“Pay via Paypal”

“Did you buy her any toys yet?”

The question came from one of my best friends and co-workers. I had to honestly admit I hadn’t really been buying her anything. Perhaps it was because I up until now had no money to buy anything. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t really sunken in yet that this was really happening.

“Take your stepdaughter with you and buy stuff. Let her pick the toys”

I had to admit, once again, that this advice was really good, and I was surprised I had not thought of it before. I didn’t want to wait though, so I went online and bought them both a teddybear. One of those TY bears for my stepdaughter (shocking have you can make a fortune on teddybears by simply enlarging their bloody eyes) and one bigger rabbit to my unborn daughter.

It was a peculiar moment. I was buying something for my own daughter. I suddenly had a direct relationship with her. I was picking out things for her. I had to stop and just take in that moment. Suddenly it became so very real.  Have I been in denial the whole time? Was the struggle to get where I am now last winter so bad that when it was finally over, I couldn’t shake it and continued to live in a state of limbo? I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Suddenly it was a simple question from a friend and one fluffy rabbit online bought via Paypal that made emotions just flood me. I mean, I have felt my girlfriends stumach. I’ve felt the bumps and the moves and everything. But no, a click on “pay via Paypal” did it. I was buying my daughter things. Real things for a real girl. My girl. My daughter. That silly looking fluffy rabbit is for her. I bought it for her.

 

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Two small thumps

I haven’t bothered your mother much about touching her stomach. You have to be a bit smart with these things considering everything we went through, and how much I fought for you.

But, this week I felt a startling sensation on my hand when I touched her stomach. It was you, and you kicked instantly as to say hello to me.

We were down at her familys pier, just talking about stuff. I think we touched upon the subject of overweight, and I was trying to tell your mom something when I placed the upside of my hand on her stomach.

Instantly I felt two thumps. I wasn’t sure what it was, thinking it was just her stomach doing something when she slightly moved – and not you. But, it was you. It was really you.

I kept my hand there a few more seconds, and you kicked hard. That was the first time we had any form of contact even if it came via your mothers stomach.

A few days ago I did it again, and you kicked so hard I felt my fingers move upwards.

I do apologise for playing a song from the soundtrack of the Trolls movie as your first song ever the other night, but your half sister was there and she loves Trolls. I couldn’t really go for my fave song –  Estranged by Guns N’ Roses right there and then. Maybe later?

You kicked though, either because you liked it or because you hated it. Hopefully the last. It really is some shit songs on that soundtrack, and they drive me nuts.

You know, I always imagined you being a girl. Even if I strayed a bit on that since my ex and I split up and everything changed. It was only fitting you were a girl. I know you by looks won’t be exactly the same girl as I envisioned you years ago, but from my side of DNA, genetics and what not of it you will be. My part of you will be the same. Perhaps my part of your spiritual essence of you is the same even if you will  look different? Perhaps you will be that girl I could almost feel was there beside me at times when I was struggling and not feeling the best.

I often missed you terribly and couldn’t get to you because you never had the chance to exist. I think I once wrote that you will never been exactly the same even if you got to be born later at one point. Maybe I was wrong?

Maybe my part of you will be just like I imagined it. You will be THAT person.

So, I finally get to meet you! It’s like you’ve been by my side for years now. And now you will step out from the spiritual world and into the physical world. And we will meet. You’re almost ready, kicking my hand from inside the womb to say hello to me and tell me; yes, I am here.

Breaking the news

We told her daughter the news last Saturday.

It was something she had dreaded for months and months. She was convinced her daughter would throw a fit of some sort. Fall into depression, cry hysterically, scream profanities or simply falling to sleep silently every night in tears over the nightmare news of a little sister.

Perhaps my relationship with her would suffer greatly. Maybe she would hate my guts over how I basically “stole her mother away”.

Even I thought it would pose a bit of a problem, and I often told her that it most likely would be a bit of crying and screaming but it would pas with time. It’s not like the daughters experience with her half brother seems to work out well judging by what she says about it.

