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the adoption saga

Saturday, January 11, 2003

Gather 'round, kiddies. Pull up a chair, kick off your shoes, grab a mug of hot cocoa (or a hot toddy) and make yourself comfy. Auntie Kat is going to tell you a little story.

Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away (ok, it was Phoenix), a wee lass called Kat fell in love with a gallant young prince who rode up on a white horse (ok, it was a red Vespa) and stole her heart (ok, she doesn't really have a heart). Kat and the Prince spent many a day together, whiling away the hours talking and boning and eating fried foods. It was all very lovely and shiny like all new love should be, and one day Kat and the Prince decided to do what all young couples in love do - they shacked up together.

Kat and the Prince had a rollicking good time in their fancy yet humble new abode. They said, "Wow! Now that we can be alone every single day, without our parents around, we can bone all the time!" So Kat and the Prince threw caution and birth control to the wind with that mistaken youthful certainty that they were invincible and invulnerable to the consequences of their actions, and boned away confidently with imagined impunity.

Then one day Kat woke up with a curious feeling in her stomach. "Gosh," she thought, "whatever could be the matter?" Then she promptly ran to the bathroom and puked her brains and perhaps several other vital organs out. The Prince was awakened by the soft and soothing sounds of her retching, and came into the bathroom to inquire about her well-being.

"Kat," he said, "What the fuck?"

She replied, ever so sweetly despite the burning sensation in her throat, "I have no fucking idea." Of course, Kat and the Prince had a sinking feeling that they had exactly the right fucking idea. So our fearless Kat downed some baking soda and water (which is a magical cure-all for stomach ailments, by the way) and hauled her youthfully perky ass over to her job at the local Target store. She had a tasty, well-prepared meal at the hot dog stand prior to her shift, and immediately regurgitated it, as many people would. However, she knew this wasn't just a reaction to the questionably edible phenomenon known as the hot dog. She went home early from her shift and rode on the white horse/Vespa to the drugstore to purchase a test to determine the ailment that was causing her incessant vomiting. Upon being told that the local Walgreens didn't stock malaria tests, she purchased the next best thing - a pregnancy test.

When the Prince returned from his job at the place that Kat can't remember the name of anymore, she showed him the results of the test. Sure enough, Kat and the Prince were now expecting a mini-Kat or mini-Prince. Kat and the Prince spent the rest of the night staring blankly off into space as they contemplated what the fuck to do. And, just like a prime-time drama where everything's left up in the air, I'm going to say...

TO BE CONTINUED.

babbled by Kat @ 6:51 PM |


Tuesday, January 14, 2003

Come on over here and sit down by the fire with your Auntie Kat, kids. It's story time again!

When we last left our heroine, she was staring blankly off into space alongside her trusty Prince, trying to figure out what to do about their impending offspring.

The Prince, after much thoughtful consideration and several Heinekens, came up with a plan. "I know what we should do!" he proclaimed to a nauseous yet attentive Kat. "We're obviously too young to take care of a baby. I mean, technically speaking, our relationship is illegal in 49 states! (Sorry, Tennessee!) I think you should get an abortion, lovely Kat."

Kat was somewhat crestfallen by the Prince's suggestion. She had always been pro-choice, but in this particular situation, she just didn't feel that abortion was the answer. But she was a mere wisp of a woman, just 15 years old, with a bright future that would be forever altered by raising a child. She had no idea what the right decision would be.

Kat spent several weeks contemplating what to do about her predicament. The Prince became more and more distant, overwhelmed with the sudden, overpowering thundercloud of adult responsibility now hanging over his head. Kat was left to her own devices to make a decision about her child. After much thought and gnashing of teeth, she decided that adoption would be the best option.

The duration of Kat's pregnancy was a volatile, emotional, and difficult period of her life. Kat moved from Phoenix, the land of dirt, cacti, crystal meth and mullets to San Diego, the land of beaches, palm trees, mary jane and bleached blondes at the insistence of the future adoptive parents of her child. She moved several times, staying with friends of friends and eventually in her own shitty yet horrible apartment. The Prince joined her in the shithole apartment when she was about 7 months pregnant. They lived a meager existence, cheered only by their walks to the local record shop where they couldn't afford any records and the 7-11 where they could afford white bread and luncheon meats. It was a far cry from their former home in Phoenix, where they had been living large on full-priced sandwiches from Arby's and Jack in the Box. They lived in anticipation of the life-changing event that was fast approaching.

