I can’t tell you about the first time I ever let the sweet sticky juice of a pineapple run down my fingers tips because I don’t remember.

But what I can tell you about is the first time I ever craved that sweet island fruit

We we’re broke. The kind of broke that makes you want to curl up & cry for days. And sometimes we did just that. No matter what we did or how we cut our expenses we were always struggling to make it until the next paycheck.

And then I peed on a stick.

Pregnancy doesn’t come cheap and the simple food cravings of a pregnant woman can really add up.

And something as simple as a pineapple can bring tears.

I made it through most of my first trimester free of the chains that keep most women bound to the toilet. I was able to enjoy food & enjoy it I did. In the beginning of my pregnancy I craved baked potatoes. The rustic brown skin bathed in olive oil and coated with a heavy kosher salt and then dressed in the finest store brand aluminium foil we could afford . I would savor every single soft bite of those delicious baked potatoes as the butter dribbled down my lips. I couldn’t get enough.

And then one day my cravings started to shift. I started to yearn for something sweet. Something wet & juicy. In my mind’s eye I saw what I was now craving. I could picture myself sitting at the table with a thick triangle-shaped piece of pineapple, the juice dripping down my arm as I enjoyed the sweet flavor.

I could smell the sweet goodness of that island fruit. I could feel the juice running down the back of my throat. I could envision myself slicing into a pineapple, eating the entire fruit, and then drinking the last few drops of juice that had collected at the bottom of the bowl.

I wanted a pineapple. I needed a pineapple. My body craved a pineapple.

The day my craving started, Shawn called me to check in. I begged him to make a stop at the grocery store for my sweet treat. He asked how much it would cost and I said “Can’t be anymore then a few dollars”. What I did not know was that a few dollars was all we had to get us until the next payday which was still several days away.

When Shawn walked through the front door of our apartment that evening I jumped off the couch, knife in hand ready to slice into that small piece of tropical heaven.

But there was no pineapple. Instead, he held a small can of generic brand pineapple juice.

“I’m sorry babe. The pineapple was $5 and I need to get gas tomorrow. This was all I could get”

I tried to hide my disappointment from him, I knew how hard he worked and that if he could buy me a whole pineapple farm he would. So I masked my desire for that sweet fruit and I took the small container of juice from his hands I told him “Oh, this will do just fine, thank you”.

But the truth was, it wouldn’t do. I was expecting the sweet tropical stickiness of a pineapple and instead I tasted cold metal.

For days he apologized to me and I worked hard to assure him that the craving for the sweet island fruit was gone. Of course the craving wasn’t really gone because cravings don’t disappear until you have satisfied them and mine had not been satisfied. But I didn’t want him to feel like he had failed me, so I pretended the best I could that the small can of juice had fulfilled my craving.

After a week or two had gone by, payday finally arrived and we begin planning our bi-weekly trip to Chipotle was.

That night Shawn surprised me. He walked in the door with a pineapple in hand.

I cut into that delicious yellow pineapple and I savored every bite of that island fruit. I was satisfied.

This week, we’d like for you to write about your favorite fresh fruit or vegetable. Share a memory of when you first tasted it, where it came from, when you last had it, a favorite way to prepare it, and such. As you write your piece this week, think of it as writing a scene. Be sure to engage our senses, make us feel, see, taste, hear, and smell. Pull us in with your description.

Before we got pregnant & had the abortion Shawn & had been slowly crumbling. The realization that our non- existent foundation was not enough to hold us during parental disputes, financial crisis and a pregnancy was enough to send us to a place of barely existing. And probably only existing together because really, after everything, what other choice did we have?

After the abortion and for probably the next 6 months we locked into each other & tried to pick up the pieces and begin again.

Because of the pain that we were both feeling because of Ruby we talked often of having another baby.

And in one of those moments. On November 14th (yes. I remember the exact date) Phoenix decided to take permanent residence up in our lives. First as just a tiny fetus & now as the fire crackling 2 1/2 year old.

To say Phoenix was a surprise pregnancy or even accident is just simply not the truth. It was planned. As much as two hurting people could plan.

But even after we confirmed what we knew just  mere moments after the…after, we still sat and thought “And now what the fuck do we do?”. Were we in any better place then we were 6 months before when we found out about Ruby? No. In fact. It was worse.

There was no relationship with my parents, because I was closing my ears to all rationale talk & throwing a grown up size tantrum. There was still no music career and we were simply existing check by check. If that.

There was still a tiny 2 bedroom apartment in what could only be considered “the ghetto”.

And us as a couple? Well we still were just existing. And maybe just existing because really? After adult sized tantrums what else were we supposed to do?

There were fights to end all fights. Suitcases packed on a daily. Broken glass. Broken dishes. Broken hearts and broke down dreams.

We ignored our pregnancy for the first 2 months. Not telling anyone and hoping beyond hope that the fact that I wasn’t vomiting my life away every day meant we weren’t pregnant.

Oh the denial.

