It was supposed to be a “Cotton” Anniversary (which is also a symbol of prosperity).  Here are some of the symbols related to this year’s anniversary:

Color: Red (shouldn’t it be the 1st anniversary color??)

Modern Gift Ideas: China

“By the time a couple celebrates their second anniversary, they are more cozy with one another, making cotton the appropriate anniversary gift for this wedding anniversary celebration, ” states the website http://marriage.about.com/cs/anniversaries/a/wedannivideas.htm.

Now, let’s get back to reality.

Cotton is good, but… as an anniversary gift? I don’t think cotton has that much significance in our relationship.

None of us like jazz. Argenis doesn’t even know what the Cotton Club was and if I explained it to him it would go in and out of his head like a breeze.

All the good movies of 2008 already came and left.  We might try “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”, but I’m not sure if a 3 hour movie that is not Star Wars, The Lord of The Rings, or Spider Man would be the best option to celebrate.

My husband doesn’t like concerts, sports (other than video games), or theater in general. Don’t even mention dancing to him.  He does enjoy a good cold piña colada and some Dominican rum, but that’s about it. In addition, I can’t drink any alcohol, be in a smoking environment, or bump around dancing as I used to a few months ago, so that is out of the question.  Being a date that we’re supposed to enjoy together, I wouldn’t want to force him to be in a place just to please me. (I’ll leave that for our birthdays next month).

We didn’t have a wedding, so we don’t have a wedding video. We went into the Court Room one cold January morning and it was all done in seven minutes. Since we were new in town, we didn’t have any witnesses, friends, or relatives. We do have a couple of blurry pictures that we had to shoot ourselves. All we have is the original marriage license itself, the newspaper announcement, and the first envelope addressed to “Mr. and Mrs. Laura and Argenis Bilbao” received a few days later.  I keep these things as silent mementos of that unforgettable day when I dared to take the biggest risk of my entire life: marrying a guy I had only met in person less than three months before…

…after 6 months of chatting online.

And I don’t regret any of what I have lived with him.

Although, to us, the second wedding anniversary means that the worst is over.

That’s right, marriage is not easy, folks. Especially for me, because I never even lived by myself before, and for him, who never lived with a girl before (and a very different one than himself!).

We have been filling up an empty house by ourselves, with burned dishes (and almost burned kitchens!), weird neighbors (in both good and bad ways), colds, snow, discussions over who is messier, who never listens to the other, why we need to recycle, why we can’t throw away that dish that has been sitting in the refrigerator for two weeks now, whose turn is to fill up the gas tank, and how can a guy prepare a full meal without using a single knife or plate while a girl makes the same meal and the result is a kitchen that came out of Picasso’s mind.

But we have also filled it with plenty of love-making, praise over meatballs and resort-like breakfasts, showers together, pizza-and-a-movie nights after long days, lengthy talks about daily happenings and miss-happenings, bare- walking around the house, car rescues in the cold or in a dark parking lot in the middle of the night, back-rubbing and healing kisses for homesickness, praise over stupid little achievements (like the computer piece #5 that finally didn’t blew up or the drapes that took me three days to finish…)

Recently, the excitement over the ultrasound of a performing baby that is part of us and us staring at my belly being kicked from the inside by our very own son.

The house is now a home and it will soon contain a whole family.

We will enjoy these few months of “just the two of us” until little Ezequiel comes, and then it will be adaptation again.

I still don’t know what we’ll do to celebrate our anniversary, but whatever happens, I will enjoy it!

 
photo credit: mikewade 

Argenis and I went to the last ultrasound together and held hands while watching the big flat screen with our little baby jumping up and down inside of me.  He even wiggled his hands and feet.

The three ultrasound technicians -a doctor, a nurse, and a weird looking guy in scrubs who I’m not sure why wanted to play with the ultrasound thingy on my belly-all agreed that there is a 95% chance that it’s a boy. They claimed they clearly saw the baby’s proud parts.

