Once upon a time a street-smart feminist from Evergreen fell for a funny podcast-loving socialist Greener on Tinder.
Think Jack Pearson from This Is Us, Derek Shepard from Grey's Anatomy, or River Song from Doctor Who. Tom is my Jack, Derek, River, and Christina Yang, for that matter, all rolled into one. He is my person. My equal. My mentor, and the feminist in me is not afraid to say, my protector.
Like I said, it's just been me. That's not the case anymore. A single moment can change everything. Even the core of who you are...
Radicalism and internet dating is the beginning of every great modern relationship... Let's be real, I fell for Tom the minute he lifted his pant leg and showed me his Zoidberg on our first date. When so many Evergreen forces collided together at once, I knew it had to be fate. Destiny. Our stars were perfectly aligned. I don't believe in soul-mates (we can love multiple people fiercely in our lifetime), but I do believe in great loves. In my past relationships, my partners were never my best bud or greatest confidant, they were people I liked, admired, and for the majority, they were people I respected. Then I met Tom.
Think Jack Pearson from This Is Us, Derek Shepard from Grey's Anatomy, or River Song from Doctor Who. Tom is my Jack, Derek, River, and Christina Yang, for that matter, all rolled into one. He is my person. My equal. My mentor, and the feminist in me is not afraid to say, my protector.
Life can change in a single moment and in that moment the very core of who you are can also shift.
Pregnancy has made me vulnerable. Do not mistake my ability to be honest or emotional as vulnerability. Being emotional and honest is only part of being vulnerable. For me, true vulnerability lies in being able to trust. I do not trust people. Not often, anyway. Just because I tell you a personal story doesn't mean I trust you, it just means I respect you, am relating to you, or educating you. Trust is earned. Trust is a precious gift. It is the most precious gift I can give to another individual, particularly a man. Pregnancy has made it is easier for me to be truly vulnerable--and Lord protect me, trusting. Slowly, as mine and Tom's relationship has grown I have come to learn that in order for me to truly love, I have had to learn how to trust. Pregnancy has fast-tracked this process and I have been extraordinarily resistant to its demand of me to let my guard down.
My life has been perpetual chaos. It has always been me, myself, and I, ready to flee at the first sign of trouble. Of danger. Of hurt. Hurt. I don't--won't do hurt. I don't do disappointment either. Don't judge me too harshly. Trauma has a way of unraveling a person, of rebuilding them with turmoiled nerves and a cool heart. Tack on multiple traumas and you begin to feel like a skeleton walking around--exposed and brittle, a single breath or sneeze can send you toppling to the ground.
My life has been perpetual chaos. It has always been me, myself, and I, ready to flee at the first sign of trouble. Of danger. Of hurt. Hurt. I don't--won't do hurt. I don't do disappointment either. Don't judge me too harshly. Trauma has a way of unraveling a person, of rebuilding them with turmoiled nerves and a cool heart. Tack on multiple traumas and you begin to feel like a skeleton walking around--exposed and brittle, a single breath or sneeze can send you toppling to the ground.
Like I said, it's just been me. That's not the case anymore. A single moment can change everything. Even the core of who you are...
During pregnancy mom is the primary focus. For the most part I understand why, but I also think it is a little unfair and a little dangerous. It certainly isn't progressive. Tonight, I honor my partner and my friends because this journey would be impossible without them. For all the battles I've fought, I am not confidant I could have entered this one [pregnancy] alone and made it out in one piece, I think I would have pitched tent in the middle of an ER and camped out until the birth.
In the first trimester Tom joked that morning sickness was misspelled and instead should have been spelled mourning to capture the true essence of the experience. For some parents-to-be morning sickness is minor or entirely nonexistent. The best way to describe what I felt was a combination of a hangover and being on the verge of having the flu, 24/7 for 21 weeks. There were days when I couldn't keep any food or liquid down. I could feel how dehydrated I was, it was terrifying. I just sat in front of the computer and cried as I read forums because I couldn't even hold down water. I was responsible for a life and no matter what I tried it felt like I was failing. I was desperate. One expectant mother wrote about watermelon.The thought of the fruit didn't nauseate me so I texted Tom and asked if he could pick up pre-cut watermelon. Then I drew a bath.
Not sure why, but floating on my stomach in the water helped curb my churning stomach. When Tom arrived home he sat on the floor of the bathroom and fed me watermelon while I floated with my bare rump bobbing in the water like a buoy. He then proceeded to tell me that the moment would definitely be making it into our vows. We laughed. Then I ate some more and I didn't feel like such a failure. I was alive and so was our baby.
At the very end of my 1st trimester, I was cursing every woman who told me how morning sickness lessens and pregnancy gets more fun at the end of the first trimester and into the second trimester. My morning sickness actually increased. It's been pure intermittent hell. Once I laid on the bed half passed out from exhaustion from vomiting and Unisom while Tom spoon fed me Jello. This doesn't include all the nights that Tom dubbed my "Sicking Hour" (2:00-3:00 AM) where he's wrapped me in the softest blanket we own (appropriately named Fluffy) while I sit on our porcelain throne with my head hanging over a waist basket nestled on my lap because unexpected peeing and diarrhea have become common occurrences. When I apologize for his having to witness me in all my vomit-spewing glory after waking him up for the 110th time since my pregnancy, he says, "no one should have to do this alone." My guard slips a little more as I realize I am not alone. This isn't just my journey. It's his too, just a little less nauseous and a whole lot cleaner.
