Chapter 27 – [March 1, 2002]
Off work early on that Friday afternoon, Sally decided to let Jen continue the afternoon in childcare while her other girls were still in school. She had planned a coffee date with her newfound, old-time friend Jo Miller. The two hadn’t spent a great deal of time together since Bob Miller had returned home from alcohol dependency treatment – the Miller’s had been appropriately focusing most of their energy on their marriage and family life.
According to Jo, things were going well. Unbelievably well in fact. Bob was apparently like a new man – able to handle the stress of life in whole new ways. “Emotionally present” was the term Jo had used; in ways she had never witnessed their entire marriage. Bob had come alive.
As the two women sat in a nicely updated independent Freemont coffee shop near the waters of Lake Union, Sally twisted her hot cup of Chai Tea as she looked at her friend sucking down a draw of decadent Mocha. Jo had just asked Sally if Jordan’s bedwetting had been subsiding at all or if the urologist appointments had determined a more definite cause.
Sally had thought to herself earlier that morning on the way to the café, the oddness of the dynamic that had developed between she and her friend. It’s so weird that Jo’s kinda become my de facto counselor now.
On the one hand, Sally was four years older than Jo. On the other, back when the two were pregnant together with Jordan and Alex, Jo had been terrified about what was going to happen with her life. She and Bob weren’t married yet, he wasn’t a Christian even, and she and everyone else assumed that she had been the little side fling for the big-shot residency fellow. A dozen years ago many people in the church, including Sally, regarded Jo as their little ‘charity project’. In fact, many continued to think of her that way despite the reality that Jo had become a powerhouse of a woman with a high degree of emotional intelligence, wit, willpower, and courage.
After winning Bob’s hand in marriage shortly after Alex’s birth, she was ‘won’ to the church, and she then tenaciously pursued personal and spiritual growth through therapy, books, conferences and retreats over the subsequent years. She hadn’t been formally educated but she was wise beyond her 31 years.
I’m supposed to be the one who’s got it all together, Sally had thought, I’m the churchgoing missionary’s wife. I’m supposed to be the perfect stay-at-home mother of three with the perfect highlighted hair and clean house. I’m the one who’s husband is the big “homeless shelter guru” that everyone looks up to. I’m the one who’s supposed to have it all together. But really – Jo’s got way more figured out than me.
Sally had dark pouches clinging to her lower eyelids, making her long sleepless nights obvious to the public. Her black hair was pulled tightly back in a messy business bun and the blouse under her suit had been loosened. She leaned over her warm mug and breathed in its aroma.
“So he really doesn’t think he should have to contribute any child support to the girls? I don’t understand Sally. That seems like such a normal and benign request.” Jo had been saying.
“No. No. No. He seemed to be ok with the concept in principle. Like, he said that he didn’t want to be a ‘dead beat dad’ and everything. It was just specifically asking for him to pay the school bill that seemed to set him off.” She twisted her cup in her hand as Jo took a sip of her coffee. “He was being so nice too. Like when he had spoken, he was saying how he wanted me to keep the house and how he wanted the girls to be as stable as possible. I was shocked when he flew off the handle like that…I probably should’ve thought it through more before I said it. But honestly, It seems so basic now that I’m not surprised I just blurted it out…”
“Maybe he was trying to butter you up in the beginning…maybe he thought he could pull the wool over your eyes by saying you could have the house and being so sweet about the girls – that he could get off with the minimal financial commitment?” Jo said, as she looked her friend in the eyes.
“Yeah I guess so. But what kind of idiot does he take me for? I mean, I’ve never been the kind of woman to just close my eyes and ignore something as important as finances our entire marriage!”
“Maybe it was her plan and not his?” Jo raised her eyebrows with the suggestion.
“That honestly had crossed my mind Jo. It sounded more like her than it did him.” She twisted her cup on the tips of her long fingers some more as she thought. “I mean, the voice and the delivery and the tactical part of it was him. But the strategy? It made no sense.”
Jo nodded.
“The rage was his though. That’s classic Ted. Did I ever tell you about the time when he almost wrecked the van after running out with it one night after we had an argument about him staying late at work 3 nights in a row?”
Jo shook her head, mouth full of coffee.
“He had probably been spending those nights with that red-haired bimbo.” She seethed looking down at her tea and then outside the coffee shop window.