And, once again I'll leave you on the edge of your seats by saying... TO BE CONTINUED.

babbled by Kat @ 8:10 AM |


Wednesday, January 15, 2003

Okay, boys and girls. We'll have story time one last time before Auntie Kat takes her sleepy medicine. If you're good, maybe she'll let you give her a full frontal massage before she goes to sleep.

We last left our heroine, the round non-virgin, in her wondrous shithole apartment, accompanied by her loyal Prince and several loaves of Wonderbread. She was entering the last stages of her pregnancy, which as we've all learned from film and television involves the mother-to-be saying "I want this thing out of me!" at least 972 times per day. She went to the doctor two weeks before her due date and was informed that her baby, whilst somersaulting and doing all manner of squirming within Kat's uterus, had turned around and would have to be delivered via cesarean section. Kat, having never had surgery of any kind, promptly freaked the fuck out.

After riding back to the castle/shithole apartment on the magnificent steed/Vespa, the Prince and young Kat sat and discussed the upcoming surgery. Somehow, the combined efforts of the Prince, Kat's mom, and Kat's grandparents managed to calm Kat down about the surgery. She accepted her fate and hoped like fuck that they would give her a ridiculous amount of painkillers. She called the doctor, and the cesarean section was scheduled for four days after her due date.

Two days before the scheduled surgery, Kat went into labor. There was no dramatic breaking of water, no ruined shoes, no delivery in the back of a taxi. She just started having contractions, and went, "Ow." A friend with a car took Kat and the Prince to the hospital, because riding on horses and Vespas is not good for ladies who are in labor. Since it was the middle of the damned night, the doctors waited until early Sunday morning to perform the surgery. Kat was given some painkillers, but she proceeded to beat the crap out of the Prince anyway when the contractions got really bad, just because, you know, he got her into this mess in the first place.

The surgery was mostly a haze. Kat drifted in and out of consciousness during the surgery, but waited to completely pass the fuck out until she heard the baby's first cry. Then she, you know, passed the fuck out. She awoke hours later when her mom arrived. Shortly thereafter, the baby was brought into the room. Kat held her in her arms, but it was a bittersweet moment. She knew she would be giving the baby up in just a few short days.

A few days later, she did just that. Kat had met the adoptive parents several times, and was sure they were the best people she could have chosen as parents for her child. The paperwork was done, and Kat and the Prince handed the baby over to her new parents, and drove away.

It was the hardest thing Kat had ever done.

THE END

(Don't worry, there will be a postscript.)

babbled by Kat @ 8:15 AM |


Thursday, January 16, 2003

Look, it's a cute panda to distract you!You people were doing so well with the commenting until I started telling this story. Apparently Auntie Kat's storytelling has rendered you speechless. Either you're so riveted by the story that you can't bring yourself to respond, or you've fallen asleep. I suspect the latter.

In the spirit of all of those movies that tell you what happened to the teenaged characters after high school, Auntie Kat is proud to bring you the postscript to the adoption story, sponsored by Laphroaig and Trojan condoms.

The Prince and Kat moved back to Phoenix and lived together for a while. They eventually broke up because Kat started seeing signs that perhaps he wasn't really a Prince after all. With his title sullied and crown tarnished, he moved on, eventually knocking up another girl, whom he married. The "Prince" and his wife live in Phoenix with their two children.

The baby was very healthy. Her adoptive parents have taken wonderful care of her. She is now a bright young lady who is almost twelve years old. She plays a ton of sports, and is ridiculously intelligent, very pretty, and very tall. She lives in a suburb of San Diego with her adoptive parents, who are pretty much two of the most awesome people ever.

Kat, after dumping the "Prince", moved on with her life. She married and moved to a suburb of Los Angeles. She began working as an accountant's assistant and eventually worked her way up to become a senior accountant by the age of 22, all while going to school full-time at night and maintaining a 4.0 GPA. (What? I can brag. It's my website, you know.) At the age of 23, she decided to change her career and her life, and moved to New York City, without the husband, to start a new career in information technology. After three years in New York, she longed to wear open-toed shoes in December and moved back to Los Angeles, where she currently resides with her girlfriend.

Kat sees her daughter 2-3 times per year. They get along famously.

Who says there's no such thing as a happy ending?

babbled by Kat @ 2:21 PM |