. Trash! Worse than "Girls Gone Wild" trash. I'm talking 20-30 sequential 30 second long commercials advertising hotlines for all different "types" of women. I couldn't believe it, it was never-ending not to mention grotesque!

166.   If you're going somewhere to swim in Germany, you typically wear normal clothes there. Change when you get there. Shower afterwards, and put on the same clothes with clean undergarments. Here, you wear your suit there with a cover up over top. I remember I felt silly have Eddie's 10 year old sister help me out with the system at the "Laguna."

167.   Similarly, when you get to said swimming place (usually indoors) do not be shocked to learn that men and women change/shower in the same area. I'll never forget the first time I entered what I thought to be the women's changing room only to be greeted by a strange man's bare ass. Talk about awkward... I'll be changing my kids in a bathroom stall.

168.   Their summer break is ridiculously short. School ends in late June/early July and starts again in late August like ours does. Hah, maybe it has something to do with the 1,233,534 holidays they get a year! (Fact 158 on previous blog.)

169. Everyone has health insurance/coverage here, be it private or public. They have to.

170.   Our hotels are bigger and better in the States. Most of ours have a pool. You would have to go to a "Wellness Hotel" to be guaranteed a pool over here. There are many smaller hotels in the villages but nothing like ours.

171.   They don't have cheerleaders in Germany. I mean come on they might as well not have sunshine and rainbows. Jokes, jokes! There are cheerleaders but it's just a sport. They don't regularly cheer on a certain team.

172.   What we would call the second floor, they would call the first floor...once again, momentarily disorienting!

173.   I see a lot more graffiti in Germany/Switzerland. Maybe they think it's artsy. I don’t like it...

174.   Germany is only 3 times the size of Ohio but has over 7 times as many people. That's about 82 million people living in an area half the size of Texas!

175.   Because of the population density, land is scarce and more expensive to buy.

176.   My baby boys will DEFINITELY wear lederhosen...take a moment to get a visual of that one...so cute!

177.   Sometimes if I'm running somewhere real quick, I'll go with my hair a little damp. Well, don't do this in front of your German/Russian mother-in-law because you'll hear about it for sure! It's CRAZINESS to go out with wet hair. They even have multiple hair dryers at thermal baths so you can dry it before walking outside. Come on people, wet hair doesn't cause pneumonia! Get with it!

178.   This isn't a fact just something kinda funny. My German isn't 100% yet so when there is a conversation going on and I don't understand the context, I'll zone out. Well, many-a-times I'll be listening to them jibber-jabber and all of a sudden everyone will stand up to leave. I just look around at everyone, clueless. I start to gather my things too and think in my head "Oh, ok, I guess we're leaving now?" Ugh... :(

179.   On the clothing labels the washing instructions are mostly symbols. It doesn't say "Machine was cold with like colors, tumble dry low, remove promptly, cool iron when needed." Instead, they have a triangle with an X through it and a square with a circle in it...clearly meaning "No chlorine bleach, tumble dry low"...

180.  There are many doctors that still make house calls. "Ain't nobody got time fo dat!" - said every US doc in unison!

Dear Pa, I Still Don't Get It

Today is Father's Day and if there is anything I've learned from my (almost) two years of living here in Germany, it's how much I appreciate and miss my Pops. This blog is for him.

Let's keep it real by saying that things growing up were not always picturesque...but the older I get the more I realize how impossible it is to have a "perfect family." Let's just say my family puts the "fun" in "dysfunctional" and I am very satisfied with mine.

Let's start from the very beginning. To this day, I still don't get why God chose me out of all 4 of your kids to be your doppelganger (another German word we stole). Wouldn't it make more sense for a son to grow up being the spitting image of his dad? Ever since I was little, family members and friends of the family would call me "Lil' Lenny." It was always creepy hearing that if I "only had a mustache" I would be just like you. Today, I carry this title with pride. I am slightly more impartial to little girls that look like their dads too these days. If I see one at the store, I give her a quick wink. If I care for a baby girl at work that looks like her dad...I give her extra sweetease/sugar water (jk). I like to think there is a special place in heaven for all the daddy's girl look-a-likes. 

I still don't get how you are able to do, fix, and repair everything. I know a lot of children think this of their fathers but I'm serious people...the man can fix anything! But where does all this random knowledge and skill come from? In my eyes, it was simply always there. You know your dad's a handyman when one of your baby brother's first sentences is: "Dad'll fik it!" - "Dad will fix it!" When one of our toys broke "Dad'll fik it!"  If our bike got a flat tire "Dad'll fik it!" or even if someone broke a glass in the kitchen, he'd yell "It's ok! Dad'll fik it!"