However, none of that happened. The daughter must be some kind of psychic. Two weeks ago, she started to ask for a little sister out of the blue. We weren’t telling her anything, and we didn’t confirm it either. Last Monday, we come home from the ultrasound and the first thing that comes out of the girls mouth when we get back is; “will I get a little sister?”. We still didn’t confirm the news, we waited until Saturday when she once again asked and wished for a little siter. The girl was over the moon when we confirmed the news.

No tears, no screaming, no nothing. Just joy on her part.

Trying to take advantage of this and put it into a wider perspective I try to tell my girlfriend that since this went so much better than what she thought, maybe other aspects with this pregnancy would be a positive surprise as well. Well, she wasn’t really buying into that and she would hardly accept that the “hell” as she described it once (telling her daughter would be a experience out of hell) never happened. “Things change” she said – as an explenation. Well, dauh, yes they do. Maybe other things won’t be “hell on Earth” either then.

Her brain often starts to work overtime at midnight. Again last night. I’m ready for sleep by then, and the look of surprise on her face when I say that midnight is a good time to fall asleep never fails. Going through the usual issues she started to talk about walking her daughter to school. She said she refused to give this up even with a new baby because it was “quality time” with her daughter. Given my perspective of things, children being able to walk to school alone is a crucial part of them growing older and being more self dependent. I have observed children coming to school in the morning, and there’s very few parents actually walking the kids all the way up to the door holding their backpack. No offense. I guess it’s simply a matter of being afraid of something new, holding onto the old. My life has been “new” for the past three years or so. It’s come to be the norm. I guess that’s why I’m not that worried.

“It’s a girl”.

Week 19 (+1)

The Babylon 5 episode titles will now end. It is only fitting.

I can honestly say; hey, that went quite well. Smooth even.

We went down to the hospital, and I think we were both a bit tense. I have never been with someone I can sense the way I do with her either. It got better once we came down there. We got inside at the exact moment our appointment was. The first thing the midwife said when she put the ultrasound device on her was; “well, lots of activity here”.

Well, a big sigh of a relief then. The baby had certainly survived that fall up in the hills.

So, alright. It’s kicking and moving and everything’s fine.

“You want to know the sex”? she asked us.

“Sure” I said.

“It’s a girl,” the midwife replied.

What?

I had such a distinctive feeling it was a boy.

But yep, it’s a girl, and due date is 20 September.

Going back home we had no heated discussions or emotional outburst of any sort. We ordered sushi, but almost forgot to pick it up.

We spoke of children’s name on our way back. It was just fine. Finally something that turned out to be a good day. It had to turn around eventually, and perhaps it just did.

I waited until after football practice to tell my parents. Like 22:00 hours. I had told her to stay awake because I had a photo I needed her input on. I told her I didn’t know what it was.

So I showed my mother a blurry ultrasound photo. It took her about two or three minutes until she understood what it was. It my was dad who first said it was an ultrasound photo. I don’t think she dared to even ask if it was. She was over the moon. Just like I expected her to react. It was just lovely. It felt like the fulfillment or conclusion of that difficult talk I had to do with her in the spring of 2016 when I told her I had split from my ex wife – and I told her all about the IVF at the same time. This was finishing that talk with a good outcome. An almost Three year struggle. It felt like a demonic entity lifting off my shoulders. Like some grey mist that just left me. It was peculiar and bizarre. At one point I felt like I was floating. Imagine that.

And now the real job will commence soon enough.

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Into the Fire

Another D-Day today. It’s been too many. Maybe this one will be the last one?

I just saw an Instagram photo by someone I slightly know. She’s pregnant. “We are so excited!” the text said attached with a countdown photo of her pregnancy.

They are obviously over the moon and really looking forward to June – her due month.

