We finally got an offer on our California house. It's not a great offer, but we've waited so long, the market is so slow . . . I had to work hard to convince Jamie to take it, and I think our agent could use some Zantac right about now. We have spent the greater part of today trying to fax/scan/teleport all the myriad documents (hey, Sarah, I just worked in the word myriad! do you even read my blog?) to complete the contract. Come to think of it, I could use some Zantac. I really want out of this mortage.
I don't know what is up with our All-in-One printer/copier/fax/scanner/pasta-maker, but after two hours of trying different ways to send the documents, I was tearing my hair out, the kids were irratible and whining for my attention, and I had visions of the fax-beating scene from Office Space. We finally had to stop and feed our kids and ourselves, for our own sanity. Jamie was filling our plates while I dashed upstairs for a long-postponed potty break. Then the phone rang--our agent again. I tried to re-zip up as I heard Jamie thunder across the kitchen toward the phone, then I heard a mighty CRASH. I stopped short, and then I heard a yelping "AWWWRRRGHPH!"
I ran to the top of the stairs, wanting to know if Jamie was alright, but before I could speak, there was another "AHHHHWWRGH!"
I knew my husband was sprawled on the floor, probably writhing in agony from the sounds of it, but I began to laugh. The phone was on it's fourth ring. The food was getting cold. The printer/fax/scanner/woodchipper was covered in copies of legal documents with initials here, here, and there. I still had to pee. And I heard weaker, more pathetic "ahhhh!"
By then I should have been down there, checking on him, looking concerned and sympathetic. Except I could not get the smirk of amusement off of my face, and I was afraid my laughing would make him mad. Anyway, he was getting up finally, and managed to get to the phone before the machine picked up. I heard him telling our agent that we still could not get the scanner/fax/printer/snowcone-machine to work, and we were sitting down to dinner, so it would be awhile.
Well, now the kids are in bed, I think all the initialling has been done, documents have been scanned in batches and emailed, and I hope all arrives safely on the other side. The upside is that my husband bought some really nice bottles of wine in Canada a few weeks ago, which he would not let us drink. He said it was for special occasion, we can't just "drink it cuz we want some wine." I've asked twice this week and was told no, (No wine for you!) the night was not "worthy." (Not sponge-worthy?) But tonight I got him to open a bottle.
I just pray that we are done sending documents for awhile, because I am in no mood to touch the copier/fax/printer/makeitandbakeitoven for at least a few days.
I realize this post is over a year old, but I could not pass by without comment.
"I can't think of a reasonable basis for opposing an early and merciful end to this particular pregnancy."
I carried my second child, who was diagnosed with anencephaly, for the full term. She was born alive and wiggling, and I held her sweet body in my arms for three days, until she quietly passed away, having been loved by her mom every millisecond of her life in this world. There is nothing unreasonable about expecting a mom to love her baby, ANY baby, however heartbreaking that is. The constitution does not guarantee us freedom from heartbreak. Babies are born imperfect every day, and they still deserve every bit as much love, and protection under the law, as perfectly healthy babies.
"And in fact I very much doubt that more than a tiny proportion of "right-to-life" voters or leaders would want themselves or women they cared about to bring such a monster to term."
Shame on you for calling any tiny helpless being a monster. As for the people who carry these babies, and the people who care about us . . . you don't know what or who you are talking about. Women who choose not to carry such babies to term still go through the SAME medical trauma, just earlier, and they deny themselves the opportunity to love fully, and to grieve fully . . . and to move on, fully at peace.
I for one am glad that the NAVY hospital that diagnosed my baby did not offer "termination." Every single person there treated my baby as a baby, and treated her with as much value as any baby. I have met many, many moms, who went to civilian hosptials, who were encouraged to terminate, indeed wheeled to l&d within hours of diagnosis, when you are still in shock and denial. That is what a culture that tolerates abortion becomes. Abortion cheapens life, devalues it. Imperfect life becomes expendable. Replacable.
It is one thing for a woman to choose a safe and legal procedure, fully accepting the trauma and risks. But it is a much darker, colder thing to demand that we, the people, should subsidize it.