I knew things were going to hell in a hand basket with you and mom the day I saw a repairman in our kitchen. In all my years of life we never called a repairman, plumber, electrician, cable man, mechanic, lawn or construction company, etc. etc. etc. I harbor a secret hatred for repairmen because it means my dad is missing. I'm sure the unsuspecting repairman that day felt my stare bore through him with all the intensity of "...and what are you doing here?"

I'm just going to dab on this subject because it needs said. I mean it with the utmost respect too...I still don't get how you didn't commit homicide after being with mom for so many years. Let's be honest everyone...everyone!...she's not the easiest of people to live with. I made it to around the 18 year mark and things started getting blurry. We can cohabit for about 2 weeks before our strong personalities start to collide.  (Mom, you know I'm right, and I love you still!) Dad, you've been dealing with and loving this woman for many more years than us kids and it needs to be acknowledged and applauded. Congratulations on avoiding 25-life.

I think I need to quote our good family friend Ani Difranco here:

Growing up it was just me and my mom

against the world

and all my sympathies were with her

when I was a little girl

But now I've seen both my parents

play out the hands they were dealt

and as each year goes by

I know more about how my father must have felt

I just want you to understand

that I know what all the fighting was for

and I just want you to understand

that I'm not angry anymore

Growing up I think kids naturally side with their moms but as I get older I recognize a lot of the struggles my dad must have gone through during the divorce too. Although I believe in my heart that my parents could have tried a little harder, I am aware of the pain that both sides feel as a family breaks apart.

Hey Pops, I still don't get how you were able to take us fishing all those times and year after year. You were only able to get your line in the water for probably a total of 10 minutes because you were busy baiting our hooks, retrieving our snagged lures, untangling our lines from each others/the motor (Bronson!), taking fish off our line, getting bobbers from trees, and breaking up fist fights...all while steering the boat. Ok, maybe I get how you took us, but the fact that you didn't throw us overboard and leave us to drown in Crystal Lake is amazing. That's not to say we didn't come back unharmed. We knew going out with dad meant bumps, bruises, scratches, or an occasional stick up the nose :(... The drive home was always capped off with a "Don't tell mom..." "Don't tell mom Brandon fell in the lake again." "Don't tell mom we went to McDonald's." You put up with a lot of crap...no, literally...remember when Bronson crapped himself at Sonny's Bait Shop in Bessemer? ::sigh:: Good times, Pops. Good times. Thanks.

I still don't get why I was the one to go to work with you every summer. Even though you have two sons, I was the one up on the roof with you a majority of the time. I think Julie and I put way more time in roofin' than Brandon and Bronson. Seems a bit backwards doesn't it? Thanks to you I know how to tear a roof, install drip edge, cut caps, lay shingles, and side a house. I feel as comfortable with a nail gun as I do with a curling iron. I'm as nimble as a cat on a 12/12 pitch roof and can climb ladders like a champ. Every day we went to work together you would introduce me to the home owner and tell them that you were teaching me how important it is to go to college. I get that now. Although I miss working outside sometimes, manual labor is hard work. The fact that you've done it your whole life is admirable and the dignity you taught me that comes with a job well done will stay with me forever.

 (Just roofin' our shed, no big deal.)

 (That's a Blow Pop, not a cig, so chill.)

 Proud!

(Roofin' the dog house with the extra material.)

Everything I know about classic rock, I owe to my pops. I can proudly say that my first concert wasn't N*Sync, Backstreet Boys, or 98 degrees...but rather Aerosmith with my father! I knew that when I came home and Van Halen or Styx was playing...it was cleaning time. My dad still quizzes me when songs come on the radio - "Who 'dis?" or as he reaches for the radio knob to turn it up -"For fitty!" which means - "I'll give you 50 bucks if you know who sings this song." Of course, he doesn't follow through with the bet but seeing his face light up when I get the singer/group/song title correct is worth way more than 50 bucks. Thanks to him, I can sing along to almost every Lynyrd Skynyrd, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Journey, Pink Floyd, Queen, Eagles, etc. etc. etc song...all the while being accompanied by Lenny B. to my left on the air guitar and steering wheel drums!

