Fifty, Fabulous, and Frenzied by Stacey Honowitz

 Since this is my first entry, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Stacey Honowitz, I am fifty, divorced (his doing, discussed later) supervising the sex crimes unit in the state attorneys office, and the mother of a 31/2year old whom I had at age 46.  So shocking, you might have thought I was  100, because  when walking me into the operating room I could see the nurses doing a double take while looking at my wristband. (shes really old).

As you can imagine my daughter was not  conceived from a night of great sex, but was helped along with invitro fertilization. I think a back story is always good so here goes mine  I was fixed up with my ex, by a friend who said, ” he’s fabulous, smart, generous and “just great”( what else would you expect, hes a loser without a job?) I said cut to the chase, would he have a baby if he already has 2 other kids”?  I was 42,  and if the dating was not going to amount to anything, why deprive myself of chocolate trying to fit into an outfit to impress? She said yes, and I said great.

Now we know that when first dating we are “ambassadors of ourselves’. We put all the good stuff on display, save the worst for when we are serious with someone. I met him, liked him, dated him, fell in love with him and married him. He had the “right stuff’. Lovey dovey. trips, jewelry, cards, the whole deal. We started the process, and our nights became talking about the shots, giving the shots, icing my backside from the shots, and keeping the dog from licking the shots. I Googled and re-Googled a million times “in vitro”. We had to do it a few times and finally the results, yes, you are pregnant! I didn’t let myself get crazy as I had miscarried before, and we only told our parents as  the reveal should not come until you are three months along. I could see that my over the top affectionate husband was acting very different. The always touchy, feely person soon began to distance himself, book business trips and shut down. He wasn’t over the top happy, never engaged in “yippee, we are having a baby conversation, nor did he try to capture my growing stomach on film. I had watched so many shows where the husband was building baby furniture and filming his wife’s every move, and mine was doing the opposite. Now, I did make a unilateral decision that I was’nt going to hang from a chandelier in a Victoria Secret getup during the pregnancy, as I did not want anything poking my private parts but my OBGYN. I was scared, as I had a perinatologist, a hematologist and Ob that were taking care of me. I made going to the bathroom a national holiday, as I would try to hold it in all day for fear of seeing something not good. Ever ytime I would go, examining the toilet paper became a full on investigation. I was a nervous wreck, all for good reason I thought based on my age and my history. I kept waiting for that “you are right, we shouldn’t take any chances by having sex” line, but it never came. I picked up all the signs, he was off somewhere else.

If you choose to have a baby alone there are no expectations of others being involved, but I think when you are married it just stinks when the other person is not an active participant. I think the idea of starting all over again made him think “what did I get myself into” I am a very intuitive person, and  I think because my job has me interviewing and cross examining people all day, I can get a feel for someone and their actions. I knew in my heart that he was not with me, and all I was waiting for was that ambassador to come back and get involved. Well, my pregnancy, while mentally, exhausting was  pretty good and I walked in for my c-section 31/2 years ago, and after the famous “you might feel some pressure” speech, they pulled her out. My neurotic  sex crimes prosecutor hat came right on, “did anyone touch her privates”? Unreal, there she is, my everything, right next to me, well you know in that “hold her next to my face, I’m strapped down” photo. The ambassador of bull is gone, but I even have to thank him for giving me her. So now you know the background, and later we will explore many things,  like the guilt of being a single, older parent, who it trying her best to raise a child.