Auburn Gal Always

I've got friends in low places

Well, I've got them all over, really. But I wanted to tell you about a friend and what she did for me. To be honest, before today, I wouldn't have applied the official term "friend" with all its connotations and the inferences you might draw when it is used (salute to Dr Villaume). I actually barely know her. She's a couple of years older than I and went to a different high school. Not sure if she went to college and where. I've "known" her for several years on this very basic, non-intimate way. When DD attended Vacation Bible School with a friend, this "friend" was one of her teachers.

It was during that week of VBS that I learned that she is expecting her first child, due in December (I think.) It was that week that we began sharing that I am pg, so DD got to tell her and the other teachers - but made them promise to keep it a secret.

(DD's understanding of secret is that it's something you don't tell anyone - unless you whisper very softly!!!)

On the last night of that VBS, I congratulated Karen on her pg. She started to say "Congratulations to you too" but stopped, remembering it was a secret. I shared my news and she confessed to knowing already. (wink wink)

We discussed the little miseries of the first trimester and she said that her nausea, etc was improving. I commented that mine was just beginning and was much more intense than during my 1st pg.

That was it. That was our first bonding moment as pg gals, soon-to-be-friends.

About 2 weeks ago, I met Karen at the local Wal-Mart. It's comforting to know that even the very wealthy of our area (NOT me) shop at Wal-Mart too. You can tell her clothes are not Old Glory brand, though. I told her how cute she was looking (the TRUTH. It's very very important to tell all pg gals they're cute, even if they're a little on the not-cute-pg side. Cute ones and not all feel like brahma bulls -with retroverted humps!)

She asked how my pg was going, ie the nausea. I had a moment of weakness and told her that the nausea was minor compared to the migraines. I HOPE I didn't moan on forever about my pitiful condition (at least it seems pitiful to me), but I told her about having to go to the ER for medication for the pain and vomiting and about being able to work 3 days/week (at best). She didn't turn really glassy-eyed, so maybe I was brief.

She said she'd pray for me. I replied, very sincerely, "Thank you, I really need it," sniffed and tried to not start crying over my intense self-pity.

Well, Karen pulled up next to my new van (aka the Pimp-Mombile) as I was leaving DH's office. I don't know if she knew I was there or what, but she pulled up to say hello and ask how I'm doing.

Tangent warning:

To be very honest and transparent here, I am slightly intimidated by Karen. Not because SHE is intimidating in her personality, she's actually very friendly and sweet. I suppose it's knowing that she is independently wealthy and always seems to have just left the salon with her perfectly coifed hair and perfect makeup and always freshly ironed linen pants (even in this unHOLY heat and at the end of a long day of this unHOLY heat) and manicured and pedicured nails. And knowing that her house is probably magazine cover clean (because she has HELP or maybe because she has TIME - of which I have NEITHER!) But I am intimidated. She is soooo many things I am not. And, for the most part, I'm ok with that. But still, there is this thing with our culture that forces us to compare us to each other and realize our differences and equate those differences with inadequacies and failures on our part. And as much as I wish it weren't true, I'm a victim of that particular peer pressure.

(tires screeching as we return from that tangent)...

So, when Karen pulls into the parking lot in her new Lexus SUV (of which I am not intimidated or jealous. I am seriously in LOVE with my tricked-out dream van), I was surprised and assumed she was there to order a $8000 mahogany and copper door unit or something.

Nope. She just rolls down her window and asks how I'm doing.

"What did the MRI show?"

(Only NOW am I realizing that I've had NO chance to tell her about the brain MRI from last week. How did she know?) Joking: "They didn't find anything." (DH loves that joke way too much.) "Actually it was normal, so there's no defects in my head causing the migraines. It's probably hormones."

"How are you doing?"

"Pretty good. Today's a good day, so far."

"I'm glad. After we talked in Wal-Mart that day, I went home and got down on my knees for you. I went to our church Prayer Share Time and told them how sick you've been and how we all really needed to pray for you. And we did."

Almost in tears, I'm so touched: "Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me, REALLY."

"I've had migraines and know how bad they make you feel. I just am glad you're doing better."

I thanked her several more times as I helpfully pulled a loose hair from her perfect hair.

And she left in her big, hunking Lexus. But not before she commented on my new ride and how cool it is that DD can push a button and close the sliding doors. Of course, I pointed out that the keyless remote opens and closes the side doors and the rear door too.

As I left DH's office and drove on to my own job, I was singing along with Martina (I'm sooo much better than she is when I'm in the car alone). "At last" was the song. I looked up at the blue skies and was struck by their beauty and their Maker. I realized what had just happened between Karen and myself and began to cry like only a pregnant woman can.

There are many of you readers (and I question the sanity and time management skills of those whom I don't know) who have also prayed for me over the past few weeks as I've lamented the not-so-glorious part of this pregnancy (see Whining post). To you I want to tell you that your prayers have truly made a difference in my health and sanity and frame of mind and PEACE of mind.

Thank you and God Bless you for the love in your heart.

Did I mention that I have a cool new van? heehee