Today marks the 17th anniversary of “The Bravest Thing I’ve Ever Done.” For those of you who know the story, prepare yourselves to be bored, yet again, by the rendition of my daughter’s birth story. In January of 1992 I gave birth to a lovely baby girl, Tiffany. Nine months later, tragedy struck in the form of SIDS, and my beautiful baby fell asleep forever. The months that followed were horrific, especially when my then-husband went into the Air Force. A little back story. The marriage was not an especially happy one. When he’d joined the Air Force, that was pretty much the last straw for me. I knew he wouldn’t be successful or happy with people yelling at him and giving him orders. And when he wasn’t happy…no one was. At the time of Tiffany’s death, I was contemplating divorce, but the state where we lived required the baby to be 1 year old before I could proceed. Then, she died and he left. Wow. I cannot even begin to express my grief, sorrow, loneliness, etc.
As he and I parted, he begged me to reconsider the divorce. To let the time in training be like a trial separation, etc. I agreed to consider it. With us apart, things got better. Our relationship improved and he honestly did seem happy in the Air Force. I convinced myself that I’d been wrong and that our marriage deserved a second chance. I visited him several times during the next few months and was startled to find out that those few visits had resulted in pregnancy. Now, I was not only sad, I was terrified, and truthfully thrilled to bits.
In the early 1990’s, SIDS was still thought to be hereditary. The pregnancy was a breeze, no morning sickness to speak off, since my husband was gone, I could eat and sleep on my own schedule. I quit my stressful job and settled in to prepare to be a married serviceman’s wife (read in June Cleaver). Several months before Ashley’s birth, I drove with my parents to California to begin my new life.
The first nine months of my daughter’s life was hell for me. I could barely sleep for worrying that I would put her down for a nap or for the night and lose her, too. Needless to say, that didn’t happen (Thank God!) and now all I have to worry about is the drama, driving, and dating.
And yes, she’s still the bravest thing I’ve ever done.
Happy Birthday Drama Teen!