I won all my street fights thanks to my dad. From an early age we wrestled. You vs. Me, Brandon, and Bronson. I remember you picking me up by my ears and laughing. You would lift us up with one hand and squish us against the ceiling! Your classic finisher...dragging us by our toes. All the while, mom screaming from upstairs "Be easy, Lenny! You'll hurt them!" And she was right, one of us usually ended up crying...but we're tougher for it! To this day, I can't walk past my dad sitting on the couch without him sticking his leg out last second trying to trip me. It's weird but I've come to expect it. Thanks to you, I have ninja-like reflexes (not really). What other father gifts their daughter with a switch blade? How about pepper spray or a taser for Christmas? What kind of dad tells their daughter if they don't have access to brass knuckles to grip a roll of quarters or a flat stone? I know where all the pressure points are in the human body. If you heard "I'm going for the jugular!" at our house you had about a 0.3 second window to block yourself from being choked. Normal or not normal? Normal, people!

I still don't get how you absorb and remember any random slang term I ever used. I can use something only once and you will use it properly in a sentence the next day and three years later.

-"Hey, dad! Whatcha' doin'"

-"Oh, nothin'. Just sippin' on some sizzurp."

-"How was the wedding last night, dad?"

-"Fine. Everyone was Patrick Schwasted."

-"Are you going fishing with Uncle Steve this weekend?"

-"For shizzle my nizzle."

-"What did you get at the store?"

-"Bitches, blunts and fo'ties..::pause::...JAY KAY!"

Thanks for trying to stay up with the times. Your attempts at staying up-to-date always make me giggle. It's still funny to me that you were the first one in the family to get a smart phone...

And last but not least...I still don't get how you let me move away. I guess the joke's on you because you made me go on the family vacation trip to Mexico when I met Eddie. Were you already sweating a little when I told you I wanted to go and visit him the first time? How hard was it to let me fly across the world to visit a family you didn't even know? How hard was it walking me down the aisle? Was it weird knowing that at the end of the aisle waited a man that was going to take me 5,000 miles away from you? What does it feel like to be the one to drive me to the airport to leave for good...not knowing when you'll see me again? If it feels anything like it does on this side of it...it hurts and it aches. I wish I could be with you on this day to celebrate and every day. I'm sure you take small comfort in knowing that I am safe and happy with Eddie now too.

"Alles Gute zum Vatertag!"

...to all the daddies out there all the way from Germany! I also pray to the Lord that this will be Eddie's last Father's Day as just a son/grandson.

 I love you, Pops!

Dear Ma, I Get It Now

Tomorrow is Mother's Day and although mine is on the other side of the world, I'm still lucky enough for her to be just a phone call or a plane ride away. This blog is for her.

There were a lot of things growing up that would frustrate me. My mom wasn't perfect and I wasn't the perfect daughter (very close though, guys, I was pretty darn close). ;) Now that I am grown, I "get" a lot more of her decisions than I did back then. Here are just a few:

Dear Ma,

Let's start from the beginning...thanks for breast feeding me. One of the first good decisions you made in my life...besides the decision to make me at all! ;)


When I was in elementary school I used to be ashamed of my school lunches. I knew at an early age that my lunches were different from the other kids'. When I look back now, I get it: 
-Thanks for packing apple juice boxes/milk thermoses instead of Capri Suns or Huggies.
-Thanks for the PB & J's instead of Lunchables. (Have you guys seen the sodium content in those things?) Even after I begged for them in the stores, you never budged. Never. (Never, people! I never got a damn Lunchableeeeaaaaa!!!!) ::stomps feet...pouts::
-Thanks for making those PB & J's on wheat bread. Even after I cried and begged you to switch out the "brown bread" for "white bread," again, you didn't budge! ::crosses arms...hmmph:: I didn't even realize there was other types of bread until I saw all the other kids at school munchin' on this exotic "white bread."
-Thanks for cutting said sandwiches diagonally. I used to feel bad for the kids whose sandwiches were cut down the middle. And ::gasp:: God forbid if the sandwich wasn't cut at all! I'd probably keel over if I pulled out an uncut sandwich from my lunch box!
-Thanks for grapes instead of Gushers or the apples instead of Fruit Roll-Ups.
-When I did get sweets, and even though I was embarrassed to take it out of my lunch box, thanks for cutting the package of Little Debbies in half. I realize now that no elementary school child needs that many calories.
- Heck, thanks for packing my lunches at all!
With your help I was able to dodge the bullet of childhood obesity and juvenile diabetes. Thank you.



I remember when I was only allowed to go to either Toronto in 6th grade OR Washington D.C. in 8th grade...but not both. I realize now that it was a very fair choice. I mean, at least you were able to pay for one trip at all! I chose the 8th grade trip but I still hated sitting alone at the lunch table while everyone was in Toronto in 6th grade! But I want you to know I'm no longer salty about it because...I get it now.

