I delivered my own baby this morning, I had been in a slow steady labor all night. I was standing in the birthing suit  wishing things would happen faster, it felt like so little progress has been made all night. But then I reached down between my legs and felt a bulge, is that a head? Little push, it is the head, a soft, fuzzy, warm little head. I beakon him over (kind face, dark brown/black hair, nicely built, makes love to me soft and sensuously, never fucks me, reminds me of wearwolf in Sookie books in look and mannerisms, kindness and caring, I am in love with his gentle caring of me, he is so opposite the love of my life, I want them both, but separately) I place his hands between my legs on the babies soft, warm head. He smiles in wonder. I smile into his kind dark eyes, there is so much love there, I feel drawn into him but not lost, I feel a peacfullnes and such an enveloping warm comfort. I reach back between my legs, I push, the soft head pushes farther out. In a moment I push again, I cradle her back with one hand and her tiny head with the other, I push again. She slides free and as I cradle her against my body I bring her up to my chest. I hold her close, wrapping my self around her beautiful, tiny little form, I rest my cheek on her tiny blond head. I meet his eyes, I am so in love with them both.

The dream again, not in a faint distant memory to be recalled later in the day kind of way either, but rather sitting bolt upright in bed clutching at the bed sheets kind of way. I knew what the day would hold the moment I woke.

Solitude with one special person is what I'm craving. Someone to give me all of their attention with nothing to distract us from one another. I am feeling lonely, in need of loving, and aching to be held and adored. I can't quite explain why I feel the need so deeply. Zack and I had been so close the last few days but then nothing. Distraction, very little eye contact, as if he pulled away suddenly. I'm not usually one for the dramatic but it felt like he walked out of the door to work this morning and took my heart with him. I feel empty and lost.

I know just which vehicle I'm seeking. I head directly uptown to an area full of homes that are owned by very privileged families. I find the house, its grand and beautiful with lush green landscaping, big high windows, and it is occupied by a young idealistic newlywed couple. I walk up the long winding driveway and turn towards the back of the house. I find just what I'm seeking as I turn the corner...

Maybe I made a bad choice today. OK, I did make a bad choice today. I'm good at that. Isn't that why we are all her on this journey... I know its the reason I assume lives...

I guess I had become complacent in such a great relationship. I could fuck up, and yet, things always came out right. Not this time. I really screwed up. I was mad, or rather irritated. I have always been the caretaker of our children. Yes, the three oldest were mine from a previous marriage but, I guess I expected Jamie to take on the roll of father seamlessly. Does that ever happen in a blended family? I had hoped it would in our "perfect" relationship. No one really has a perfect relationship, yet I allowed myself to think that our love and our pasts would make for a damn near close scenario.

I guess I was in that honeymoon stage until today. I have been kidding myself. I have been ignoring things I should not have. Jamie is wonderful, Jamie is understanding but, Jamie is not their father. As much as he would like to be, or maybe as much as I would like him to be, he is not unbiased towards them in the way a biological parent is. If we had not had a sweet little boy together it might be different. He plays favorites even when he thinks he isn't. It makes things hard. He just cant quite love them in the way that I do. I'm not sure how I ever thought such a thing was possible. I've come to equate the difference with the way I feel about my nieces and nephews. I love them yes, but...

I am more unhappy now than I ever was before. At least it was only wanting to escape yesterday...

I want to run to something, someone, and I cant. Knowing that is worse than feeling trapped. The future only holds the promise of many, many more tears at this point, and I can't take that right now.

Pretending you don't exist at all is easier than being denied your touch... I can't talk to you and then not be not able to see you. I just cant! I promised to give and never just take. But apparently, I don't love you enough, because I find this is not true. I find I am selfish and greedy. I can't see past my own needs to take care of yours. This is not love,  this is codependence. You should run before its to late...

I have stopped assuming lives... I seem to be stuck forever in this hell called love... I do not wish to be here... I do not wish to feel this anymore... I want to travel on... but I can not... I am stuck forever in pain...

What a rambeling existance Ive lead, from a spure of the moment marriage that lasted a year at the age of 19 to being single until the age of nearly 30. Ive gone from a broken home and back more times in my life than I care to count. Ive had more step parents and siblings than I care to tick off, it would require the use of both hands to go from beginning to end.

Mara was a Finance Specialist by choice and a mother by almost accidental design. She had been diagnosed with unexplained infertility a year into marriage and before she and her husband Dan had even had time to make a decision about going down the long, heart wrenching and expensive fertility road, she called an adoption agency on a whim. She never expected the process to go smoothly but was pleasantly surprised how easily they were accepted as perspective adoptive parents. There were of course the home studies and the perspective parent classes, but all in all it was a bearable process.


Their first "almost adoption" was traumatic for them both, but was never truly meant to be. The father of the almost adopted child was never really on board, he had his doubts and reservations even when the child's mother was just talking about working with the adoption agency. The fact that Mara and Dan knew this to begin with should have helped them brace for that eventuality but still, it hurt. For Mara, losing a child to a failed adoption felt like a miscarriage for the infertile.

Despite this initial setback and heartbreak, they went forward with the adoption of their son Karter the next year even though there were also some concerns as to his birth fathers willingness to sign over his parental rights. The first year after his birth, Mara and Dan waited on pins an needles to see if the finalization of Karters adoption would go through. To lose a child after getting to know and love him would unbearable. Mara felt it would be easier to have her heart ripped out than to survive loosing Karter.

I was standing in front of the brownstone; it looked just as it had when I was child. The brick and stone facade was crumbling in places and the casement windows were thick with pealing paint, their frames cracked. It was a building badly in need of repair. The site of it brought a rush of emotions, both pleasure and pain all at once. The musty smell of layer upon layer of old autumn leaves stung my nose and reminded me of the days when Sam and I would scrape them all together between the oak trees, only to jump and roll in them until they were once again spread across the yard.

Then the memories started, the ones I always try to push away, those of my sister headed down a disastrous path of drugs, sex, excesses of ever kind, and ultimately the death of my niece Brenna.

Despite the bad memories the dilapidated family brownstone could conjure up, Id bought myself a grand brownstone in Brooklyn Heights. I paid its $4 million dollar price tag with money Id earned in what some might call the easy way. I was an escort for high class business men, old-money, old fashioned, high class business men...

My muti-million dollar mansion was at the corner of Cranberry and Willow St., maybe you've hear of it, they call it the moonstruck house. Its a masterpiece in all its 4 story glory, tree lines shaded streets, surrounded by row house after row house. One of my favorite things about living here is the Promenade. I love spending my free afternoons.......