15 years

I apologize for not writing more. Believe me, I have written a lot in my head and even started a few posts, but none have made it to publishing. To say we've been busy is an understatement. House projects abound and both Ben and I are in full panic mode. We both just realized last Friday that I'm not just pregnant... we'll have an actual mouth to feed and butt to diaper in just a few short weeks. Don't ask me how we managed to forget this part of being pregnant (that it ends with a child that you are now responsible for). I guess denial was at it's best. We are giving ourselves until August 15th to get everything done. Hopefully we make it. August 15th happens to be another milestone, our 15 year high school class reunion.

The reason I wanted to write about this is because I was IM'ing a girl I hadn't talked to since high school via Facebook yesterday. The conversation was quick but I learned her little girl was 16 (I forgot she had a baby in high school), and she had a miscarriage last year. We bonded over that. What's funny is I really cared about what was going on in her life and of another girl she's best friends with, who I hadn't spoken with in 15 years as well.

Most people might find this a little weird. For those of you who graduated with 60 people like I did, you might relate better. We came from a very small pond, a very small 'everyone knows your business and gossips about it within 5 seconds' pond. This sort of environment makes most people want to get out of said pond and jump into a big lake where no one cares if you've put on 10 pounds and blew up your own mailbox (inside joke, just ask someone from DeGraff, I'm sure they'll be able to tell you about it).

After talking with my old classmate I asked her if she was going to the reunion. I got a 'probably not'. I've noticed this response with so many of my fellow classmates. And, I think I know why.

When you leave town at 18, there's always a lot of big dreams. You are going to be 'it', that person who makes it, the one who actually follows through with all the plans you made and bragged about when you were 18. The one good thing about being an 'old fart' now.... is that I know that 18 year-olds are stupid. Young, naive, arrogant, self-centered but most importantly... stupid.

I think we all view our fellow alumni as that same person they were when they were young and stupid. We forget that life has probably happened to them as it has happened to us. The thing is, no one wants to go back and say, "I have failed at so much". Because surely no one has failed as much as you have. Surely they will judge you for all your missteps you made in your 20's. Surely they will not have the wrinkle lines and stretch marks, the lost jobs, the little house, the broken marriage, no marriage, a disabled child, childless, whatever... whatever you have gone through, surely they will judge you for it.

Ok, fellow classmates. I am huge. Hugely ginormous pregnant, that and the fact I have put on roughly 75 pounds of sheer fat since you last saw me. It took me 7 years to graduate with a bachelor's degree. A degree in an industry which looks down upon the very professional I desired to be. Employed at jobs I loved, I was laid off from both places of employment within 5 years, which was devastating emotionally. I have lost 2 pregnancies, but have been blessed with nearly 3 great little girls. I have a good marriage, but definitely not without it's faults. I live in the ghetto and have very little shot of trying to sell this house we labored over without taking a loss. I have many regrets, made many stupid choices and routinely stick my foot in my mouth. But... I am going to be present, open and honest because I hope that you might see that I will not judge you, and hope that you will not judge me.

For any of you that are contemplating a class reunion, let go of the anxiety. Place hope in the fact that you might be able to relive some of the good times of your childhood and bond with those who have shared the same life losses as you. That is what makes us each unique and now, grown-up.

I will be there, oh class of 1995, large... and in charge.