Faeries, Frogs and the Unborn Infant

My faeries have been close by from an early age: Judgment, Maturity, Felicity and Promise.

They watched over me as I made the decision at the age of 45 to have a child. Two months later, they looked on as I changed my mind. I’ve be indecisive my whole life, and Judgement, one of my faeries, was present at this particular juncture to teach me a big lesson.

My decision to have a child started with a social media site where I met a wonderful man. We enjoyed one fascinating weekend and with Felicity's urging, we moved in together. Six bewitching months later we married. His kind heart and warm nature cast a spell over me. He was gentle and really listened and absolutely adored me. He opened doors for me, paid for every dinner, planned fun trips, engaged in honest conversation and touched me with strong magical hands that made me glow inside. My stomach bulged with butterflies for several months, and I became overwhelmed with the desire to replace them with a baby.

He was 54, divorced, semi-retired, the father of three grown children, the grandfather of two young boys and he’d had a vasectomy. I feared that “starting over” wouldn’t be the least bit appealing to him. My fears were allayed when I learned that he was totally onboard. He spoke with his doctor about a vasectomy reversal since he’d only had the surgery a few months prior. The doctor confirmed. We still had a “window.”  

My faerie was fast back on scene to see how I would handle the situation. Judgement wondered if this would be different from choices I’d made in the past.

Thanks to Maturity, when I decided to have a child, I reflected on my life and past decisions. It was no secret that I didn’t have a good track record. My first big poor decision was made when I was 17 years old. I ran away with a guy whom I thought loved me. Maturity later revealed that I was just flattered because he took a second look at me. Maturity doesn’t come around very often. In this case, she didn’t show up until years after I found myself in front of a notary at a closed flower shop in the bad part of town exchanging vows with a teenage boy at midnight on a hot, humid, Friday. Honeymoons are meant to be ethereal, but we skipped that part and went home to a rented trailer overrun with cockroaches. Then Maturity and my other faeries went on vacation for a very long time. The runaway plan had worked, or had it? I was hitched to a boy, not a man, and we had no money, no dreams and a cupboard full  of cockroaches eating through our Twinkie wrappers. My faeries looked on for the next 12 years, as I took paltry jobs, survived a cult religion,  used illicit drugs, allowed myself to be physically abused and rather freely explored sex. Then, Promise stepped in, sprinkled her dust, and led me back to the warm coven. I soon got a divorce. It was a wicked ride, and I chalked up more bad decisions over that span of time, but it was over … for now.

Under the careful watch of Promise, all of my faeries collaborated and let me heal at-bay for a few months. Then, as unpredictable faeries will do, they took vacation again! In their absence, I embarked on my next big poor decision. I was 38. My first divorce left me lonely in Atlanta, Georgia and working three jobs. Eventually, my wandering feet took me back home to the Gulf Coast where I soon started dating a guy. He made one statement saying that I was “fine” and once again, I was flattered. My sagacious Judgement faerie couldn’t even look at me. Felicity and Maturity danced around my life's fringe, but Promise was far away and Judgement was disgusted. Eventually, my car was repossessed and my feeble job was fizzing out. The kids upstairs from my apartment partied all night, every night, and my lease was coming due. I had to do something, ut my options were thin. Judgement nudged me in the right direction, and I moved in with my parents, took a waitress job and started college. College was great. It was the first thing I'd ever done for myself, which greatly pleased Maturity. Six months later, my beau and I found an apartment. Eight years went by in that apartment, and when I was 38, we got married. Four years hence we divorced. His cheating and lying were suffocating me. It took me four years to find the nerve, but I felt salubrious when the words steam rolled up my throat, over my tongue and out into the open air: “This isn’t working. I want a divorce.” I had no money nor plan, four dogs to care for, and I was bathing in a well of depression. But, I had regained Judegement's approval.

Thankfully, Promise was immediately to the rescue helping me find a cute yellow and white cottage with a tiny yard that was perfect for my dogs. It was the 19th house I'd looked at, and when I stepped out onto the large back patio, I knew I could heal here.

Felicity hovered closer when my life reached a point where I didn’t need validation to exist, and good things were happening in my life. My boss promoted me. I discovered hobbies. The dogs and I had regular movie nights complete with our favorite treats. I volunteered at the animal shelter. I was content.  I raised the ante a bit by visiting a hypnotist. Like an exorcism, the experience catapulted me into yet another dimension. Eventually, my hypnotist said, “I think you’re ready to start dating.” What? Dating? Who said anything about that? I felt so safe. Why mess it up? Judgement was nearby, and I assumed she was grimacing at the notion. Nonetheless, she steered clear. I made a decision that pleased Felicity and acted on my hypnotist’s suggestion, doing so from the safe distance of an online website.

At a precipitous rate I connected with the man who would become my husband and best friend. Felicity was pleased and didn’t feel slighted one bit to learn that this love was far more magical than any faerie dust. I suppose that’s where the urge to have a baby arose from.

Judgement didn’t share Felicity’s sentiment on childbirth. Just when I thought I’d mastered decision-making madness, she made sure I was aware of every news segment, radio talk show, and publication featuring sad topics related to late-life pregnancy. Judgement planted the seeds to change my mind. She even teamed up with Maturity to make her point. My husband would be 72 when our child graduated high school. Who was I doing this for? Fear overtook me, (or was it clarity). I changed my mind in spite of the fact that this decision was not a do-over.  

Oh my God! Couldn’t I get anything right? It was pointless to think, “Life isn’t fair,” but I did anyway.    

Time ticked on and four years later I turned 50. All of my faeries called a truce and came together to celebrate me.  They agreed that I had processed my past through tears, journals, books, meditation and websites and in fact, I had grown. They apologized for ever having a laugh at my expense, but reminded me that they did always come to my rescue. They said they too have grown and better understand what it means to be wise, loyal and true. They gently placed a string of laurels around my neck symbolizing my wisdom. Accompaning the laurels was a lifelong gift box of happiness secured by the biggest, most glittery bow I’ve ever seen.

And just like that they were gone, but I knew they had not gone far. They never really do. Over the past five decades they roared at my expense, but always left a trail of love dust so I’d find my way back. The purpose of my birthday celebration was to remind me that I know things, people, places, feelings, smells and sounds. Most importantly, I know love. I possess confidence and wisdom. My faeries showed me that life is messy, and we will fail at times, but we clean up and keep fluttering about and that’s good enough. We will make good decisions and bad decisions. We will make easy choices and very, very difficult choices. They also reminded me that only the luckiest gal in the world finds a prince after kissing a lot of frogs.