Terra & Joyce – 1990

I had a friend named Joyce.
She was one of those women who was always up. Always smiling. Almost on a daily basis anyone could walk past the back of her townhouse and smell baking heaven drifting out of her kitchen windows. Joyce bounced when she walked. Was dedicated to giving you a Hello hug. Was crazy about her husband and doated over her (ok, yes they were) super cute tow headed boys. Joyce made marriage look like a romantic Hollywood movie. Best of all, we were friends, neighbors who lived two doors from each other in a small but elite Pittsburgh townhouse community seated on a hill. For three years we talked through what being a wife meant. New mom issues, how-to’s and crises. Woman excuses for those ‘I’ve got a headache’ husband moments. Another best, Joyce and I could count on each other. We didn’t gossip, criticize or judge each other. We just were. Friends.

Meanwhile, in the very early hours on Halloween, 1984, my water broke. That also happened with my son but his entrance was more like, “Excuse me mom but it’s time! I’m ready to come out and meet you and dad  and my relatives and the world. This is it! My time begins NOW. See, our water just broke! No, don’t freak-out! Remember, I’m expected. Time to get Dad. No worries, i’m sure he’ll clean up the water. No no – stop looking down and wondering what the hell is going on… CONCENTRATE… it’s me mom! We’re doing this…!” Looking back those moments make me smile. But this second pregnancy was different. For eight and 1/2 months it had been difficult different, and although my pediatrician was always calming down my gut feeling about delivering early, “You’re going to have a pre-thanksgiving baby, he’d say…“ (a pre-thanksgiving baby!!)… despite putting such a stupidly worded visual in my head, there I stood standing with my gut feeling dripping down my legs and all over the floor.

On Halloween! Alone. Not a happy camper.


I had gotten up to pee for the 4th time. Walking passed the bathroom mirror I stopped, leaned in-to take a closer look and immediately felt an awful tearful sorrow for how tired and puffy and un-glowing my pregnant face looked. I mean REALLY… where WAS my ‘glow’ they always talk about? What happened to the pregnant glow I was supposed to get? Dropping my head and feeling I was on the edge of a total crying breakdown I suddenly remembered something… where was he? I’m not supposed to do this alone! Where WAS he? I need him! Where was he!!! And as I looked back in to the mirror deeply pondering that lonely thought with my reflection, the moment was detoured by a self-absorbed ‘here come the tears’ relapse question… “and WHERE’s my glow?” (sniff sniff)

He… was in Florida playing golf. On business. I told him to go because (supposedly) I wasn’t due till mid-November. “Go! Make us money. Play golf,” I said. So he went. Back then there weren’t cell phones, and he hadn’t given me his hotel information.   “If you need me call my secretary. She knows where i’m staying.” I guess I thought that answer was ok. He did. So ok… my water breaks at 2 a.m., I have no number to call my husband, I’m alone with a dog (with an attitude) that I never wanted to adopt in the first place… and now I have to wait until 9 a.m. when my husband’s secretary gets to work.

I called Joyce.