Remember when I was in high school and I just ASSUMED I was going to all the formal dances? Remember when I just ASSUMED you and dad would be paying for my ticket, my dress, my hair, my nails, my dinner, my pictures, my limo, my tanning (::gulp::), my shoes, my jewelry...and you did? Yea...I remember that too...and thanks. Back then I didn't realize how much I took for granted...but I get it now.


Remember when I wasn't allowed to watch movies with boys laying down? Remember how every light in the room had to be on? Ugh...I do. How embarrassing! If we started to get relaxed and slouched or if I leaned back a little...surely enough, you'd whip your head around the corner and point directly at me "Rachel! Sit up!" I'm tempted to roll my eyes even as I type this but instead, I'll say thanks. Thanks to your guidance, I stayed on track when I was young. I will be able to share the joy of having a baby with my husband. (Let's not even talk about riding in cars with boys...when I get in the car with Eddie, I'm still tempted to look over my shoulder to see if you're peeking out the window!) Despite how frustrating/humiliating it was...I get it now.

Thanks for always having my back. I learned from an early age that no one can pull the wool over my mother's eyes. If I came home crying from (high)school because a teacher swore at me and embarrassed me, I was only momentarily surprised when that same teacher apologized the next day...and stated my mother really cares about me. (Mr. Centofanti had no idea what hit him). If I got cheated somehow at a store you went back in there and got me a full refund. I get my wit from you and I will not tolerate injustices of any kind. I like to believe that people think twice before double-crossing a Bartolone woman. God help the people that hurt my future children...

Speaking of not being able to fool you...remember when I used to tell you I was staying at a friend's house and you used to say "Ok, honey, sounds great...just let me talk to her mother real quick." Well played, mother...well played! I will be doing that one with my kids too. You always had to confirm that there would be "parental/adult supervision" and that I wasn't lying and staying at a boy's house. Again, annoying and embarrassing...but I get it now.

Remember that time I pushed your head...and you chased me down into the dining room and broke a metal (ok, probably aluminum) broom in half by beating me in, on, and around my head, torso, back region? Haha, yea, good times. I remember that too. Well, I get that now. There was no way I could have gotten away with that. I can't remember whatever possessed me to push your head but, Ma, let's be honest, you probably deserved it. Hahhahahahahah. No, just kidding, for realsies though, thanks for not letting us get away with too much. When I would visit other friends' houses and I would hear them talk back to their parents I would flinch for them! When they spat out something smart I cowered from instinct. I thought for sure they were going to get a smack in the mouth. I was like "Oooo snap, you gon' done it now, girl! You's about to get your booty whooped!" When it didn't come I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone "Whoa, wait, you're not going to smack her for saying that to you?!?! Hm...ok...should I smack her for you?" 

(I never knew there were others that could relate to this picture. I thought my mother was the only maniac in town. She need only shake the utensil drawer and us kids scattered like cockroaches. The simple sound of her getting up, walking into the kitchen, and searching for a wooden spoon made us stop in our tracks. Even if I was mid-swing at my brothers' faces or if they were about to crack me in the leg with a hockey stick...the sound of that drawer made us freeze because we knew what was coming. It was textbook Pavlov's classical conditioning!)

Thanks for not letting me dye my hair or get my belly button pierced...even after I begged you in high school to let me go with Courtney Agnesi. You told me when I was 18 I could do whatever I wanted. You want to know the crazy thing though? My 18th birthday came and went without me noticing. Heck, a decade has passed and I still have never dyed my hair and, to this day, my ears are the only things that are pierced. I save a lot of money being all natural so I know Eddie thanks you too! But how did you know that I would make this decision?! You're very tricky, Mom...and it's borderline creepy. You're a bit of a gambler but I respect your bluff. I see you...and I'm keepin' my eye on you too.

Remember that time I had to pay my own way through college? You might not know it but I was very bitter at times thinking: "Did they not know, when they had FOUR children, that we would be going to college when we were older? Why didn't they plan better?!?" Well, you best believe that because I paid my own way, I didn't waste any time in college. I went to class, never failed one, never had to repeat one, never switched majors, never switched universities, and finished on time. Thanks for always keeping me on track. No, really, thanks a lot for that one, I get it.

Even though you weren't able to fit college into the family budget we got to go on family vacations every year! These were some of the best times of my life. Thanks, Madge!

Growing up I got in trouble for saying "crap," "suck," or singing the song "I hate myself for loving you" because "Rachel, you should never hate yourself for loving someone!" Thanks for always teaching us to watch our mouths. I think some of your efforts were in vain because when need be, I can still have the mouth of a trucker. You still get an A for effort. Nice try stealing my Snoop Dogg CD's when I was younger too. Might I suggest you find a better hiding spot though before you have grandkids. I see where you're coming from but I think it's time to accept the fact that I am approaching 30 and I sometimes say the "S" word. Look how you talk to grandma!