As for me, well, I haven’t mentioned my girlfriends pregnancy to anyone lately. Well, with the exception in a conversation with her mother when my gf rudely told her “maybe it’s dead” when her mother mentioned it. I should have told her to fucking behave her age. Or today, when we’re off to the ultrasound in a couple of hours, and I wrote her “you know, my gut feeling tells me it’s a boy” and she responds with “ok, I’m going to lie down now”.

It makes for great excitement. But hey,the male has to be supportive. Just be supportive. Whatever she wants, it’s good. Doesn’t matter. Just act like an adult and try to be there for her. And I do. No need to lecture me on female rights – I’ve read all, and support all. But there’s no substitute for decency.

She fell a two or three weeks ago out on skis. Might have fractured a rib. There was no other injury, but I was obviously worried about the baby. She haven’t bothered that much about it, and did not want to see a doctor or anything. So, for me, without getting any consolidation from her about what’s going on inside her – the ultrasound will at least confirm if the baby is alive. I think it is though, but it’s still frightening. So, that’s what’s been on my mind for the past three weeks.

I talked to my doctor last week. I told her my past two years have not been normal in terms of family, children, relationships I’ve been through
more than most do in a lifetime. There’s just nothing normal with any of this, and I haven’t even begun to feel bitter about my girlfriend taking
away my initial joy and excitement about a pregnancy. Because right now, I’m simply numb. I told my doctor the same thing. I’m numb. Like I’ve been
in some form of war or fistfight for the past two years, and even if I did win the fight, I am so battered that I can’t enjoy my victory. If it is a victory that is.

I wrote my doctor, as she told me, a letter explaining my situation and how I wanted someone to talk to. To sort all this out. Sort out my ex-wife and what
I went through there as well my ex-girlfriend and my current state of affairs. It’s all mixed up in one big pile of mess.

But one thing I do know; this is it. On the path I am now taking, this is it. There will be this chance or no more. I am going into the fire.

And I can’t believe I am where I am right now, just a year after I started this personal blog/diary. I still don’t know if I’m better off or not.

It’s like someone hearing my thoughts and replied with; “we will give you what you want, but you will have to endure and you will have to fight”.

Atonement

“So, congratulations on becoming a father!” she said yesterday. She’s a friend of my girlfriend. Long time friend. Like, really long time. I know her from middle school, but we never really talked. Not until recently. She seems to be quite smart, reflective even.

“Thanks, but I’m not one just yet”, I somberly reply. The answer catches her off-guard, and there’s an awkward feeling the air. I know my girlfriend have been talking to her about her feelings about this pregnancy; that she basically don’t want it and have this idea I pressured into it. I am quite sure it’s a bit more complicated than that though.

I change the topic as quick as I can.

I dawned on me that I am completely numb from this situation. There is no joy any more. Not like it’s supposed to be. Two people being happy. Here’s one person so unsure and frightened about it that she has truly and utterly destroyed any feelings of happiness. I don’t blame her for it, but I am bitter for it. I am bitter because there was absolutely no point in doing it like this.

I visit my mom later that same day. I was about to tell her, but I didn’t. I want it to be a happy time. Not a sober time where I basically tell her she’s becoming a grandmother in some robotic voice. It’s not supposed to be like that.

Maybe I will find the excitement again down the road, but right now I am totally out of breath and out of energy. I am numb. Simply numb. I don’t really believe it any more for some reason. And, considering my age and my relationship – this will be the only time I’m going through this – and you know what? If it’s going to be like this, I’ll be happy with one time only.

I have an doctors appointment on Wednesday. Maybe I’ll need it. I don’t know yet.

In the Beginning

Week 14 + 3

This will be the first (of perhaps many) letters to you. Maybe one day you will read them all, or maybe this will be long gone in the mist of technological advancements by the time you have grown up enough to understand all of this. Who knows. It’s in English as well, which serves as a good code language between us. Your mother most likely won’t be able to keep up with these ramblings anyway. She once told me she quickly loose track if anything is in English! By the way, I do hope you will find usage of the English language as exciting and fulfilling as I have through the years.