I won’t tell a lie. So we did discuss making another appointment with the same doctor we saw over the summer, but that would have really made us hate ourselves. And as I sit here typing this & opening his piece of chocolate for him I’m so glad we didn’t do this.

So we gathered all the strength we had and drove up to my parents house on Presidents Day.

We apologized. But we told them as unexpected as this was (we lied) we were excited.

And no. We did not plan on getting married right then. We just didn’t think that we needed to get married just because we were having a baby. We knew we would get married but at the time I think we figured it would ease my parent’s mind to know that despite rushing into having a baby we weren’t going to rush into getting married, just because of a baby.

And that’s what we planned on doing.

Below is a video performance by Colbie Calliat. A week before we got pregnant with Phoenix, Shawn got me tickets to her concert for my 20th birthday and when she performed the song “Capri” him & I both kind of lost it and mourned the baby that could have been. And it was then that we decided to have a baby.

Even though the video says the performance is in Norfolk, VA at the Norva (My hometown. And totally saw O-Town there back in the day.) this is the actual performance from Baltimore. I remember it so clearly.

It was May 5, 2007 and I walked out of the bathroom into my bedroom and laid the stick on the desk.

It said I was pregnant.

“Now what do we do?” I asked Shawn.

He just kind of looked at me. We knew it was coming. We had joked about it really ever since we got together. I’m the oldest of 8. He’s the oldest of 6. Fertility just seems to be something we’ve got right.

I sat on the bed as the options ran through my head. I sat and heard my mother rip me 5 new ones as my Dad just hung his head. What was I going to do? How could I have been so stupid?

We made our decision that day. We just couldn’t be parents now. We still lived with my parents. His music career really seemed to be officially stalling. My parents we’re beginning to make declarations that we should wait to get married and I just wasn’t raised to have a baby out-of-wedlock. But I also wasn’t raised to do what I was thinking about either.

I was fucked.

The morning sickness was unlike anything  I have ever experienced (and still haven’t because for some reason. With Phoenix. I never had morning sickness). It was all day. Ruining a particularly delicious Chicken Caesar sandwich from Panera (that I still don’t eat). Doritos. Cream of Crab soup.

Pulling over on the highway every single morning to say goodbye to the breakfast I begged for from Burger King.

I would lay on the floor of the bathroom stall at work and just cry. Praying my orthodox jewish boss wouldn’t figure it out.

I thought I was hiding it well until a client came in to see the house  I was showing and she said ‘How far along are you? About 7-8 weeks?’ I think I crapped myself when she said this

“Well you’ll have an easy labor with having to climb these steps all the time”

When she left, I cried for 2 hours.

I don’t know what told me or how I figured it out but I had this feeling that it was a girl.

And her name was Ruby Rose.

I dreamed of her one night. She was riding around on one of those big wheel bikes with a little boy following behind her. She had tight curly hair that was a lot more blonde than it was red. And as I think back now to say she looked like Phoenix would be an understatement.

She had on a purple dress with a small floral pattern. And her smile was beautiful and her laugh sounded like music.

A few weeks after we found out I started spotting.  I was positive we were miscarrying. We made a story up about Shawn having chest pains and went to the hospital.

This may have been our easy way out.

But it wasn’t. It was simply implantation bleeding. I remember laying on the hospital bed and the tech checking my cervix. It was technically our first ultra-sound.

I looked away the entire time and tried not to lose it. Shawn watched.

And I’m glad he did. Someone should have.

Shawn & I never talked about her. What could we really say? She wasn’t staying with us..

But every time I would come out of the bathroom, close the door to the car, or push my dinner away in disgust he would just look at me. His eyes silently telling me he was sorry.

We didn’t even have the money to do it. How could we have had her?

This is why it wasn’t over until 12 weeks. I walked into the office with more shame then I have ever felt. Everyone was going to judge. But then I remembered they were in fact here for the same thing.

“Alexandria Scott”

Up until this point I really had been pretty fine. It was just something that had to be done.

I didn’t want to hurt my parents, I didn’t want to embarrass them, I didn’t want to hurt Ruby. And I was sure that I would.

That we would.

When I walked into the room everything literally went blurry. Literally. The nurse was speaking, but I didn’t hear her.

Mary J. Blige was playing on the radio.

I laid on the table. The doctor came in. He was African.

The machine came on and I lost it.

I wailed and wailed. The nurses tried to calm me. I didn’t stop.

When it was over someone else dressed me.

“I need Shawn. I need him. Get him now.”

They told me something about partners not being allowed back because not everyone had someone. But they would see what they could do.

They brought me out and sat me in a brown leather Lazy-Boy recliner.

I asked for the bathroom and puked my guts out and cried.

When I sat back down Shawn came flying into the room. Later  I would find out that the nurse told him he needed to get back there like NOW because I was not in good shape.

“I’m sorry. I killed our baby. I know you hate me. Please don’t hate me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It was a girl. Her name was Ruby”

At that moment as I cried and he held me something in me locked with him. Before this, we were rocky. Things just not going the way we thought.  We fought all the time and I think we both felt we should do each other the respect of walking away.