Not a very important one, but I remember when you used to flip your shi...I mean, flip your "lid"...when us kids would vacuum in the living room and we would ram the end-table legs with the vacuum cleaner. Oooh man do I get it now. Real wood furniture is expensive. Just ask Eddie the heat he gets for not using a coaster.

Thanks for teaching me appropriate table manners. It really bugs me too now when someone holds their spoon wrong. Thanks for all the home cooked meals as well. I have some great memories sitting around the dinner table. Cooking for a family of 6 at least 6 times a week can be hard...I get that now.

Remember when you used to drag us to church? No, I mean literally drag us. You were holding Julie's hand, while Brandon was on your hip, while pushing Bronson in the stroller, and demanding that I hold onto the side of said stroller. I bet we put up a bit of a fight getting ready for church each weekend. Thanks for teaching me about God and our Savior, Jesus Christ. Even though 2 hours church services is a lot to ask from a child, I realize now that you were just keeping your promise to God...a promise to spread his word to your children. Thank you for leading by example. My faith is one of the best gifts you've given me.

I realize you did know best and although it's years/decades late, I want you to know I appreciate it and I love you! Don't give up yet though, I still need my mommy!

My other mothers

(2 of my 4 grandmothers - Grandma Louise is in heaven and Oma Kroeker couldn't travel to America for this picture.) The left one is Oma Frick and the right one is my Grandma Gent...let the record show that she has also never dyed her hair. She is very proud to tell everyone that that red is her natural color. The woman is an angel.)

My mother-in-law, Olga (A.K.A "Mama Frick") and my mom, Tammi.

Now, see God, I get it. I get my mom's sacrifices and I appreciate her hard work. I understand almost everything she did in her life was for the benefit of my siblings and me. I'm ready to do the same for my babies...well, not the exact same, but my variation of her love. I've passed the test in life of understanding my mother. I've passed this test while she is still alive and healthy for me to say thank you. I've passed this test even before I have babies of my own...now will you please, please, let this be my last mother's day as a non-mommy?

"Alles Gute zum Muttertag!"

...to all the mommies out there all the way from Germany! Wishing all those who also can't be with their moms today some peace too. Find comfort knowing one day you will be reunited and that you are loved no matter the distance! Sending out a special prayer of peace to all the women who want so badly to be a mommy but just can't right now for whatever reason. Stay strong and have a Happy Mother's Day!

Germany vs. America

151.   Ed doesn't put butter or salt on his corn-on-the-cob and he eats it with his bare hands. I have to yell at him to use my cute little corn-on-the-cob holders shaped conveniently like little corn-on-the-cobs! I don’t know if it’s a German thing or just him being barbaric again but it's weird. Last summer I didn't have any corn-on-the-cob...it just isn't that popular here.

152.   In German, there is a verb for when you are about to go up and say something to someone but at the last second you realize that that person isn't who you thought they were. In German, you would say something like "Oh! Entschuldigung, ich habe dich verwechselt!" Which means "Oh, I'm sorry. I (insert the verb)." Eddie asked me the word for that in English and I told him there was no translation. It's a bit longer but I just told him to say "Oh, I'm sorry. I had (mistaken you for/you confused with) someone else." (?)

153.   One day Eddie was in the bathroom at my mom's house and yelled to me "Whoa, Rach, there's a HUGE ant in here! QUICK! COME SEE!" so I jumped up immediately. I was a little excited what would get such a rise out of Ed Frick but when he showed it to me and I was like..."Um, this is it?...Ed, that's a normal black ant." I guess even the ants are bigger in America! I was disappointed because I was half-expecting a mutant or something...

154.   They call rap/hip hop music "black music" over here. Hm...that wouldn't fly in the States...

155.  Similarly, ask a German what this sweet is called: 

I'm sure you'll be equally surprised/horrified/offended when they tell you it's called an "N*gger Kiss." I almost fell off my chair in my integration course when my teacher called it that too. Wow...I couldn't believe my ears. I then went on about a 20 minute rant about how you should never say that word... Eeeeek! Not good.

156.   They write their numbers a little differently here. Especially their ones, sevens, and nines. Some people write their sevens like that in America but who writes a one like that? 

157.   The way Eddie counts on his fingers is different too. (TRY THIS!) I count 1-index finger 2-index finger and middle finger 3 - middle 3 fingers 4 - thumb bent in. Ed counts 1- thumb! 2- thumb and index finger 3- first 3 fingers 4 - pinky down...I'm sorry but that's just a little too weird for me. Our kids are doing it my way!

