Holy balls. I love Las Vegas! We left on Saturday morning at 5am, Louie drove the whole way, and we got there by 11. Perfection! We settled into our room at the Luxor (btw, not my favorite hotel, but cheap and that allowed us to stay longer than we had anticipated, so it worked out!) and headed up a floor to see Allison, Brit, Mikey and Day. They had been raging well into the morning hours the night before, so we all rallied a little and then headed to the pool. There was initially some issues with where we were going to spend our time, but thankfully we decided to stay at the Luxor and not go to the Hard Rock for the afternoon. Let’s just say I was grateful to be surrounded by kids and old people at the Luxor, instead of douche bags and strippers at the Hard Rock.
Now, I don’t drink… like, ever. So, I decided to have a few drinks to get through the lull of tiredness that was coming over me. We had so much fun! I love seeing Louie happy, and happy he was. He doesn’t get enough time with guys his age, and Mikey, Day and him got along great. I’m pretty sure that was the selling point of Vegas when I approached him. It was so nice seeing him smile, relax and laugh in the sunshine with some really fabulous people. It also helped that I was riding a pretty heavy buzz that made me feel like I was on a magical island where everyone was smiling and no one cared that I had cellulite.
We all tried to go upstairs and take naps, but the only one who managed to sleep was Louie. He fell asleep sitting up, with the remote in his hand. He slept for a solid 4 hours, while everyone else tossed and turned. I don’t know how he does it, but I think I can speak for everyone when I say that I’m jealous. While I sat, wide awake, taking pictures of myself, he slept like a freaking baby.
We got ready and headed to LAX, which was a fucking shit show. I mean, it was right up everyone else’s ally, except Louie and I. The line was long, the music was loud, it was just too much stimulation for my brain. So I doused it with some serious alcohol and then it got fun. We danced and laughed for a while, I got a little handsy with just about everyone, and then I knew we needed to leave. Why? Because, as a married adult, I’ve been around the block. Back in 2005, I would have drank until my shoes fell off and partied until the next afternoon, but I also would have tried to divorce Louie and make out with everyone else. So, even though I was drunk, I managed to get out of there in the nick of time. Right after we left there was some dramaz, so I can’t help but think I’m a psychic… or maybe I’m growing up and realizing that partying hard is best left to the people who can afford to let havoc take the reins and rage the way you’re supposed to, good and hard….
That was pretty much the end of our time with the fab 4, they left the next morning. We got to say goodbye to them as they were wandering the hotel at like 5am and we were still sitting at the black jack table. Which cues my introduction to how we won 700$. We spent countless hours at different tables, winning and losing and just having a good time. Louie was worried at one point that I was bored, but honestly I was intrigued. Black jack is my new favorite game! Little did I know that my Ga (my mom’s mom) used to run off to Vegas for the weekend to play black jack, every day I find out I am more and more like her, and it makes me incredibly happy. Over the course of three nights we played hours and hours of black jack and random slot machines, we wandered the strip from hotel to hotel and we just spent time together. Alone. Happy. It was just what we needed.
Until I saw it. The little onesie that said “Made in Las Vegas” and it just turned my mood upside down. I couldn’t help but think about the fact that I’d be 16 weeks pregnant, that I could buy that little outfit and put it on my newborn baby in December. I felt so empty, so alone, so angry. I couldn’t stand it. Louie just hugged me as we stood on the moving walkway. Life was moving around us, the world was turning, my friends were getting pregnant… and we were standing still, unchanging, not putting one foot in front of the other, but still, everything was moving… It didn’t feel fair, it still doesn’t. The only solace I feel is in the arms of my husband. Knowing that he loves me, even though I can’t seem to do the one thing that women were biologically made to do, makes me feel 1% less sad. Which feels like a 100% when the tears won’t stop welling up and falling. It ought to feel like rain… but that’s too cleansing. I love the rain. It feels like a dust storm. Cloudy and hot, without any forgiveness, just overwhelming anger and unavoidable dry heat that fills my lungs and clouds my vision. I’m just glad I have him to anchor me down. I’d probably let myself float away into the sun if he wasn’t holding onto one hand, begging me not to go. I am grateful for him, I am grateful he is willing to weather this dust storm with me. No matter how badly I want to give up, I know that when I finally get to see our baby, it will have all been worth it.
For now, I’m just trying to get through each day without totally losing it. I have a doula client due soon, my first one in months. I feel so connected to her. We’ve known each other since 2007, and she’s been through so much to get where she is. I was afraid I would feel angry and jealous, like I do when anyone else tries to talk to me about their pregnancy, but I didn’t. I was so happy for her. The moment I saw her and her husband I could feel their happiness in my heart, something I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling. I know that I’m not ready to go back to taking clients every month, but I know that these two (three!) people were meant to be in my life.
So, here come the next few months! It’s felt like the calm before the storm, so I’m prepping for the next phase of life, I’m ready for anything. I’ve got an arsenal of coping mechanisms, the best friends in the world, a husband that gets me and a dog that cures any sadness. I’m ready.