First, well, I’m sorry it took a while! I had a few issues to take care of first. I’m sorry I’ll be a bit of an old fart, but here’s the thing; I don’t plan on being old. My father always said; keep yourself updated on your surroundings. Embrace new technology. Always be positive to advancements. Never let the world pas you by while you’re stuck in some godforsaken decade where the internet sort of doesn’t exists (except when you pay your bills). Stay on top of the world and the current. I plan on doing the same. It truly is good advice.

On New Years Eve 2001, Axl Rose took to the stage for the first time in almost 10 years and told his audience; “I have traversed a treacherous sea of horrors to be with you here tonight”. I have to admit I feel the same about this. I could write a book about it all, but it won’t be realistic enough for people to buy into it. I am confident it will be worth it though.

Right now, I don’t even know if you’re a boy or a girl. I can honestly say I don’t care. I’ve seen you on a TV screen, wobbling about in your mothers stomach. You be nice to her. She have been feeling unsure and unwell. Treat her nice. It’s not her fault. It’s just nature and hormones. Life experience even. Just make sure you grow right and be all healthy. It would mean a lot to her. Comfort her, and care for her like I do, and it will be alright in the end.

The Ragged Edge

Wednesday. D-Day. Low risk? High risk?

I have a terrible night. Vivid dreams. I dream the call is made from the hospital with the comforting words of “low risk pregnancy”. I get upset when I wake up and find out it was a dream. Another dream follows quickly. My dog, in my care, is let into a huge compartment store and for some reason dies in there. I wake up again. My girlfriends daughter is sound asleep in her bed.

I notice when daylight arrives. I hear the morning train howl it’s familiar sound on its way to Oslo.  I finally look at my phone. It’s 0655. Five minutes before the alarm.

I get her daughter ready for school. She behaves proper. I give her milkshake for breakfast since its the first time I’ve taken care of her in the morning. I forget her wollen socks which my girlfriend notice at onces when she arrives 30 minutes later. I make my girlfriend fresh orange juice as is the norm these days.

We exchange a couple of words before I take her daughter to school so she can sleep off a hard nights work. “If it’s a high risk..then….” she starts. “I don’t want to use sick days to go to another ultra sound”. I had booked one for Thursday just in case the result would be high risk and this drama would not be over yet. I am surprised it doesn’t mean enough to her for a sick day, but like a lot of things I just swallow that one too. She says she needs to sleep and won’t answer the phone when they call either. I shiver at the thought of another day or another night in limbo but let that go as well. What can you do?

At 0900 she sends me a surprising Snapchat message. Doctor called. Low risk. There’s nothing wrong with the baby. So, that’s over and done with. Funny how so much worry and so much aggression and frustration can be dealt with in just one simple fucking text.

It’s week 14 now, and we’re at the end of all this. I’m about to let this little secret out to most of the world, and she can’t stop me. That’s it. No more.  Then I realize it’s me we are talking about. I am sure there will be another curveball within hours or days. I am ready.

Acts of Sacrifice

Here’s word of advice if you want a divorce or a break up after living together for quite some time.

Be prepared to die.

It truly is the best way to describe it. You and your life will die. You will die at large if you’re truly unlucky, all depending on what the break up will involve. Your life could die in so many ways that you are only left with your core basics of what defies you as a person. Your family, your health (sometimes not even that), your values and morals and maybe your job (if you got one). The rest might be gone. That may even include your children if you got them

I can honestly say that I have died. And I was down to the core of myself.

Just watching TV with my wife, talking the dogs for a walk together (or alone), going abroad with her, living in house I thought I would live in for a long time, possibly raising children together, having good conversations or listening to music. Objects and items that was mine but are no longer mine. Daily routines now gone never to return. A whole life just gone. It really was a different life. I am even surprised that I once lived that life that are now gone. She is gone too. I see her when I pick up my dogs sometimes. I don’t even see my dogs as much as I want, and I love my dogs. Because they belong to my former life, and I died.