158.   I swear every other day is a holiday in Germany. If I had a quarter for every time I heard Ed say "Today's a holiday in Germany," I'd be rich. Furthermore, Eddie doesn't even know what holiday it is half of the time, just that people don't have to work. Hm, must be nice!

159.   Ed knows the meaning of "WT" and "jorts." He recognizes them and uses them both correctly in a sentence. He makes me so proud! :*)

160.   They don't have bright yellow school buses in Germany. The buses to school look just like the public buses but they change the sign in the front. The kids have to pay too! Granted, it's a reduced cost...but still. We're spoiled in the US!

My Pretend Wedding Day

Two days after I returned home from my months in Germany with Eddie, he called me with...you guessed it....more bad news. (I mean, why not, right?) He told me that the doctors said he had to do more treatment...double the amount actually...8 cycles or 6 months total. The news felt like I had been kicked in the gut...by a bull.

"What? 6 months? No...he's supposed to be done in May. The day is already marked on my calendar, people! He can't do anymore treatment - he feels too lousy! These extra cycles would push it back to...::mumbles and counts on fingers:: May...June...July...August...AUGUST!?!?!"

Our wedding was August 28, 2010.

::cue Panic Attack No. 134::

So what did I do next? Oh, come on people, you know how I do...I prayed and I cried, of course! No...ok, let's be real. They weren't prayers...they were begs. They weren't cries...they were howls. (For this blog, I tried typing "cry" into a thesaurus but none of the words fit.) I'm sure you all know by now what a Rachel Cry is. It's not a sad little whimper with a tissue box. I'm talkin' a full blown screaming-into-a-pillow meltdown! All-the-while, drenching said pillow case in snot, in tears, in runny mascara, and in drool. Yep. Sometimes I cry so hard that saliva strings from my mouth. Have you ever cried so hard that you thought your eyeballs were going to pop out? No? Hm, well, that probably classifies you as "normal" but let me tell you, it is not pretty. After that, sometimes there is nothing you can do except call your Mama. So that's what I did...and for probably the up-teenth time in the past few months the woman went into damage control mode.

And...we started to cancel the wedding.

And again, when I say "we" I mean my mother and my sister. Eddie and I probably still could have technically gotten married that day but when I looked down the aisle, I wanted to see MY Eddie waiting for me. I didn't want to see him standing there sick, swollen, shiny, and bald...if he could even stand that long at all! Who knows if he would even feel well enough to travel? Who knows anything for sure right now? Not me! Nothing felt guaranteed in my life those days. I'd given up on planning anything.

Many of my friends told me to just get married in the courthouse when I was in Germany. This relationship was so wild that I wanted everyone who supported us throughout the years to be there. I wanted my friends and family to be there to witness it...especially my Grandma Gent. I needed everyone there to support us and then later to party with us. I wanted it to be in God's house and I wanted Eddie to be healthy. All that other jazz was for the birds.

"But Rachel, what about chair sashes?!?"

"What do you mean you haven't picked a honeymoon location?!?"

"Do you want tall vases on the table or short round ones with water and floating candles?"

"Are you going to take dance classes with your fiance?"

"Have you thought of something the bridesmaids can put their flowers in at the table?"

"Should the groomsmen have a pocket squares or boutonnieres?"

::blank stare::

When it comes to wedding planning, a lot of times you don't get your deposits back...even after you drop the "C" word...("C"ancer, people. Come on, we're classier than that). But through some slick talking from my mother we were able to move everything to the following year. I had some limited dates to choose from with our hall but we settled for July 30th. To this day that date doesn't feel right. In my head, my wedding anniversary is August 28 but alas...July 30, 2011 it had to be. It made me sick to think I had waited so long to finally be with him and now I had to wait a whole 'nother year. ::sigh::: I tried telling myself Rachel had to wait 7 more years for Jacob in the Bible...I can wait 1 more. (As long as Eddie doesn't suddenly marry my sister or plan to have babies with my maids. Hehe, Bible jokes. ;) )

The weeks went by and I felt like I was just going through the motions. Everyone at work was really sweet, asking about Eddie and giving their support, but I just felt hollow not being with him. I worked with over 200 women and many of them would ask about the wedding because, normally, girls love to gush about their big day...but I didn't want to talk about it. I know they meant well and were genuinely curious how the plans were coming along but I just couldn't muster up the energy to seem mildly interested. There were some girls that were planning weddings too and wanted to compare and chit-chat...but I was just a big ball of bitterness. When the other girls at work would start talking about bridesmaids jewelry or up-dos I felt my heart start to race. How nice it must be for everything to be falling right into place with your planning, ladies. How fantastic it must be when your biggest worry at the moment is that your slutty second cousin wants to show too much cleavage in her dress at the church. I'm sorry but I can't help you decide whether or not you should blow out the two candles or leave them lit after you light the unity candle together. (?!?!?!) My thoughts are preoccupied on my fiance battling cancer 5,000 miles away. Please, leave me alone with my poor "Why Me?" thoughts.