I cannot describe exactly what I felt. I’ve never been pregnant before, nor has my husband -duh-, and it was like, one minute I’m just nauseous, depressed, and sick, and the next, ohhh, that’s why…

Somewhat it makes me feel A LOT better. I can smile and cry at the same time and start imagining us and little Ezequiel playing, watching T.V. together, reading stories, making a fun mess anywhere in the house.

And Christmas, of course. By next Christmas we will officially be a real family.

I also know about the sleepless nights, late-runs to the grocery store, E.R. visits, breast milk accidents, questions with no answers (ask your dad, no, ask your mom), and, in general no time for anything else than the baby.

But if fifty percent of the human population can do it…

So will I!

It

I have been so sick and depressed I barely have had time to keep up with school, work, doctor’s appointments, and home care.

This weekend my husband saw me for the sixth or seventh time sleeping from 6:00 p.m. until 11:00 p.m. on a Friday, when he woke me up to hand me some food and talk. He might not be a dancer or a very social person, but he does like to talk.

“I was researching something for you” he said.
I thought he was looking for baby or pregnancy stuff.
“It’s about an ISBN”, he explained while he rubbed my almost non existing belly, “you can get one on your own with a little investment and you can get published without actually going to an editor”.
“Really?” , I tried to sound excited, while coping with the grogginess of the Zofran and the messed up feeling of my stomach. “Why were you looking for that, honey?”
“Because I see you sleeping all the time and it’s been a while since the last time you wrote anything and I don’t want you to give up on your dream of becoming a writer…”
…
Then the hormone tide rose.
“%$#^%&^%*^(&(*! &(*&&! K^%&*! ”
I’m kidding. I could never yell at him like that.

But I was upset, because it made me think he thinks I’m a lazy woman who sleeps and eats ice cream whenever she can!

Well, I have things to tell you, mister, I work from 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Monday to Friday, I am taking two college classes and Acing them, I am going through my second and third months, I have no family here, and I have to take care of the house!

(Not that I am a Stepford wife; yesterday I bought Chinese food enough for 3 days so I won’t have to cook for a while).

Maybe when you get to feel what is like to be pregnant, working, and studying at the same time you will tell me if you want to get home with a sunshine smile and actually produce and create something new!!

Nah, I didn’t actually say it like that.

But one look of my disgruntled face was enough to tell him that and more. He decided to shush and hold me quietly.

Five minutes and half a cup of ice cream later my mind started to think more clearly. What was he trying to tell me? That he wanted me to have success. What did I reply to that? I rather not remember. What kind of a wife I’m I? Are all pregnant women transfigurations of their dark sides? Here I am being rubbed by a loving guy whose only desire is seeing me happy and I bring all the bad stuff inside of me to him in a moment when he’s just trying to make me feel loved.

Ladies, I know- first hand- that it’s not easy. I’ve seen it happen with friends and relatives. If you are pregnant, don’t let your hormones hurt anyone who doesn’t really deserve it. If you have to say something unfriendly, have a snack, lie down for five minutes and think it over.

If after that little filter you still think you were really offended, then go ahead and let it roll!

Till next time!

P.d. Here’s the first ultrasound at 8 weeks. Today I’m getting the second one. Enjoy!

To keep up with the “Newly-wed Diary” part, I will tell you that my husband is still assimilating the idea that he will get a present for next Father’s Day. He rubs my belly every once in a while, absentmindedly, tries to be funny, saying things like “I can’t believe I inseminated you”, or “hey, isn’t your period due yet?”. On the other hand, he is focused more than ever on finishing school as fast as he can. With a little bit of luck he will be finished by the time of our baby 2nd birthday. I love him so much, and I am so happy that I will produce new life with him.

I called everyone I could think of to tell them about my pregnancy. Everybody wants to come to Texas to see me! I keep joking and saying that if they come they’ll get the chance to make a wish and rub my belly!

