More memories

I remember when the ice cream man would venture into our neighborhood while I was growing up, my mom never let us buy anything from him. She always said, "You never know how long that stuff's been sitting in the back of that nasty old truck!"

I remember all the friends I had growing up on Toby Lane in Metairie, LA. If I knocked on one door and no one was home, I just went on to the next door. I remember Jennifer, Jill, Kacie, Cherie, Michelle, Brennan, and Anne.

I remember Jennifer's mom kept a stash of Blow Pops. My mom never let us have candy (except on Halloween). So I'd just go over to Jennifer's house.

I remember Brennan was a cheerleader at our school and she taught me all of her routines so I could try out when I was in 5th grade. I had to try out first (we drew numbers out of a hat). I was so nervous. I didn't make the cut. Not entirely surprising. But it's the first time I can really remember wanting to belong to something---but being on the outside of it. Not worthy. Not good enough. The cheerleaders were the popular girls.

I remember making green slime with Jill (a la Nickelodeon's "You Can't Do That on Television"). We used oatmeal and green food coloring and made a mess. Jill's mom was less than thrilled. Jill is brilliant and now retired with a hedge fund. I don't even really know what a hedge fund is.

I remember we went to the pet store one day and came home with a Yorkie and two parakeets. My younger brother Kevin was allowed to name the birds (I'm not sure why). He named them "Jack" and "Jack." My parents named the dog Darby. I remember her running around in huge circles in the backyard. We called her "the black blur" because all you'd see was this blur of her fur as she whizzed by.

I remember Darby once got a hold of a pack of gum. I don't have to tell you the rest. It wasn't pretty.

I had a fear of dogs when I was little. Our next door neighbors in Houma had an English Mastiff. His name was Chaos. 'Nuff said. One day Chaos chased me (I didn't understand that dogs chase you when you run) and it was so incredibly scary. He never hurt or bit me, but he was soooo big, and I was soooo little. That sealed the deal. Until we got Darby, I steered clear of dogs. If I was going to a friend's house and she had a dog, I had to ask her to put the dog in another room. Now I can't imagine being afraid of the most lovable creatures on earth!

I remember the awful red plaid skirts we had to wear to school. They were supposed to be knee length, but a lot of the girls wore theirs shorter. I remember getting hand-me-down skirts from some of our babysitters who also lived down the block. They were not the kind of girls who wore short skirts, either.

I remember our favorite babysitters on the block were Natalie and Cathy (sisters). Natalie was older and a Star Trek and Doctor Who fan. I didn't love that about her. But she was fun and actually interacted with us and taught us how to play Sardines (glorified Hide & Seek, you hide with the person when you find him/her...until one person is left looking for everyone else who is hiding together).

I remember my parents traveled to Europe when I was in 6th grade or so and Natalie and Cathy stayed with us. We got to eat Popeye's fried chicken, Domino's pizza, and sloppy joes all week. We rented "Jumpin' Jack Flash" from Blockbuster which was a BIG deal because it was rated R and had curse words in it.

I remember one day when I was 13, I was outside talking to some kids I babysat for when I felt something weird. I went inside to use the bathroom. I'd gotten my first period. I knew what I thought it was, but I wasn't exactly sure, so I called for my mom. Then we had to go to Walgreens with toilet paper stuffed in my underwear. I was so excited to buy my first pack of Always for teens. They came in individual little purple wrappers. Nevermind that I was about the last girl in my class to get it. I was self conscious but very relieved.

I remember my first training bra. My friend Cherie teasing me. She'd snap it in the back and sing, "Erin's got the cotton!" I turned purple with embarrassment. Probably because I didn't really need a training bra. Training for what, anyway? Why can't they just call it a bra?

I remember with my period came an onslaught of other issues. Acne, obsession with my weight/how I looked, terrible self-consciousness, anxiety, and bouts of self-deprecation. Even a little self-mutilation. Does every young girl go through this? Fortunately my mom took me to the dermatologist and Retin-A resolved the acne. But the rest? We found a good therapist who worked predominantly with teenage girls.

I remember seeing my therapist off and on starting at age 13. When things got really rough I went twice a week. After my dad came out of the closet, Robin (my therapist) suggested to me that I had sensed things were not right with my parents. That I was coping with all that stuff. Who really knows?

I remember Robin's office was very cool. Neat artwork. Lots of books on shelves. Quiet. She was always drinking coffee. Nonstop. I wonder how that woman ever slept. She was chronically late, too. Even if I was late, she was later. I remember her taking notes on yellow legal pads. I always wondered what she wrote about me. It would be interesting to see now. But I don't know that I'd really want to. I cringe at the thought.

I remember there were railroad tracks right by her office. When trains passed by, it got so loud and you could feel the vibrations and a slight shudder/shift in the building. Sometimes I wanted to get on that train and let it take me far away to another place.

I remember Robin always perched her two perfect feet on a little stool in front of her swivel chair. Probably something for posture, or to help her deal with sitting all day. She always wore the coolest shoes. I focused on them when I was afraid to speak or wasn't sure where to begin.

I remember seeing other patients in the waiting room, seeing the other therapists walking around in between appointments. Wondering what went on in other offices there. Seeing other people come out with kleenex and runny noses, red faces. Wanting to go up and hug them and tell them they were not alone.