There was another nurse, Takara, who was planning a wedding at the same time too. She didn't like talking about the planning either. It was wonderful when I entered the break room and saw her sitting at the table eating her lunch. I knew I would not have to make small-talk with her about guest seating...or DJ music...or the ever-so-important decision between a stretch limo and a party bus. We both ate our sandwiches in silence...a blissful, well-appreciated silence. I also had many sweet women at work that would reassure me that what I was feeling was ok. One day on my lunch break (I swear I actually worked at work...not just took breaks) I expressed my frustration that I felt like everyone was double- or triple-lapping me in life to a nurse named Val. I told her I felt stuck at the starting line while everything was coming so easily to everyone else and she told me this:

"Yes, well hun, these other girls may seem like they have pretty walls and they may appear to already be building a beautiful roof but you and Eddie are working on the most stable foundation you can build. You are filling in the cracks and taking your time. Your basement will be so strong that you will be able to build for years on it. Your foundation will be able to bare a heavy load and your house won't collapse with a small wind like some of the others may."

And I needed that. I'm telling you, my nursing friends were my counselors for years. I owe them a lot.

One sunny day, the bridal shop called to tell me my dress was -
::perky saleswoman voice:: "all ready to be picked up! Hehehe!" 
I murmured a thanks and hung up. Some days later, I received a letter in the mail reminding me that my dress was there and I can pick it up along with my bra, slip, and veil...I tossed the letter to the side.

I just couldn't think about it. I didn't want to pick my dress up. Heck...why should I? So it can hang in my closet for a year? Yea, great. Shit, maybe I'll put the damn thing on and sit around in my apartment in it like Miss Havisham. (Shame on you for not getting that reference.) When my wedding date finally rolls around just dust the cobwebs off of me and bring me to the church! How many brides do you know that dread picking up their dress?! I felt like I was crazy!

I was such an emotional wreck that my mother and sister planned a weekend to come down and pick up the dress with me.

 (En route to the bridal store...don't be too excited, Rach.)

(Yippee! Better hurry and get this thing home! Can't wait to put it in the back of a closet not to be seen again for over a year!)

And that's what I did too. The dress remained in my closet for months. Every time I had to get the vacuum out from the same closet I had to focus not to look at the dress. The veil and slip were hidden inside the big white bag too. I felt like if I looked directly at it I would lose any amount of self control I had with my feelings about that day. When I moved out of my apartment, the dress finally came out of the closet...and into my mother's basement, where it hung for months. I never even peeked at it. I felt like if I unzipped the zipper would unzip a flood of emotions and I didn't want to lose my mind. How messed up was I?

Eventually, I was able to get some more time off to fly back and be with Eddie on his birthday. I stayed for two weeks and then had to come back home to work.

I traveled to Germany 3 times during his treatment. We tried not to let his sickness bring us down. We still did fun things and tried to stay normal when he was feeling up to it.

Activities during first visit.

We went hiking, for walks, and had picnics. (That's our old pup, Tyson.)

On the days when he wasn't feeling so hot, friends came over to play video games with us.

(Thank goodness for Mario Kart!)

We went to the movies...tough crowd.

We went to clubs and danced.

We went out to dinner.

We went shopping.

We went to bars.

We went fishing...I hate fish.

Second visit.

 We went to the local pool...lathered in sunscreen, in the shade, plus a hat...not on my watch, Ed!

 Met up with friends.

 Went to street festival (AKA Dorffest)

Played poker.

 Celebrated his 22nd birthday with a BBQ and friends. (I live for this smile.)

Went bowling.

Third visit.

 We played corn hole in the sunshine. (No, they don't know this game here, just our family and friends. Eddie made those boards.)

He worked out.

Visited family.

Took Tyson for walks in the park.