But that day it was like a moth to a flame. And in the moment I really knew he loved me. I hate it. I hate that at that moment this realization came. But it did.

They let me go home 30 minutes later and on the ride home I grabbed Shawn’s arm. I needed something real. Something concrete, something in this world to hang on to. Like my life depended on it. And I think it did.

We had Quizno’s for lunch and I insisted on going in to order. But everything was still blurry. And even still I didn’t let him go.

When we went home we laid in bed and cried until the sun went down.

And you don’t have to tell me how much of a monster I am. I know it. And trust me. I walk with this shame every single day.

This is part of our story that maybe 10 people know about. I’ve never wanted to tell anyone but I feel that it’s apart of our story and she deserves it.

Even when I was pregnant I cringed when I had to pretend like I had never experienced this before.

But I also cringed when I had to complete the papers for my OB that asked “How many times have you been pregnant?”

It was June 22nd and I had an abortion.

can’t find image source credits. if these belong to you please let me know so I can link back.

I knew that one day we would spend hours in the blazing hot sun getting stuff ready for our two year olds birthday party.

I knew that we’d wake up on Christmas morning together.

I knew I’d roll over every day for the rest of my life next time him.

And I knew that to keep Shawn happy a plate of french toast, pancakes and eggs with cheese would do it.

But what I didn’t know was all the pain that would be in between all of this…

How did we go from having kisses that belonged in boxes to days filled with black balloons?

Before we got engaged we were still living in different states. Him in Florida. Me in Maryland. A few days after we got engaged we decided that him moving to Maryland would be the best thing. He did not put any specific time frame just requirements. He wanted to make sure that he had a job (his music career at this point {2006/2007} had stalled because he had gotten custody of his then 5 yro son {who lived with us full time up until a year ago. Now lives with his mom} and the term “starving artist” is more literal then you think) and an apartment. He didn’t want to rush anything. But of course I wanted him to go home pack and be back before the week ended.

Within the month he was able to secure a job with Clear Channel as a sales rep for one of the local radio stations. It was not the job or salary he was used to but we figured it would be enough to live on until he received more music checks. Because of this we didn’t rush out and get an apartment and he moved in with my family in March. Our plan was to look for an apartment and be settled by July with a wedding come October.

Things seem to go as planned for a few months, but by May my parents (rightly so) sat us down and felt that we should slow down and allow Shawn time to get things together financially, because there was no immediate rush to get married or anything.

If I’m honest with myself I can look back and see that even Shawn thought this was a good idea. But I was having none of it. I was ready to get married (or I thought I was). How would it have looked if after months of flashing a ring and trying on dresses and picking out flowers I had to announce that our wedding was on hold?

I compromised by pushing the wedding then scheduled for October to March. But when I tried to shift the planning there my parents still stayed firm at thinking we should wait.

And from there it was a war of wills between my parents & I.

In the midst of all of this going on with my parents Shawn & I tried to cultivate a normal relationship. It was the first time we had ever been together for longer than a few days and we would spend hours out on dates or locked away in my room

By May the facade I was working so hard to keep up started crumbling when I took my very first pregnancy test and it revealed to me to me that I was indeed…pregnant.

And from there the very world I had been trying to protect crumbled under my fingers. The day was May 5th.

Has it really been almost a month since my last installment of This is Us?

If you are new here several weeks ago I decided to share with you the story of how Shawn & I met and how we came to be where we are now and even who we are. Our story is much more than a typical story and it is such a huge part of who I am and there are parts of our story that we have both tried to hide and brush past because it does not show us in the most flattering light. But lately I have been smacked in the face with being true in all realms of my life and that includes the ugly parts. Which is what I’m going to tell you starting now. For the next few “installments” of This Is Us its going to be kind of ugly.

It’s going to be sad.

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Some people might not be happy with me or us for decisions we’ve made. The way we’ve acted, but my “online” life is so much of who I am now and I pour so much of me in to this blog that it’s not fair to only show you the good parts.

I’m still defining what I want my blogs “mission” to be or even if it needs to have a mission or purpose.

Maybe it does.

But even as I do try and figure out everything that I want this blog to be I do know I want it to be truth.

Maybe my mission or my purpose is to reach out to not the perfect people. Not the perfect moms or women. But the ones that struggle with ugliness (not literally!). The ones that seem to get it all wrong.

One thing I have defined about my blog is that I want to be more than just a mommy blog. I want to be -what I refer to now as- a lifestyle blog. A blog about life. In every aspect. And how can I write about “life” (whatever that means) and not share all my life with you. Good bad and ugly. I want you all to be able to relate to me. Even if we never, ever, meet I want you to get up from your computer feeling like if you ever needed anything that you could email me. If you needed to talk I’d listen. I want you to trust me.

Am I making sense or is this just 400 plus and insignificant words?

So that’s where I’m going this week. I hope you come back to  read everything.

At the end of this series I’d love to include your “This Is Us” story good, bad, and ugly so if you are interested in participating please email me with “This Is Us” in the subject line and include the link to your post and I will link back to your blog at the end. beforethebabywakes {at} gmail dot com