When you are with someone for such a long time, I think most people develop a “we” personality. A third personality where you and your partner create an individual between yourselves. It is partly you, and partly her. When you die, that personality dies too – and that will never ever return. It is simply dead.

I can honestly say I didn’t think it would be this bad, and I often find myself longing for parts from my former life. Perhaps just a Saturday morning where I wake up at 0800, take the dogs out for a walk, come back inside, pour myself a glass of Coca Cola and write for a couple of hours. Then she wakes up, and makes Belgian Waffles or something. She understood my interests, she tolerated my music (and even liked it) and had no prejudice towards what I enjoyed watching on TV.

But then I died, and it all went away. A past life. A complete revolt.

All I’m saying, if you’re thinking about splitting up,bBe prepared to die. Because that’s what it feels like. Your life will be gone. You have to start over. A lot of things you took for granted will be no more. And I don’t think you’ll ever be the same. I won’t be. Death does that to you.

Messages from Earth

It dawned on me in the shower at 11pm last night.

I am being harassed.

It’s like when people come to me at work, frustrated.

“I’m not angry at YOU”, they say; “I’m angry at the system!”.

So that’s it. I’m being harassed by an unknown force that often finds women to do its dirty work. Whether its the ex-girlfriend from 2003, the ex wife, the ex-girlfriend from 2017 or my current girlfriend.

I am simply being harassed. There are no other words for it. My girlfriend jokes about it being because I had my name removed from the church books. While the idea is laughable, even I start to wonder what the hell is going on.

Last Wednesday we went to Oslo for a risk assessment on the baby. The risk for three serious conditions including Downs Syndrome. For the entire duration of the day – up until the subject changed, I had to endure a never-ending spree of “I don’t want to do this, I don’t want the baby” speeches. Some of them beyond any common sense I should spend time replying to. But yet I spent the first four hours trying to talk sense and logic, and most importantly remaining calm and supportive.

The problems started when they did the measurement of the Nuchal Translucency. I wasn’t sure of the measurements involved, and when the doctor said it was “a bit large”, shit unraveled quite quickly on the way home. This was my girlfriends ticket out. This was my ticket to hell. However, the blood work wasn’t done, so what we really were doing was discussing an unfinished test with a risk asessement for Downs that had not increased more than 3 points (from 140 to 137). Well, that was enough for my girlfriend anyway. So, in a room of 137 people, one of them have Downs. I thought that was a bit of a weak decision to have an abortion on. The real odds isn’t even in yet. Afterwards, I did extensive research on the subject, and anything below 3 mm is normal, anything below 3,5 is also considered normal (depending on who you ask). It also depends when you actually measure it (week 11 to week 13). Some people operate with a 1 out of 10 chance of Downs if the measurement is above 3 or 3,5. In addition to all of that, the measurement was difficult to do and the one who did it was under training. The doctor eventually took over and tried to do a better one herself concluding with “well, that will have to do”. Gee, that was comforting, thanks!.

This is just never ending harassment. All I want is peace, quiet and a normal life with a family to care for and love. But something/someone/ is simply harassing me. It doesn’t help when my girlfriend late at night is so frustrated about the pregnancy that she is on the verge of a breakdown. And I’m stuck in the middle of it all where women in my life goes from crying for not becoming pregnant to crying because they are pregnant. Is there nothing inbetween? Seriously??

And so to you, the one who keeps harassing me; step out of the shadows of hell if you are Satan. Come down from heaven if you are God. I will face you both. Show yourself. If this life and universe I live in is a a mere complex simulation, I ask you to leave your game and face me like a real man. If this is because of something I did in my past life, I am truly sorry for it but enough is enough already. I can’t take responsibility for it. If this is the work of dead relatives, then at least tell me what I am doing wrong. If this is just because the universe wants knowledge and experience, move on now. Find someone else to harass and gain knowledge from.

I want peace, quiet, and comfort.

Stop harassing me.