I looked online and my baby is now a bunch of cells that are reproducing really fast and implantating on my uterus walls. To do that the cells need to suck all the energy and nutrients they can from me. To help with the process and to avoid passing out, I have to take these nasty prenatal vitamins loaded with iron, B vitamins, and as much folic acid as possible. I decided to grind the pills and swallow them mixed with a tablespoon of honey to ease the taste. They do help, as I don’t feel as tired or nauseated as I should. When I laugh too hard, or sneeze, or cough, I feel something small being pulled below my belly. My breasts are definitely bigger and tender. And hellooo nausea!

Some advice I have received to fight the Morning Sickness:

1 – Eat crackers ALL THE TIME to avoid having an empty stomach. It appears that the causes of nausea are related to the same hormones that are loosening my uterus to hold the baby. Those hormones are so concentrated that they are also loosening the connecting passage of my stomach-intestines-esophagus. The result is more acid than usual.

2 – Sleep well and take the vitamins. The strongest my immunological system is, the better it will be ready to fight nausea.

3 – Drink ginger in any preparation (tea, soda, etc.). Ginger is a natural remedy for nausea.

4 – Eat in small amounts several times a day instead of having three or two big meals.

Do you know any other remedies? Do share them with me!

photo credit: chimothy27

YES!

This is not just an article about pregnant women.

This is a blog entry about my newfound pregnancy.

Yes! Yes! Yes! Baby! Baby! Baby!

I found out two days ago and after hours of shock, finding the best way of popping it to my husband, and telling it at work and to my friends and family, I get to write it here.

I guess this blog is not just “Diary of a Newly-wed” anymore, but something more like “Diary of a Newly-wed-Newly-pregnant woman”!

I swear I did not have a plan for this; it is completely unnexpected. And yet, I have never felt happier with what is happening right now to me with the man I love. We are both producing new life and we are going to be the best mommy and daddy. I suppose I was just living the life away as best as I could and this only exponientialy magnifies the level of happiness I feel. We’re going to have a baby. My baby. And I’m gonna love him or her with all my heart.

I feel bunnies and rainbows and butterflies and birds and little elves and candy and flowers all over inside and around me.

Watch Out Mommies Magazine, You have another Mommy on her way!

Yay!

I apologize that it has taken me so long to write. I came back from New York and got caught up on a frenzy of home cleaning and cooking, grocery shopping, laundry, back-to-work duties, missed husband cuddles, family up-to-dates…I could go on and on, but I finally managed today to steal some time to let you know how things are.

I started school again, and I took two classes. I earned a scholarship and a grant that I will not have to pay back. I am taking these two classes (English and American History) extremely seriously; so much that I am reading even those chapters of the History book that I am not even supposed to be reading. All right: I did so at the beginning when things were smooth and refreshing; now I have to really cut back on the time I spend writing and hit the books harder if I want to pass with A’s.

I also have some great news: I won the first place in the non-professional poetry category of the “Sabor Hispano” contest last week. The theme was “El Ritmo y Pasión de la Vida” or “the rhythm and passion of life”. My poem was in Spanish, but I am working on the English translation for your enjoyment.

My husband went to the award ceremony (yes, there was an Award Ceremony!) and he looked really proud of me and said I looked like a movie star. The judges had me read my poem on the microphone. As I read it out loud, I could see the flashes of the cameras shooting at me. Then the clapping came from a small crowd, which to me looked like a stadium filled with cheering and joy. I did felt like a movie star. Moreover, I felt like I was moving a step further to my dreams: to become a writer.

It’s so funny. A little more than a year ago I was single, had no job, no driver’s license, no friends, no real purpose in life than live each day as it came. Today I am married, I am back to school (just for fun) with a scholarship, I went to New York (just for fun!), I have a stable job, some savings, no debts, I write for this website, and I just won first place on a poetry contest.

I talked with my friend Darrell about it and his reply was that next year I will probably be President. Who knows?

Look inside of you and find your passion. Feel it. Make it your own. Develop it.

If I have learned something in the past year is that making dreams come true is possible.

And if I can do it, so can you.