After I found out I was pregnant I told Tom if he expected me to have a baby then I needed to be able to enter and exit the house on my own. Our house at the time had 10 metal steps leading up to the front door and then another flight inside to what would have been the baby's nursery. There was no way I'd be able to safely care for our baby in the house. Three days later we met with Tom's realtor and by the end of the week our house was on the market, 2 weeks later we had an offer and then the following week we made an offer on another house. Fast forward six weeks and we are living in a new home. It was all Tom. I make it sound easy, it wasn't. It was super stressful. There were nights after work when I just wanted to relax, but couldn't because the house was being shown so I parked down the road and waited. When potential buyers came out I ducked down and laid across the front seats so they couldn't see the weird pregnant lady watching-waiting to go home to stuff her face and sleep. Meanwhile, Tom was working two jobs while he transitioned into his new position, 30 minutes away, often not getting home till 7:30 PM or later and working on the weekends. Want to test your relationship? Start planning a wedding, get pregnant, accept a new job, buy a car, sell your house, buy a new one, and throw a Christmas Eve/Housewarming Party in a four month period. It's grand.
Tom was steady--the calm in the midst of a storm. He made all the transitions we were experiencing as seamless as possible as I waddled around with pregnancy brain and a roller-coaster of emotions. I wasn't hysterical, but pregnancy brain is very real and so are hormones. It was overwhelming.
I observed someone other than me preparing and doing everything to make sure Eli and I were going to be taken care of. It was entirely out of my hands. I was completely powerless and for the first time I didn't mind. I wasn't terrified. I didn't feel trapped. The world beneath wasn't going to shatter. I felt loved. I watched and learned. Learned that I wasn't just a skeleton, that I am in fact made of flesh and muscle, that my nerves are bundles of joy and my heart is much warmer than I give it credit for.
When we moved into the new house Tom had his dad and his dad's friend install handrails at the backdoor; a ramp is currently being built for the front door so I can use my scooter. I advocated for myself, but Tom made it possible when my insurance fell through deciding that while a ramp did fall under the category of durable medical equipment, which is covered, it is an installation, therefore, it is also a home modification, which is not covered. Tom reversed a nightmare situation and turned it into a dream. My dream. His dream. And a dream for our baby.
The day before Christmas Eve terrible spasms ran from my lower back up to my shoulder blades. They lasted for hours. I tried to call Tom, but it went straight to voicemail, twice: enter panic attack. I called a friend and asked her to come over, a mother herself, she knew. She'd been there and so she sat with me, even after Tom got home. There's a saying, "it takes a village to raise a child." This old adage doesn't quite stretch far enough, in truth, it takes a village to help someone through pregnancy.
I wish there was more support for partners who are not pregnant. Who does Tom turn to in moments of fear, insecurity, or if he gets overwhelmed by my anxiety? What about counseling if he has a hard time adjusting once the baby arrives? Not saying this will happen, but it could, where is the support for our partners, family, and even friends? We talk a lot about expecting moms, but what about the people in their lives?
Life can change in a single moment and in that moment the very core of who you are can also shift...
Pregnancy has changed me. It has made me softer and more open. I am less likely to dart at the first sign of difficulty. I am able to remain grounded because I have a partner that I believe in and wholeheartedly trust. I never imagined such vulnerability to be possible for me. After all, I'm Jess Tourtellotte a.k.a J.T. Savage--tough as nails, gritty, independent. My life has been one big adventure. This whole time I thought I was supposed to be finding myself, but I was mistaken, I've been on a quest to find true love. And I got it, more importantly I deserve it. Time does heal, but it doesn't heal everything. Even with good counseling and tools there's still scarring, but I can finally feel my scars fading. Now, I'm Jess Tourtellotte a.k.a. Cuddlebug. Soon to be, super mommy, sidekick of tummy time, and slayer of monsters and bed bugs. This gradual change has only been possible because of the people in my life who have shown me unconditional love is real.
In case you're curious here is a photo of Tom's Zoidberg:
In the first trimester Tom joked that morning sickness was misspelled and instead should have been spelled mourning to capture the true essence of the experience. For some parents-to-be morning sickness is minor or entirely nonexistent. The best way to describe what I felt was a combination of a hangover and being on the verge of having the flu, 24/7 for 21 weeks. There were days when I couldn't keep any food or liquid down. I could feel how dehydrated I was, it was terrifying. I just sat in front of the computer and cried as I read forums because I couldn't even hold down water. I was responsible for a life and no matter what I tried it felt like I was failing. I was desperate. One expectant mother wrote about watermelon.The thought of the fruit didn't nauseate me so I texted Tom and asked if he could pick up pre-cut watermelon. Then I drew a bath.
