Wednesday, September 19, 2012

This Is My Confession : Part 1


This Is My Confession : Part 1

One of many backstories

To begin, I will tell you our love story so that you can begin to know who we are. Dillon and I met on a very hot August day in 2011. It was the week before school started and we had both moved into our dorm at the University of Central Arkansas. Every year the campus hosts a dorm competition which includes typical field day activities and lots of sweating. Our team’s color just happened to be black--go figure. He and his three best friends had placed duct tape numbers on the back of their black team t-shirts. Dillon’s number was peeling off, and as a motherly type who can’t stand to see your tag untucked or your shirt sleeve rolled up, I fixed his numbers. When he turned around, something about those blue eyes got me talking and we hung out for the remainder of the competition. The next day we met up again, attended a pep rally (although I have no school spirit and couldn’t care less) and hung out in his room for the rest of the day. We have been inseparable since.
From me taking care of him while he threw up; to him force feeding me Theraflu when I was a sick whiny baby; to me driving him to the airport at Thanksgiving and clinging to him, crying when he tried to go through the gates, I knew we were going to make it. I knew we were in love. He took care of me like no one other than my Daddy ever had. He got mad when I opened my own doors and would do anything to see me smile. For the first time in my life, I was face to face with someone whose presence was so vital to my happiness. I poured out to him all of my secrets--my failures, my pains, my insecurities--and without a doubt, he held me closer with every word.
We made it through so many hardships that first year. From fights with friends and moving out of his dorm, to rough weeks with roommates, to life changes and soul searching; we fought through. The control freak in me hated dorm life with a fiery passion. The cautious side of me held back from people when it seemed like hurt was inevitable. Dillon is the opposite of me in several regards because he trusts more willingly than I do, he makes the best of ungodly circumstances, and he doesn’t complain as much as I do. There were times when I said to myself, If it wasn’t for Dillon, I would move back home. To those of you who know how rebellious and independent I am, and how much I detest my hometown, you know this is a huge statement. In retrospect, I know that God gives you people to hold you through the hard times.
In April 2012, just a few days before my 19th birthday, our lives changed in an irreversible way when two pink lines appeared on a home pregnancy test. We cried, we hyperventilated, we cried some more, but we promised to love one another no matter what happened. The next day we sat in the UCA clinic awaiting the results of a better urine test that came back “definitely positive.” We called our parents (and cried some more) and then we told a few of our very closest friends. Disappointment rung in the voices and eyes of several people, but I never stopped feeling like we were loved, and as the baby grew inside me, the love from others grew as well.
At eight weeks we met our wonderful doctor, Dr. Lawrence, and together we saw the little miracle we had created. No bigger than a raspberry, our baby resembled a Teddy Graham more than an actual human, but the heartbeat was clear and quick and we loved that little Teddy Graham with all of our hearts.
The day of our first doctor’s visit, we went our separate ways. I returned home to Paragould, Dillon made the drive to Norphlet, and the hardest summer of my life began. We both had jobs--I was an intern at Flower Shop Network, blogging, researching, and learning about the world of marketing. Dillon provided maintenance for his parent’s oil fields and spent five days a week in the hot summer sun. My hormones were raging, I was sick for weeks, exhausted for months, and I needed my favorite person to hold me and tell me it was all ok. I had to battle morning sickness, adjust to living with my family again, accept the fact that I didn’t know how to socialize as a single person anymore, and oh yeah...plan a wedding!

No comments:

Post a Comment