Wait, no, it was in 2006, when I went to Denver.

Pardon me, I did went to the Dominican Republic in December, but it was plainly more a business trip concocted with running all over, never resting, never actually having fun for more than a couple of hours at a time, jet lag, family crusading, and always worrying about the future.

I admit that I have been worried for the first 48 hours of my trip, worried if I’ll make it back alive and be with my beloved husband (who was in Austin, by the way, with the people at work too, hows that for an irony!), how will my family take it, if I’ll get my passport back on time, if I’ll have enough money to spend, if my plants will die before I get back…

Going to Washington, D.C. and seeing stuff one only sees in the movies, books or news — Like the White House, the Washington monument, the Lincoln monument, the Arlington Cemetery, JFK & Jackie O tombs, old, old buildings, and a million other things I will post here in pictures soon, makes me realize once again… There is only one life… and you have to live it at it’s maximun exempt as much as you can.

My great friend, Jenny, is one of the most realistic people I’ve met. Meaning she always gives her honest opinion to me about everything.

Then she says I’m a control freak, and I think she’s right.

I also think it is Ok being paranoid and a bit of a control freak… when that helps organize your trip, find the right train or bus, keep documents and money with you, have a good water supply near you to avoid dehydration, and a mini first aid kit near you in case of emergencies. However, it is also good to let go and have your eyes, your mind and your soul fill up with the things that you don’t see every day.

People, people, people! Black, White, chinese, hindi, dominican, salvadorian, spanish, mexican, women, men, old, young, punks, emos, hippies, drag queens, cristians, jews, musulmans, buddists, non believers, poor, rich, middle class… it is a little bit of everything in this cluster of streets, trains, buildings, cars and more cars that is New York.

My sight is not wide enough to absorb all the grandeur of my surroundings.

I stop for a second and I fix my eyes in the Empire State Building, which tonight has red, blue, and white lights adorning it. The Moon is in the background.

I exhale and think no more of money, war, diseases, hate, sadness, school, tests, work, sleep, Olympics, food…

I just stare into the lights of the night and realize that… it’s all worth it.

To Be Continued..

Plane # 1 was on time; I met a lady from Dublin who talked me into how she came to the USA to work for a year and ended up marrying her husband who was from Austin. Now they live 6 months of the year in each country and their daughters are going to college in Dallas and Lubbock.

This has been going for more than twenty years now and it actually gave me some good prospects : ).

Plane # 2 was delayed and I noticed how the war for the top benches to put the carry-on baggage is never ending. I was lucky to jump out of the plane anyway as soon as we landed and run to get plane # 3. Those seats were making my but literally square by the time they finally announced we were preparing to land in New Jersey!

The New York – Manhattan line was really a sight I’ve never seen before and suddenly all the anxiety and preparing for this journey was worth it, if not gone completely. All I can say is I am happy I get to do this now… because for what I hear around, unless one is carelessly rich and duty-free one doesn’t really get the chance to hop on a plane for a week of fun… and since Fall is almost here, I better squeeze the fun as much as I can!

My friend Jenny, Master of Relaxing under the most stressful situations and whom I haven’t seen in years, picked me up and we drove for a million tangled streets filled with the cutest scrunched houses and… scrunched cars. Apparently it is a miracle if you find a free parking spot on the wee hours here.

But not only did we; she took me to a Dominican little restaurant and I had the best meal in months: dominican-style fried chicken, tostones, white rice, mofongo, and a beautiful piece of arepa that I am saving for today’s breakfast.

I forgot, I also had a country club merengue soda, bottled in New Jersey. It was delightful.

Then we took some pictures with the Manhattan skyline as a background. I can’t wait to develop them!

We arrived to her house, I unpacked and tried to sleep…

Today: Dominican Embassy to Renew Passport, New York, NY.

Tomorrow and Saturday: Washington, D.C.

To Be Continued…

My husband and I dated for less than three months before we decided to get married.

Two weeks later I was Mrs. Bilbao.