Not sure why, but floating on my stomach in the water helped curb my churning stomach. When Tom arrived home he sat on the floor of the bathroom and fed me watermelon while I floated with my bare rump bobbing in the water like a buoy. He then proceeded to tell me that the moment would definitely be making it into our vows. We laughed. Then I ate some more and I didn't feel like such a failure. I was alive and so was our baby.
At the very end of my 1st trimester, I was cursing every woman who told me how morning sickness lessens and pregnancy gets more fun at the end of the first trimester and into the second trimester. My morning sickness actually increased. It's been pure intermittent hell. Once I laid on the bed half passed out from exhaustion from vomiting and Unisom while Tom spoon fed me Jello. This doesn't include all the nights that Tom dubbed my "Sicking Hour" (2:00-3:00 AM) where he's wrapped me in the softest blanket we own (appropriately named Fluffy) while I sit on our porcelain throne with my head hanging over a waist basket nestled on my lap because unexpected peeing and diarrhea have become common occurrences. When I apologize for his having to witness me in all my vomit-spewing glory after waking him up for the 110th time since my pregnancy, he says, "no one should have to do this alone." My guard slips a little more as I realize I am not alone. This isn't just my journey. It's his too, just a little less nauseous and a whole lot cleaner.
After I found out I was pregnant I told Tom if he expected me to have a baby then I needed to be able to enter and exit the house on my own. Our house at the time had 10 metal steps leading up to the front door and then another flight inside to what would have been the baby's nursery. There was no way I'd be able to safely care for our baby in the house. Three days later we met with Tom's realtor and by the end of the week our house was on the market, 2 weeks later we had an offer and then the following week we made an offer on another house. Fast forward six weeks and we are living in a new home. It was all Tom. I make it sound easy, it wasn't. It was super stressful. There were nights after work when I just wanted to relax, but couldn't because the house was being shown so I parked down the road and waited. When potential buyers came out I ducked down and laid across the front seats so they couldn't see the weird pregnant lady watching-waiting to go home to stuff her face and sleep. Meanwhile, Tom was working two jobs while he transitioned into his new position, 30 minutes away, often not getting home till 7:30 PM or later and working on the weekends. Want to test your relationship? Start planning a wedding, get pregnant, accept a new job, buy a car, sell your house, buy a new one, and throw a Christmas Eve/Housewarming Party in a four month period. It's grand.
(Image of 10 metal steps leading to the front porch of our old house.)
(Photo of our new back porch that has 3 steps with newly installed handrails.)
(Photo of ramp being installed into our new front porch so mobility scooter has VIP access.)
I observed someone other than me preparing and doing everything to make sure Eli and I were going to be taken care of. It was entirely out of my hands. I was completely powerless and for the first time I didn't mind. I wasn't terrified. I didn't feel trapped. The world beneath wasn't going to shatter. I felt loved. I watched and learned. Learned that I wasn't just a skeleton, that I am in fact made of flesh and muscle, that my nerves are bundles of joy and my heart is much warmer than I give it credit for.
When we moved into the new house Tom had his dad and his dad's friend install handrails at the backdoor; a ramp is currently being built for the front door so I can use my scooter. I advocated for myself, but Tom made it possible when my insurance fell through deciding that while a ramp did fall under the category of durable medical equipment, which is covered, it is an installation, therefore, it is also a home modification, which is not covered. Tom reversed a nightmare situation and turned it into a dream. My dream. His dream. And a dream for our baby.
The day before Christmas Eve terrible spasms ran from my lower back up to my shoulder blades. They lasted for hours. I tried to call Tom, but it went straight to voicemail, twice: enter panic attack. I called a friend and asked her to come over, a mother herself, she knew. She'd been there and so she sat with me, even after Tom got home. There's a saying, "it takes a village to raise a child." This old adage doesn't quite stretch far enough, in truth, it takes a village to help someone through pregnancy.
I wish there was more support for partners who are not pregnant. Who does Tom turn to in moments of fear, insecurity, or if he gets overwhelmed by my anxiety? What about counseling if he has a hard time adjusting once the baby arrives? Not saying this will happen, but it could, where is the support for our partners, family, and even friends? We talk a lot about expecting moms, but what about the people in their lives?
Life can change in a single moment and in that moment the very core of who you are can also shift...
Pregnancy has changed me. It has made me softer and more open. I am less likely to dart at the first sign of difficulty. I am able to remain grounded because I have a partner that I believe in and wholeheartedly trust. I never imagined such vulnerability to be possible for me. After all, I'm Jess Tourtellotte a.k.a J.T. Savage--tough as nails, gritty, independent. My life has been one big adventure. This whole time I thought I was supposed to be finding myself, but I was mistaken, I've been on a quest to find true love. And I got it, more importantly I deserve it. Time does heal, but it doesn't heal everything. Even with good counseling and tools there's still scarring, but I can finally feel my scars fading. Now, I'm Jess Tourtellotte a.k.a. Cuddlebug. Soon to be, super mommy, sidekick of tummy time, and slayer of monsters and bed bugs. This gradual change has only been possible because of the people in my life who have shown me unconditional love is real.
In case you're curious here is a photo of Tom's Zoidberg:
(Photo of Tom's lower leg tattoo featuring Dr. Zoidberg from Futurama.)
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