I returned to Germany for the third time to be with him while he finished up his treatment and you could tell he was exhausted. He had many good days but he still had some pretty rough days too. I remember one day was especially hard for him with muscle and bone aches. He was in pain and I couldn't do anything for him so I ran him a bath. I let him soak alone in the tub but after a while I went in to check on him. He was just sitting there looking down at the water and I asked him if it would be ok if I helped him wash his back. (I love his back.) I tried to scrub hard and relax him with massaging. I washed his back and then his chest. I hadn't bathed an adult since I was in nursing school but my old habits kicked in and I started assessing his skin integrity. I took in his scars. As I washed his chest I counted the two from a biopsy. 1 from a chest tube. Eddie tried taking out the stitches himself and had left one suture in the left side. I laughed to myself. His arms had many old wounds from failed IV attempts. Bruises. I told him to put his legs up so I could wash them too. Small dots from the Neulesta injections on his thighs. One large scar from an old knee surgery. I started to wash below his knees. As I scrubbed his skinny legs, to my horror, the hair on his legs came off into the loofah! As I dipped it back into the water the hair floated away. I remember feeling the color drain from my face and my stomach drop. I left the bathroom and let Ed finish up alone. I told him I'd give him some privacy but I was the one that needed to be alone. As soon as I left the bathroom I dropped to my knees at the side of our bed and asked God to continue healing him. I didn't want him to be in pain anymore. I just scrubbed off the hair on my fiance's legs! This needed to end. I needed him healthy again. Now! I needed my sanity back!

August 10, 2010 was Eddie's last day of therapy and then I took him back to America with me. My family and friends hadn't seen him since January. They only saw pictures and got updates from me. It felt so good to present him to everyone. Healthy. Of course my mom and my aunt were a blubbering mess when they finally laid eyes on him again (crying is genetic in my family) but it felt really good to see my dad shake his hand...and then pull him into and awkward embrace. I just thought "My Eddie is so loved."

2.5 weeks later...I couldn't help but think today was the day we were supposed to be wed. I prayed to God for rain. I said "God, please show me a sign that this date truly wasn't meant to be our date. Make me feel a little better by sending in a storm or just a few hours of sprinkling." I felt a tinge of guilt when I ended my prayer though because I remembered another nurse, Michelle, was getting married that day too. (I later confessed to her and apologized). But you see, my God is a funny man, and instead of it being a really crappy, cloudy, rainy day...he made it one of the most beautiful days of the summer.

When I finally meet him, we're going to share some knee-slapping stories.
I can hear it now:
"Hahaha, yea, and remember that time you simply asked me for a few rain drops and I gave you a beautiful, sunny day instead? Yea, I figured you could handle that one too!"
"Hahaha yea, good one, God. Or hey, remember that time we successfully completed treatment and you gave us infertility? Where do you come up with this stuff? It's genius!"

Instead of donning a white gown and Eddie a tuxedo, on August 28, 2010 Eddie and I grilled and ate dinner together on my back porch. I thanked God that I had him here with me and he was on the road to recovery.

(Never thought I'd be so happy to see Eddie's crustache peeking through!)

Fast forward one year later.

 (Still had it slightly together in this picture)

 (Then Rev. Ash announced us as Mr. and Mrs. ... and I lost it)

I finally had my Eddie, I still had my faith, and we had our health...no amount of words or pictures could truly capture what this moment felt like...on my pretend wedding day.

Germany vs. America

141.   Lawn mowers are a lot smaller in Germany. Some of them need plugged in with an extension cord…weird! Also, you're not allowed to mow your grass on Sundays...or holidays. Dumb. Absolutely DUMB!

142.   German officials repeatedly tells its residents that Germany needs more babies…

143.   “Don’t they hate us over there?” I know it’s believed that all other countries dislike Americans but I want it to be known that I’ve only experienced kindness in Germany…even after they found out I was from America. Only heard hatred towards Bush.

144.   In Germany, you can't turn right at red lights. It's really frustrating!

145.   My cousin Tara actually discovered this: Euros have no smell to them. You know how dollars just have that "money smell?"...yea, not happening here with the paper bills.

146.   Similarly, American dollars are all one shape/size. Euros come in different sizes depending on the value. It's a good idea, I'm surprised blind people haven't complained...;)

147.   Chinese fortune cookies here have German on one side, and English on the other. Come on now, guys...

148.   It's funny to hear "Bob The Builder! Can we fix it? Yes, we can!" in German. It's something like: "Bob der Baumeister! Können wir das schaffen? Ja, wir schaffen das!" ("Bob the Build Master. Can we do it? Yes, we will do that!")

149.   Apparently skunks aren't that common in Germany. I taught Eddie that word the second time he came to see me when we saw one on a walk. He referred to it later as a "stunk" and I fell in love with him all over again! :) (I even tried clarifying when we smelled a skunk when we were driving and he said no, they don't have them).

150. Germany has no skunks, bears, raccoons, poisonous snakes, or tornadoes...BORING!