“So what do you think he’s got up his sleeves? You think that was just an empty threat – all that stuff you said he yelled at you?” When they had first started talking about the divorce, Sally had begun crying and recounted Ted’s bout of rage without much of the background.
“I honestly don’t know. I wouldn’t put it past him but I can’t really imagine what… He’s scary though. That’s for sure. Especially thinking that Melissa is helping him plan whatever it is that he’s got cooking.”
“Well. You’re a great mom and you have amazing support from your community. It’s he that chose this Sally and we will be with you through it. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. Even if you end up needing help – like with your lawyer or childcare or whatever – I already talked to Bob and we’re in agreement that we want to take care of it.” Both women began to tear up. “Do you hear me? We’ll take care of it. We have it to spend.”
Thankful to have such a gracious and humble teacher in her life, Sally, cried more in earnest and Jo reached across to grab her hand. The two sat in silence at the small Freemont coffee shop for a while before Jo asked her about Jordan and her bedwetting problem.
“Well, actually it still hasn’t subsided at all. If anything it maybe even is getting worse. The other night after she found out she won that writing competition thing, she woke up after having a nightmare and had leaked clear through the diaper and all over her bed like she used to before she was even wearing anything at all.”
Jo was silent but nodded.
Thinking about the advice of the urologist to have Jordan checked out by a psychologist, Sally said, “It first started way back on the night of 9/11. She was so stressed and scared and Ted was nowhere to be found. It completely terrified her. And it’s gone on almost every single night since without letup.”
Jo looked at her with concerned surprise. “Wow Sally, this seems like a pretty significant problem. In all the rush of babysitting and everything, I hadn’t realized how long it had been going on.”
“Yeah. And the urologist we saw after her infection really didn’t seem to find much wrong with her either. I mean, he says that her bladder volume isn’t up to par – and that she needs to retrain it; stretch it to increase its size.” Sally flipped her hand in the air dismissively, demonstrating the level of respect she had for the man. “But other than that, there’s not a lot he can do apparently. There is some medication that sounds mildly effective – but that has quite a few side effects that might almost be as bad. He suggested taking her to a shrink.”
Noticing Sally’s seeming frustration or disrespect for the doctor, Jo responded carefully. “Well, it sounds like you yourself think that maybe there’s a psychological factor in this Sally. Perhaps letting Jordan see someone would be helpful? I can tell you, I wouldn’t have been able to make it through Bob’s alcoholism without support from therapists.”
Sally looked up, surprised that her friend thought a psychologist was actually a realistic possibility, “Yeah, maybe I guess.”
Sensing that flow of conversation wasn’t going anywhere, Jo dropped it and said, “So diapers continue to be the stopgap then, huh?” She took another draw on her Mocha.
Sally pepped back up, “Well that might’ve been the weirdest part of the whole appointment with the guy. It was really strange…” She paused, “But first, I have to tell you a little background…Jordan got her first period back in in November…”
Jo’s brown eyes lit up a little bit almost as if she was as jealous as Alex was of Jordan’s ‘good’ fortune.
Sally continued “…and so shortly after that, I took her in to see Dr. Yepp my OB/GYN for her first consult and to get his opinion on the bedwetting. Anyways, he was the first doctor who suggested that diapers would be a good solution for managing her problem – to keep the bed dry and whatever.”
Jo nodded and smiled slightly.
“That made sense to me. I mean we’ve used pull-ups for years with Mindi. She’s 6 and is just now starting to have consistent dry nights!”
Jo didn’t react but was clearly making eye contact and listening.
“Well anyways, this week, however many weeks after seeing Dr. Yepp (even a second time), we go in to see this Roto Rooter doctor guy and he bites my head off for having Jordie wear a diaper at night. I mean, I thought he was a like, a ‘diaper doctor’? Isn’t that what urologists give out to people and stuff? It was like he was allergic to the thought of her wearing one.”
“Hmmm.” Jo said in tacit agreement.
“Do you think it’s weird that she’s wearing diapers Jo? Is it wrong? I mean, it’s not like I’m forcing her or anything!”
The mother of three sounded quite defensive and actually had begun to turn red along her neckline and cheekbones as she told the story.
Thinking for a moment, Jo paused before she responded. “You know Sally, It did strike me as a little peculiar at first when you called me and asked for help. I mean I’d expect a teenager with a bedwetting problem (it’s relatively common you know) to just wear one of those big kid pull-up things; ‘good-nights’ or whatever they’re called. And that’s only if a kid her age would be willing to put on anything like that at all!”
