Contemplation

I'm sure it happens to everyone, but this time of year I get contemplative. For me, the holidays have often been pivotal.

It was just before the holidays in 1993 that I walked out on my first husband. Although I knew it was the right thing, occasionally I would think maybe I could have done more to save the marriage. Then years later I saw a list of signs of abuse in a spouse, and he fit every single one except for physical violence: insane jealousy, separating me from friends and family, tearing me down emotionally and intellectually, etc. He never physically hurt me, but there are other ways to harm a person.

A year later, the man I had met in New Orleans in March, Michael, came out from Pennsylvania to visit me in Los Angeles for the holidays. He hated L.A. -- the smog, the warm winter weather, the massiveness of the city, the kamikaze drivers -- but he loved me, and 5 months later we moved to New Orleans together. We have been together ever since.

It was this time of year five years ago that Michael and I started trying to get pregnant, and soon we were, with Arabella, who was born just before the holidays the next year. That next years holidays were rough, I was sleep-deprived and apprehensive about my job prospects, but we had become a family.

Although last years holidays passed without much of note, it was when I was due with a second baby, a baby I miscarried at 11 1/2 weeks. Although that is early, it was far enough along that we were picking out names and I was buying gear that I hadn't had with Arabella, like a bassinet and a baby-san. I was very sad for a long time that year.

Now we have a new baby, Sabine (well, not so new, but she still has that new baby smell, most of the time), and we are all well. I know that as long as I have my family and friends, everything will be fine. Thank you, one and all.

Arabella with Santa, and her cookie monster watch.