No, I was not pregnant. Yes, I was and still am desperately in love with him.

My engagement period was almost nonexistent; I never got to live together with my prospect of husband; I never even spent more than two months of my life away from my parents.

The changes I went through swept by me with both the spontaneity of a summer breeze and the strength of hurricane Dolly.

One week I’m kissing mom and dad goodnight and the next I’m making dinner for my husband and I.

One day I am Laura Marte and two weeks later my planet name is turned into an unknown town in Spain that I can never relate to.

One month I wake up at 95 degrees, lizards running all over the walls, and birds chirping in the garden by my window. The next I’m awoken by the squirrels fighting over a nut and snow falling in loud thuds on the wood ceiling.

And further on, one night I hang out with my friends at the disco or a party and the next I don’t have any friends at all to hang out with.

But name, location, weather, and even friends network changes are only secondary in the marriage process.

The first and most important thing that we had to adapt to is that from the moment we said “I do” all our actions would affect both of us.

Everything from the house we were going to live in, the furniture, the food, where and when we were going to work and study; our family, neighbors, domestic chores, sleep time; birth control; finances; whose career would come first; getting a pet or not; even what soap, shampoo, and detergent we were going to use.

Those first three months of having to stay inside the house 24/7 were the real fire proof for our marriage.

For starters, I am a morning person and he is a night person. Meaning I was in bed by 9:00 p.m. (blame the time saving; back home the sun is up at 6:45 a.m. and down at 7:00 p.m. all year long) while he kept working in his computer until 12:00 p.m. or more; I could be up by 7:00 a.m. while it took a bulldozer to drag him off bed before 10:00 a.m.

I recycle everything and he says it is a waste of time because glass and cans will go back to Earth anyway and the pollution generated to recycle plastic is also destroying the ozone layer. I keep recycling anyways.

I mess the kitchen so bad when I am cooking I wish I could set it on fire every time we clear the table. He can prepare a complete meal with just one pot, a spoon and a knife without spilling a single grain of sugar; it will more than likely be hamburgers, tacos, or hot dogs though.

He is allergic to the dance floor. I live for the music.

I could go on and on, but the mother of all discrepancies between us is that I love hanging out with real people and he is more than happy chatting for hours with his online friends of the alternative energy forum.

“Honey, I’m just socially impaired” he admits.

Thanks to my open attitude I have been invited to birthdays, lunches, barbeques, potluck parties, graduations, receptions, dinners, dances, and all sorts of parties.

I can count the ones he attends with me with the fingers of my right hand (and there are some leftover fingers). Each time it has been hell for him to walk by my side and force a crooked smile while checking his watch every five minutes. He’s like a bored kid who wants to go back home as soon as possible to watch the Sunday cartoons.

But all these differences and many more melt away in the everyday life whenever we see each other in the eye after a long day of work and school. There is some invaluable secret about cuddling up in silence for half an hour and tell each other some apparently banal things like how did the day go for us.

On the weekends I wake up before him and just let him sleep away. And as soon as he hears the “click” of my bed lamp going off at night he turns off the computer and climbs to bed.

I do my big mess in the kitchen, but the result is food so good to him that he has assured many times he is so glad that God set us up together. This is understandable, for all he had to eat were hot dogs and burgers before meeting me.

He has learned to recycle for me and puts away all the little plastic and cans so that I can take them to the recycling center.

I can go out on my own and visit with my newfound friends and neighbors; have a girl’s night out; go swimming, dancing, eating, etc. and when I get back home he’ll be glad that I was having fun.

He shows me his latest inventions and little wires and stuff that I don’t understand at all and I exclaim in awe that I’m so proud and happy that I married the smartest guy in the world.

He sees this blog and my other writings and says he is so glad I’m pursuing my real career.

“I am happy when you are happy” is what he says.

And I think that should be the base of all marriages.

In fact, it should be the base for all relationships.

Just love people for what they are.

Don’t try to change them.

photo credit: Torsten Althof