Sally nodded gravely, calming slightly.
“But like you said, you guys tried those and she was leaking very badly with them and she was willing to try something else. So you did. Makes sense. It didn’t seem coerced or painful for her to have to wear them other than the expected levels of embarrassment any teenager might have. I think you need to relax and ignore his quibbles. Doctors have lots of pressure on them but they mean well and they’re very smart. You’re doing the very best you can – and from my perspective that’s pretty damn good!”
Even more calm, Sally nodded and finally said, “Thanks Jo – You’re really amazing.”
“You’re welcome Sally.”
The two friends raised their near empty mugs in a toast and continued the meandering conversation in different directions as the afternoon wore into evening.
At school that day, Jordan had tried to follow doctor rooter’s (or whatever his name was) orders about stretching her bladder by waiting as long as possible in between bathroom trips. It had been difficult. Typically, she would’ve gone to the ladies’ room for a break in between every class because if she didn’t, by the middle of the second class she would be desperate. She had begun to feel a little conflict about her bedwetting and diapers after her appointment. Although she had grown in her appreciation of the nightly moments with her Mom, she also had seen her Mom’s growing stress level around the house.
What if I really can fix this? Maybe it would be for the better?
That morning however, she decided to forgo the bathroom stop in between History and English and by the time she got half way through English, beads of sweat had begun to build up on her forehead and she had begun to squirm in her seat. It had been terribly painful and although she made it to the end without a leak, she had had to race past Mr. Johns fully ignoring him as he had beckoned her to stop and discuss the details of their upcoming trip the Washington D.C.
When she had come back, he was in his break period and he had assumed her haste was for the reason it actually was (sans the urologist, bedwetting, bladder retraining, and everything else) and he didn’t mention it.
“Jordan, welcome back!” He smiled. “I wanted to talk with you for a minute about our trip. Are you excited? It’s only a month away!”
She had smiled brightly. “YES! I’m so excited!”
“Now, the main thing we need to talk about right now is who you’re gonna bring. I’m coming of course and I’m gonna pay for Mrs. Johns to join me (she grew up in this little hick town in Oregon and has never been to D.C. before, believe it or not). But NPR will pay for you to choose one additional chaperone to bring along. That could be your mom…” he hesitated for a moment, “…you dad if you want…a grandparent or some other family member. Whoever you’d like.”
Jordan had nodded, her smile not quite as bright.
“But I need to know right away – like in the next week or so because we need to get tickets purchased and stuff.” He looked at her asking silently for a commitment.
“Ok Mr. Johns. Sure. I’ll be sure to figure it out soon. Maybe by Monday or something.” She had said.
He had continued, “On the trip, we’ll do some sightseeing around the city. Visit the major attractions. We’ll tour the studio and go to a special award ceremony and dinner. You’ll get to meet Natalie Portman, the actress who’s going to be recording your story for the radio. You know who that is right?”
“Of course! She’s in the new Star Wars movies. The next one is coming out next month!” Jordan had said excitedly.
“Yep.” Mr. Johns had smiled. “We’ll probably fit in some shopping and of course there’ll be good food. The hotel will no doubt have a swimming pool so be sure to bring your suit!”
The mention of the hotel had led Jordan to think about the accommodations.
“Oh cool!” Trying to ask her question as delicately as possible she said, “So will we all be sharing a room or will we have a couple?” Pausing she added, “Because if I bring my Dad or something I might wanna bring my sleeping bag cuz he snores pretty loud and I don’t wanna sleep next to him!” She had laughed loudly and quite fake sounding.
Mr. Johns had joined politely. “Oh no of course not. You and your chaperone will get your own room with two beds if you want and my wife and I will share our own room as well. Not to worry about having to share a bed.”
He had smiled and she had smiled back.
“OK great! Thanks Mr. Johns!” She had said and bounded off down the hall.
For the rest of the day, the seventh grader that stood head and shoulders above quite a few of the high school kids had decided not to try as hard to retrain her bladder as before. She had reasoned to herself, I really DO NOT want an accident during the day at school. That would make ME incredibly stressed. At night is one thing. But that would be the most horrific thing ever. And furthermore, maybe my wetting and stuff is one of the things that’s helping mom be so nice in the first place? What if I stop and then it actually causes mom to be sweet? What if I lose my diapers? What will happen to me?
