True Story

Another repost. I've decided to make this week all about the funny.

Also, those of you who complained about kissy face woman in my profile, please take note of my new profile pic. I hate pictures of myself so I can't say how long it will stay. Also the colors in the photo do not coordinate well with my template colors. I know, it's dumb, but it bugs me. Kissy face woman may be back by the end of the day.

Last night, I dreamt that all the diamonds in my wedding ring had fallen out. I was searching frantically, desperate to find them. I was completely panicked. I was absolutely sick with loss.

I don't often dream and when I do, they are usually gone the moment I awake. I am not one of those people who recount their dreams in great detail. But occasionally, I have dreams of such startling clarity that they never leave me. I can think of four such dreams. This one makes five. As dreams go, it wasn't all that terrifying or traumatic. But I woke up in complete and utter despair.

I have no idea what that symbolizes, but I'm sure it's yet another indication that I am perilously close to some kind of psychotic episode.

But it reminded me of a funny thing I hadn't thought of in years.

I always thought I would insist on selecting my own engagement and wedding rings, because I am incredibly picky discerning, and the thought of being stuck with something I hate my whole life was just too awful to contemplate.

But Husband surprised me by proposing to me after just six months. I hadn't even had time to daydream a dress yet.

Luckily, he has good taste, and my wedding set is truly beautiful. I cherish it not for it's earthly value, but because of the bond it represents. Husband has offered to replace the center stone with a larger one on several different anniversaries. But I don't want or need a larger one.

This is the one he slipped upon my trembling hand when I said yes, this is the one that will encircle my lifeless finger when I go to my grave. Unless some mercenary daughter in law sets her sights on it and convinces one of my sons to pry it from his mother's cold dead grasp. Bitch.

Anyway.

The setting is rather intricate and sits very high. I was and am constantly banging it against things; the faucet in the kitchen sink, the porcelain knobs on the cabinets, the steering wheel, glassware, my own flesh and bone and that of my children.

All of us bear somewhere upon our bodies, a scar where the wickedly sharp prongs have furrowed delicate flesh. It's a deadly weapon I'm telling you. I could put somebody's eye out.

Several times I whacked it hard enough to loosen the center stone to the point that it could have been easily dislodged and lost forever. The thought made me quite ill.

I did lose several of the smaller marquis side diamonds, and though not nearly as valuable as the center stone, they were still too expensive to replace on our single income. I hated the sight of those poor empty prongs. I made me sad and disspirited to look at them, so I put it away and took to wearing a wedding band in it's place.

Several years later on our anniversary Husband surprised me by having the missing stones replaced. I was thrilled and I couldn't stop looking at it. I had really missed it.

Two days later, I lost one of them again.

I was absolutely horrified and I cried when I told Husband.

There was nothing we could do, of course. I was pregnant at the time, and the ring was beginning to get too tight anyway. So I put it away again and tried not to think of the wasted expense.

Months went by, and my belly grew. Diminutive One was over 9lbs at birth and I had pre-eclampsia, which caused me to retain water like you would not believe. I'm short, and I am short waisted, so by the end, my stomach was truly something to behold. And it itched. A LOT. So I scratched it. A lot.

I was put on bedrest near the end of my pregnancy and spent a lot of time in my recliner. One day, while lying there trying to watch television over the mound of my stomach, I realized that my belly button was particularly itchy. My belly button is deeply inverted and it never even came close to popping out with my first pregnancy. But with that pregnancy, it was beginning to look like a distinct possibility.

I began to root around, trying to relieve the itch that had become a near constant thing by that point.

Suddenly, I realized that there was something embedded in my belly button. Something small and hard. I rooted around some more, trying to guess what in the world it could be. I couldn't grasp it with my swollen, clumsy fingers, so I heaved myself out of the chair, lumbered into the bathroom, and got the tweezers out of my nail kit. I lumbered back to the chair and commenced digging.

I kind of felt like the newest Milton Bradley game..."Pregnant Operation".

Even with the tweezers, it was difficult to get a good grip on whatever it was lodging in my belly button, and I stabbed myself repeatedly in an effort to extract it. Every time the tines bit into my tender flesh, I sort of expected my nose to light up and a buzzer to sound.

Was it a grain of rice? No. A fingernail? Ew, no. A stone? Yes, it felt like a stone. I finally managed to pull it out and saw that I was right. It was a stone.

But not just any stone....A DIAMOND.

Holy shit, the thing in my belly button was my missing diamond.

I surmised that my ring got snagged on my clothing when I extracted my hand from my pants after a particularly vigorous bout of scratching and fell into my capacious belly button.

When Husband came home, I held the diamond out gleefully for him to see. He was amazed that it had turned up after so long.

"Where on earth did you find it???" he asked.

"In my belly button."

"What?"

"My belly button."

"Shut up."

"I'm totally serious. I was scratching my belly, and then my belly button got itchy too, and when I stuck my finger in there to scratch it, I found the diamond!!"

He looked at me for a long time. He honestly had no idea if I was messing with him or not. On one hand, it was just ridiculous enough to be true. On the other hand, how could a diamond stay in my belly button for 9 months without being discovered or dislodged?

Finally, he said, "Well. It is really deep."

"I KNOW!"

"You know what would be really amazing?"

"What?"

"What if it's not the last one you lost? What if that's one of the original ones that got lost. That thing coulda been in there for years."

"No way."

"Seriously, geez. You could have the Hope Diamond in there. C'mere. No. No, no wait! We'll put a piece of coal in there and make another one!! That could work. The pressure has got to be enormous by now."

And that's when he realized that a grossly swollen pregnant woman only finds humor at her expense funny for a finite period of time.

And yes, Husband took my ring to the jeweler the next day and had the diamond reset. And we had all the diamonds reinforced with extra prongs. I haven't lost one since, which means that the belly button diamond is still in place.

So there you go. True Story.