A baby named Coke...

Growing up I was always the mothering hen kind. Doting around bossing my siblings and playing house. At a young age I would tell everyone that when I was all grown-up I would have eight children, and one of them would be named Coke. I was demanding and I was adamant that eight children would be in the future with some poor unfortunate man. 

Some years later the mothering hen was replaced with a task-oriented young lady who wanted a career and the freedom of being her own woman without the strings that came attached with children. If you would have asked her if she wanted children she would have scoffed with a resounding, "No." Sadly, she had succumb to a general fear in our society--by admitting that she wanted children she would be seen as less of a professional and that the opportunities for promotions would bypass her because of my "lack of dedication."

Time passed and I eventually married and both John and I started post-graduate degrees. My days were filled with research and my nights were spent sitting in the classroom. Between my job and school most of my time with John was spent eating fries and a burger around midnight.  We may have lived together, but were were living completely different lives.

Near the end of our graduate careers we were both burdened with extraordinarily long hours of work as well as the demands of finishing our degree work in time to receive our diplomas. Even more pressing, I had been battling the stomach flu, and when the symptoms ceased to subside my greatest fear loomed in the back of my mind. pregnancy. A part of me thought that if I didn't take a pregnancy test it wouldn't be real. 

It sounded rational at the time...Ignorance is bliss?

I made it through graduation, but finally admitted to John my greatest worry. So we both sat in the bathroom for three minutes--waiting. Then it happened. He cried was joy. I cried too, but with less enthusiasm. Through the tears I managed to choke out, "How can I be pregnant? I didn't graduate to just have babies." 

The months passed and then Brecken finally arrived through less than ideal circumstances. But he changed John and I in ways we didn't know were possible. For so many years both of us had lived our lives thinking only of ourselves--consumed with our needs and wants. Upon his arrival the mentality of "I" and "me" was  replaced with "us, ours and we." His little spirit was the missing piece that made us a family.  

For that I will always be grateful. 

Now, I look back at that little girl who wanted so much from life--family, husband, and a child name Coke and I have the deepest respect for her. She was brave and independent and didn't define her life based on the standards of the world. Oh, she was sassy, but it was her unbridled spirit for knowing exactly what she wanted that helped make her so strong. 

Twenty me, was more lost. Trying to find her place in the world, defining her life and value based on the number of friends instead of the quality. Making bad choices based on the need to please others. She was happy, but lost. If I could, I would have that sassy little thing visit her. I'm sure she would point out that there is more to life than pleasing others and defining one's life based on the opinions of others. Oh, and I'm sure she would remind her that she wanted a baby named Coke...