She mixed her mind up until it was in knots about theories and cause and effect. Regardless, she could sense a dilemma approaching.
Later that night, after everyone but Sally and Jordan was in bed in the ranch style home on 22nd avenue, Jordan tiptoed to her mom’s room wearing just a t-shirt and her night diaper. She had become increasingly comfortable wearing them around the house since she had been wearing them so often in the afternoons.
Sally had heard her coming and put her book down before the door creaked open. The girl looked like an overgrown version of Jen in her getup. Plopping on the foot of the bed, stomach down, knees bent, and feet in the air, the teenage girl looked pretty comfortable in her infantile attire.
“What’s up honey?” Sally asked knowing something was amiss.
“Well – are you gonna be able to come with me to Washington D.C. during spring break?”
Sally knew this question was overdue and had been expecting it. The trip was to take place during spring break and she there was no possible way she could take time off work so early on in a new job – and two weeks before April 15 no less!
Her face fell. “I’m really sorry hone—”
“I knew it!” Jordan interrupted and began to cry.
Sally stiffened at first, feeling defensive at first, almost ready to fight. “Jordan…”, she began before catching herself and thinking better of it. She then shifted positions and crawled to a place where she could rub and scratch her daughter’s back through her soft cotton shirt.
“Jordan, I’m really really sorry sweetie. But I’ve got this new job now as a CPA and they won’t let me off work for anything. I’m really sorry sweetie.” She continued to scratch. “And it’ll be tax time which is the busiest time of the year. No one gets vacation time then. No one even gets sick time then. Even if I have bad cramps or diarrhea or I was bleeding my brains out I’d still have to go to work.” She was trying to be a little cute and cracked a grin. But for Jordan, it wasn’t funny.
The diapered adolescent popped her head up and exclaimed, “Mooomma! What am I gonna do? I don’t want daddy to go! He probably wouldn’t go anyways. He’s so selfish.”
“Jordan don’t talk about your father that way.” She said firmly. “He loves you very much and I’m sure he’d love to go. He’s made some mistakes and we will need to forgive him. I think we should ask him if he’d like to go.” Sally had an extremely difficult time choking it out but she wanted to be a good example and a good mother for her daughter. She didn’t want her own drama and (honestly) hatred of Ted get in the way of Jordan growing up healthy and she knew it had been bleeding over during the past several weeks.
Sally felt Jordan’s back tense up as her own tension rose.
Jordan said, “I’ll stay home if he goes,” her face planted back in the pillow.
The mother of 3 knew she wouldn’t get far trying to cajole her adolescent daughter out of that particular position – and she didn’t blame her in truth.
“Ok, Ok, Ok. How about this? How about I call Mr. Johns tomorrow and talk to him about it and see if there are any alternative options for the trip ok?”
A long silence ensued as the girl’s muscles became slightly more pliable under Sally’s motherly massage.
Jordan was thinking about her diapers and about how, although she trusted her mom implicitly, she had been the one to tell most of the people about her bedwetting who now knew. She worried that between her Mom and Mr. Johns, the two might come up with some sponsor that didn’t even know her and that person would be in charge of her diapers and then the word would get out all over school.
Somehow by a kind of mother-magic-psychic abilities, Sally was able to read this in her daughter’s mind. “Listen Jordan, I promise I won’t tell your teacher or anyone else about your bedwetting without your permission ok? You don’t have to be stressed. We’ll figure out a solution you can live with. Together. I want you to be able to go on this trip and have a great time. I’m not gonna wreck it for you. Ok?”
Jordan rolled over on her back, exposing her bellybutton. Sally couldn’t help but think that Jordan looked just like she had when she was 3 with her head resting on her thigh and looking up with her big hazel eyes. She looked content and peaceful.
But inside, Jordan felt afraid. Is dad gonna have to go in the end? Will he have to CHANGE ME? Will he insist on bringing Melissa? What if I refuse? What if some stranger goes instead? What if Mrs. Miller could come along? Could I go with just the Johns’ alone? How awkward would that be!
The girl’s mind didn’t quit churning even after her mom had led her by the hand back to her own bedroom or after she had crawled under her covers.
Funny – I won the stupid competition and I feel more stressed out now than I did before! She thought as she finally dozed off to sleep.