This is kind of a cool story. One I think deserves laying down in perpetuity. There are all sorts of love stories, this one is ours; yours, mine, and your fathers.
I had a terrible time dating. Always have. I am more of a serial monogamist. You’ll know what that means when you are older. But suffice to say, I was “finished with dating” after one more disastrous attempt when a friend of mine from the morning AA meeting I went to said he had someone I should meet. I groaned audibly. Good Lord. Being set up?? This rarely went well. But what the hell, I am not getting any younger, so I said, “Okay.”
That Friday he sent me a phone number and a name. I looked him up on Facebook. Tim Husom. He looked pretty cute, your Dad! He had a weird poodle looking dog, but that aside, I thought, okay, he ain’t so bad, we’ll give this a shot. I told our mutual friend that “Tim Husom” could call me. And he did! We had a fun and lively little chat and agreed to meet the next week for tea. A perfect gentleman. AND SOBER! I was thrilled.
On Monday, July 20th, 2010 I got up that morning and instead of driving into work, I decided to ride my bike! Which was kind of ludicrous, because, for one, I didn’t have a helmet and two, I had never ridden my bike downtown before! But something told me I needed to do this, so I did.
As I was riding down Glendale Blvd. in my giant dark sunglasses and black skinny jeans, I saw this handsome fella and his weird poodle looking dog walking up the street towards me! We made eye contact and I smiled and realized a second later, that this was most likely the TIM HUSOM I was meeting for tea later in the week. I pulled my bike over and texted our mutual friend. Sure enough, Tim had an office on that street. So I texted him, “I think I just rode my bike past you!” He replied, “That was you??!” I walked my bike back up to meet him as he met me halfway. He was sweet and wonderful. He offered me some watermelon. I ate it. Awkwardly. And almost fell over my bike. I get nervous like that. It was short but sweet and I rode away waving. He texted me almost right away, “You are adorable.” I smiled.
I think so.
We started dating right away and it wasn’t long before your Dad told me that I should pick out a ring. Oh, and that we should have a baby. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to do with him, even though it had only been three short months. But nothing felt weird or rushed. It all felt just, well, right.
We went to my gynecologist and asked him what I would need to do to get pregnant. I was 37 at the time and a lot of women at that age have trouble. He told me to start now, it could take a year. So we did. We started that night.
That was in October. By then I was living with your Dad in his little treetop apartment in Echo Park.
On November 4th I took a pregnancy test because my boobs hurt so bad.
It was positive.
You were not waiting.
You were ready.
I just hope we are too.
I love you, little bean.