This is a Recording

You may remember the idea I had to record my grandparents reading some stories for a future little one. This weekend I took off down the road with my laptop, storybook, and a dinky little microphone that I've had for years. My Nana was more than happy to participate. The first thing that we recorded was this song called 'Little Man' that my grandma likes to sing. I never liked it a whole bunch because the duck gets shot. But it's part of my childhood. Next I had her pick a story from the book, which is an omnibus collection of Little Golden Books. She picked 'Goodnight Little Bear'. We got through it pretty quickly only messing up a teeny tiny bit. My Nana is a good storyteller, she does the voices and the noises both. I reassured her that she did not in fact sound like a total hick. Then while she wrote out a script for another song, I pinned down my grandfather. He hemmed and hawed about it for a few moments but still sat down and began looking through the book for his story. I knew the one he would pick out. 'The Color Kittens'. My grandfather loves kitty cats. As I positioned the mic close enough to pick him up, he straightens his back and tucks in his chin. I signal him to start and am immediately amazed at the change in his voice. Deeper richer. I would have never imagined his reading voice would be so much different than his speaking voice. He adlibbed a little here and there which only served to make a truer reflection of who he really is. It recorded beautifully. I was amazed at his voice. It reminded me of this old record I used to have that had the story of Sleepy Hollow on one side and Rip Van Winkle on the other. His voice was just that awesome. If he could stay on point he would make a wonderful narrator. Then my Nana and I headed down to the creek to record another old favorite, 'Blind Child's Prayer'. We decided to record it down there because when I was little I used to lay in her lap in the swing listening to her sing, the creek burble, the leaves whisper, as she gently wove her fingers through my hair with one hand, patting out a beat with the other. I was hoping it might pick up some of the ambient noises. It didn't, my cheapo mic wasn't powerful enough but it did make a very crisp very clear recording of her voice.
Afterwards we went for a walk. My brother met us on the way back and asked what we had been up to. My Nana told him immediately obviously thinking he already knew. I had wanted to keep it a little bit of a secret. Maybe its selfish but I wanted to make this for MY future little one. And I knew what would happen which it did. My brother asked me to make him a copy for his daughter when I finished. I mean she already has access to our grandparents, she sees them two to three times every single week. I guess it is a little selfish, but now I don't really have that option. I agreed to give him a copy when it was finished.
My parents got home a little later and I attempted to corner my Dad. That didn't work. He refused to participate citing a headache, being too busy, he wasn't croaking anytime soon, not in the mood, blah blah blah. Maybe I can catch him on another day. My mom and I retired to my old bedroom and sat down to listen to the recordings i'd already done. That's when we realized that 'Little Man' hadn't recorded completely. Don't know why, maybe the jack slipped out of the port. So I'll have to bring it all back out there again next weekend to redo it anyways. Then Mom recorded mine and my brother's favorite childhood story 'The Pokey Little Puppy." She messed up and got tickled. She wanted to redo it but i loved the little laugh in her voice that made her all the more real in the recorded version. That's the version of my Mom I'd want my kid to know anyways.
I'm going to try and get my husband to use his fancy recording software to put it all together and EQ it properly in the end.
It feels good to get this done. I know that its preparing to make the best of a horrible situation. It's a little morbid in a way. But I'd rather be a little morbid and a lot prepared than to be in denial and miss out on this opportunity and consequently cause my future child to miss out too. My grandmother assured me once again that no matter what happened, iui, ivf, adoption, they would support me and love whatever child we brought into the family.

Friday the 13th

Alot of people seem to think that Friday the 13th is a bad day. Nobody is for sure exactly where the superstition came from. For me this Friday the 13th has been a good day. Today is mine and my husband's 4th wedding anniversary!
It's hard to believe that its been four years since our wedding day and a little over eight since we started dating to begin with. I think we've surprised alot of people with how far we've made it. A few have even been silly enough to say that out loud. I'll admit we were an unlikely pair in the beginning. I was a socially stunted quiet young woman freshly graduated from highschool and working at my first job outside of the family business. He was eight years older, had already owned and sold his own franchise and was starting over as a general manager. He had an infectious smile and a kind heart even though the weight on his shoulders was at times immense. I could have never imagined the first day I met him that this is where we would end up. It certainly wasn't love at first sight, but then again I was far too rational and closed off for that to have happened. I do know that from that first day he made my life better.
Our wedding day was beautiful. It was on a Sunday. I woke at the crack of dawn and slipped out of the house as quietly as I could manage. My feet were soaked with dew by the time I'd finished the short walk to my grandmother's house and the area where we would have both the ceremony and reception. I couldn't move the huge round tables I'd rented by myself so I crept into their sleeping house and into my grandmother's bedroom as I'd done so many times before waiting for the school bus. It hit me as I watched her sleep that this would probably be the very last time I would do it. It made me hesitate to wake her up, but I did. She threw on some old sweats and helped me lug the big tables into position, and then the chairs. My mother and maid of honor arrived shortly thereafter and together the four of us put up the decorations, wrapping tulle around fence posts, filling little glass vases with stones, water, and a floating candles. I attended to pretty much every detail. I didn't realize then that I tend towards the control freak side of things. But I did have my hands in everything for our wedding. I made the ring bearer pillow, all the floral arrangements, the invitations, even designed the cake. I was finishing up on the back deck when I saw him coming from the house. He was smiling though still a little groggy. I caught a glimpse of him coming through the line of forsythia bushes and under the trellis before I darted back to my grandmother's bedroom. Out of breath and suddenly so very anxious. With shaking hands I did my own hair and makeup, putting tiny little white butterflies in my hair. Then it was time to step into my gown. My best friend from grade school helped my mother lace me up. I was shaking, peeping out the window as everyone arrived. The lady who drove my school bus when I was younger arrived with the cake as we took a few informal bridal photos away from prying eyes. My dad came to tell me it was time and escort me down the aisle. I stepped out of the safety of the house and everyone swiveled to look at me. My heart stopped. I felt panic rising up. I seriously considered turning to run rather than walk through the midst of all those staring faces. My dad latched onto my arm, probably feeling me tense. My gaze lifted and I met my husband's face. Everyone else disappeared as if a massive fog had swept through the yard. I made it through our guests, who thank god didn't stand. I said my vows in a clear sure voice. He broke down and cried saying his. I am so very happy that I went first. I wouldn't have been able to keep from crying if I'd followed that. It was over so fast.

We cut the cake, signed the papers, and were whisked away to the airport. The first step to fulfilling my lifelong dream of visiting Ireland. Our honeymoon was amazing.
We celebrated our anniversary yesterday since he has to work nightshift all this weekend. He brought me some wonderful gifts then we went to the Olive Garden to eat. I bought him a black long sleeve jacket thingy that he looked absolutely striking in. It was a good day and it felt nice to have something to celebrate.

Make no bones about it. This year has been our most difficult ever. With the diabetes diagnosis, the infertility diagnosis, and his mother's failing health, it has been a struggle most days to find a reason to smile. I know that this is the stuff that makes or breaks a marriage. This is where we discover if the words we said on our wedding day were true. And for us they were. Our marriage and our relationship is just as strong as ever. We are finding a strength within each other that we never knew existed. And whatever comes, whatever happens I am so glad and so grateful that he is my husband.