I remember feeling guilty that my parents had to pay for my therapy. I remember the insurance running out and then they had to pay out of pocket. And still I went. It may have saved me.

I remember

Until Bird by Bird arrives, I'm using a Leslea Newman book on writing to get me started. One of her first suggestions is to start with the phrase, "I remember." Just write out whatever comes to mind, and start over with "I remember" again after the first memory floats away. So I thought I might share some of that here.

I remember sitting in the Millsaps computer lab in 1994 being very confused about how to send an email to someone NOT on campus. Several failed attempts later, I finally got it. My how times have changed!

I remember eating lots of cold cereal and turkey sandwiches during my college years. The food in the caf was less than appetizing. Of course there was also the occasional late night Domino's Pizza...

I remember eating fried pickles at the Cherokee Inn with my sorority sisters. It was like a rite of passage. Fried pickles and beer. Oh, and MAPS Fest at the Reservoir: Men Are Pond Scum.

I remember being very upset on Bid Day morning when I woke up a Phi Mu. I was so sure I was destined to be a KD. But things have a way of working out for the best. I wouldn't have it any other way.

I remember wearing my Gap overalls a lot in college. I LOVED them. I thought they were so cute. Obviously that's no longer the case, but I was addicted back then. I also remember loving my Doc Martens. My friend, Emily, showed me how to rip my jeans at the bottom to look cool.

I remember becoming news co-editor of the campus newspaper and being so excited. That excitement waned as the semester wore on and I was writing most of the articles myself plus juggling classes, sorority, and other extra-curricular activities.

I remember working in the Millsaps Writing Center in the John Stone House. It was such a neat old place. Kind of creaky, quiet, and drafty. I took a Women's Studies class that was held upstairs there, and we all sat around on the floor on old pillows talking about Mary Wollstonecraft.

I remember going to synagogue with all of my favorite professors in Jackson. We barely had a minyan half the time. It was always lovely and I even got to carry the Torah scrolls a few times.

I remember meeting Dan while I was in graduate school and thinking early on that he was the man I'd marry. On our first date in October of 1999, we dined at Vincent's in NOLA and I didn't really eat. I was too nervous. I left my leftovers in his car by accident when he dropped me off. When he drove away, I left him a message on his answering machine at home telling him I enjoyed our date and thanking him for dinner. When he got home and heard the message he called his mom and played it for her. He thought it was cute.

I remember wanting to be a mom even when I was very young. I always knew it was something I wanted to do. I never dreamed it would be so difficult. People should realize that conceiving a child is akin to all the planets aligning; it's that complicated. Some people are just lucky, I guess. I wasn't one of them.

I remember lugging around my dog-eared copy of "Taking Charge of Your Fertility," along with charts of my cycles. I remember the doctor saying, "Honey, you're not having cycles. Honey, you're not even ovulating." I remember filling my Clomid prescription and starting it several months before we moved to KC. I remember getting my hopes up. I remember deluding myself and imagining what it would be like to get a positive pregnancy test.

I remember all the tests. I remember crying. I remember the phone call from the nurse that fall afternoon. She said, "The IUI failed. We need to move on to in vitro (IVF)." I remember being so caught off guard I couldn't really speak. I never thought I'd need IVF.

I remember filling about 12 prescriptions at the pharmacy. My new red sharps box. Needles--both large ones and small ones. A bottle of progesterone in oil. Pills, pills, and more pills. A schedule written out. I remember driving back and forth to that office every other day for months. Ultrasounds. Blood work. Procedures.

I remember the first mock embryo transfer, which was like practice for the IVF. My cervix wasn't cooperating and the doctor couldn't pass the catheter through, so she had to use a tenaculum to clamp it. I screamed and cried. And she yelled at me, "Get a hold of yourself! You're a grown woman!" That cut me to the core. If I hadn't wanted a baby so badly, I might have left right then and there.

I remember the first IVF failing. I was broken. But I wanted to get right back on the horse and do it again. I was determined.

I remember starting all over again. Not long after the shots began, I told Dan, "I can't go through this again. If this one fails, I want to talk about adoption." He nodded silently.

I remember on the day of the embryo transfer the doctor said both looked so good she was concerned we'd end up with twins. I cried tears of joy.

I remember 7 days later, I started bleeding. I called Dan at work to tell him. He could hardly speak. I remember I called the nurse and started crying so hard on the phone. She told me to come in the next morning for my blood test, even though it was still too early. I begged her because I needed to know it was over. I needed to have closure and begin to move on.

I remember it was an eternity until I went for that blood test. I remember waiting by the phone. I remember getting the call an hour after I got home. I remember Brandi saying, "Erin, you're pregnant!"

I remember extra shots of progesterone to stop the bleeding. I remember being scared it wouldn't stick.

I remember morning sickness setting in. My fear began to wane.

I remember going in for my 6-week ultrasound. I remember as soon as something was on the screen the nurse grinned from ear to ear and held up two fingers. "It's twins!" she yelled.

I remember Friday, December 9, 2005 like it was yesterday. The best day of my life. The day my daughters were born.