A Speeding Ticket
I love to drive. I mean, if my car never had cruise control I’d be fine with that. I love to accelerate and steer and blow past tree after tree. If I had a little bit more guts, I would’ve aspired to be a racecar driver. I love driving, and I love driving fast. And for this reason I accumulated several speeding tickets in my younger days. It was so bad that I think my license would have been suspended if I’d received another one. Yes, Dad, while I was on your insurance I got ticket after ticket, and now at almost thirty and with two kids I finally feel ‘grown’ enough to tell on myself.
My first ticket occurred one night as I drove to my 3M internship apartment in Woodbury, MN. I was headed home from the club in my mom’s Toyota Camry when I got pulled over on 494. I received my second ticket the following summer driving with Jane’l to Kansas City, MO to see Granny Gee. We had successfully felt the tires pass over nearly 436 miles of gravel and turf. I could see the lights of downtown Kansas City as I saw the reflection of red, blue and white lights from the interior of a Chevy Malibu in my rear-view mirror. Darn! That was two speeding tickets within two consecutive years. One more and that was it for my license. Years later in Atlanta, I got pulled over going well over 80 on I-20. I think the speed limit is around 50, so technically going 30 miles over the speed limit is involuntary manslaughter. As I considered this, I began to cry and by the grace of God, I was let off with a warning. My third ticket occurred on a road trip from Philly to Pittsburgh. Hubby and I called ourselves saving money on a flight to Atlanta, and decided to drive to Pittsburgh to observe an airline promotion. Did you know that it’s an eight hour drive from Philly to Pittsburgh?? We didn’t. We decided to switch drivers after a few hours, and as soon I took the wheel I was encouraged by the wide openness of the interstate sans congestion. I asked hubby two or three times if he’d seen any troopers, and just about as he’s saying no, I see the siren lights rotating in my rear-view mirror. (Hubby’s edit of this sentence reads, “As Jolawn recklessly shoved the pedal to the floormat without abandon for public safely, she was pulled over as a consequence.”) The officer was kind enough to lower the recorded speed, so not as to reduce points on my license (still don’t really know how many points I have and what that means).
It was after this ticket that I remembered wise words from a friends’ older brother. He said that he’d never received a speeding ticket because through his friend’s errors, he had seen every type of way one could receive a ticket. So this morning, as I headed to work, I sped down I-95 trying to make it into the office before 8. As I merged onto 287, a hitched truck made me brake, and once an opening appeared, I sped around the truck. The car behind me also sped up and tip toed on my heels indicating that I was even too slow for the left hand lane. I looked to my right and a Chevy trailblazer with tinted windows, an extra side mirror a few too many antennas receded from my view. Of course, I recalled my experience with ticket number two and remembered the Chevy Malibu. I was infuriated that a policemen would dare drive a civilian car and pose as one of us, so I pulled into the middle lane to let the impatient driver receive the ticket of the day. As the tailgater accelerated past me, I smiled as the silent lights turned on and the trailblazer sped up to the car. It was the first time I would successfully avoid ticket number four.
Curly Curly
I went to NYC today (and took a photo with Nick Cannon, but it was for work so it wasn’t as exciting as it sounds). Anyway, once in New York, I headed straight to Ricky’s to get shampoo and conditioner. I have had a really hard time finding good products in the Stamford area, so it was top on my agenda. I headed there with some friends, and even saw Titi and Miko walking down Broadway in Soho.
I got a few products that several of the hair blogs say are great, so I’ll let you know how they work out after I use them!
3 Arrows in Our Quiver?
Written in January: I found out almost two weeks ago that I’m pregnant with Victor baby number three, but I don’t feel pregnant. Now, I know, I know, the experts say every pregnancy is different, but this is my fifth pregnancy. I have a little bit of experience with what pregnancy feels like in this one body that I have. On the top ten list of symptoms, I really only have item number ten, a positive pregnancy test. I am troubled and concerned by this because the last two times I felt this way it ended in miscarriage.
I have been trying not to get my hopes up with this child, but last night I had a dream that I cannot shake off. I dreamt that this little bonnet in the oven was our first girl, and she arrived in this world complication free. We were actually at home, and after she come out, I was able to get up and walk around! Talk about a dream! Immediately, I was full with nourishment and nursed her. Why would I dream that? Now, I am so excited about that possibility coming true, but… I don’t have symptoms #1 through #9, so I don’t know what to feel.
I have anticipation for being pregnant again, and I was a bit reluctant to celebrate, but after this dream I want it. I want it bad. I want to feel a baby swirling inside of me. I want the intimacy of my baby always being with me, growing in me, and feeling me. I want an infant, a cute little infant. The biggest joy of my dream was that I had a little girl. I had a mini me. I was soooo joyful in that dream. And now I wonder, was it just a dream? Or will this be my reality in September?
What do I do? Do I bombard the nearest lab and take HCG test after test monitoring my hormones. I think back to our last miscarriage. The pregnancy started out symptom free. So much so, I didn’t realize I was pregnant until my belly button started popping at eight weeks (I was still nursing eight month old Gadget at the time). This fifth pregnancy mirrors our second miscarriage so much how can I proceed on hope, when my body speaks loss to me so clearly.
I went to Target the other day and walked through the baby section. I looked for the purple dress I was going to dress my first daughter in (yes purple, never pink), and I almost bought a cute little something. But then I put it back, because imagine the heartache staring at it after yet another miscarriage. A third miscarriage. Are these really becoming common place in my life? Loss, baby, loss, baby, loss… I don’t like that trend.
Living in limbo is hard. You would think seeing the words “pregnant” on the screen would be enough for celebration. Whooaaaaaa! I gotta pause for just one second. I just heard myself. I just heard the doubt wringing off of those words. I believe the scripture says, Hope is the evidence of things unseen. I have absolutely no evidence this pregnancy will progress healthily. I don’t know what God’s plan is for this child. I don’t know if chromosomal abnormalities exist, and God took her life yesterday in a week or two, but I have been charged to believe God’s word and to live it. Right now, I am walking in faith that this baby will grow inside of me for forty weeks and arrive on this earth as a healthy and beautiful daughter. Period.
