Wednesday, February 24, 2016


Benjamín Joseph Cruz came into this crazy world on January 23rd, 2016 at 8:17 am weighing 7 lbs 1 oz. He was breech and I delivered in El Paso via repeat cesarean section which Raymundo was able to witness via Facetime from our home in Juárez.

I hadn't planned for him to be able to watch, as the hospital policy stated that they only allowed still photography in the OR. I assumed Facetime or Skype would be out of the question. After I was already on the operating table, my sister asked the nurse if we could video in my husband from Juárez and they said that would be fine! It meant the world to me that he was able to see everything. I wish he could have been there to comfort me while I was shaking uncontrollably during the 3 attempts to get my epidural in, but you can't have it all, right?

My sister held the phone out towards me in the OR as Ray watched on with tears in his eyes. Now as grateful as I was that he was able to watch, it's still rough to see your wife on an operating table like that and feel so helpless and so far away. We're usually the types to accept the hand we were dealt in the way of our whole immigration situation, but in that moment it all felt pretty unfair.

After he was born, nurses whisked him off to be assessed due to low oxygen and glucose levels. My sister followed with the phone as Ray continued to look on, completely freaked out. At some point the nurse that was attending to Ben took the phone and talked to Raymundo, explaining exactly what was happening to our baby... in Spanish... via Facetime.

I still can't get over that. Bless that nurse.

For the next two days Ray and I continued to communicate via phone while Ben and I were in the hospital recovering. I had a horrible experience with my first cesarean so I had a lot of anxiety about my recovery. Luckily, my sister stayed on with me at the hospital full time while my mom and older son traveled back and forth from Juárez.

It was amazing to have my family there with me. Not just at the hospital, but for my sister and son to see where I live for the first time, and for my mom to make her 2nd trip, was really cool. I didn't envision my son visiting Juárez until he was much older, so their trip was a wonderful surprise. Honestly I have no words to do my feelings justice... I seriously do not know what I would have done without them here. Not a clue.

In the nearly 13 years it's been since my oldest was born, I had forgotten what it was like to care for a newborn. Sure, I knew I would be sleep deprived, I knew I would feel a bit weepy, I knew his schedule would take some getting used to, I knew it would be love at first sight. But knowing all those things, even from personal experience, didn't prepare me to experience them again. Knowing the date of my c-section and exactly what I could expect at the hospital didn't prepare me. Nothing can prepare you for motherhood I guess.

I learned a new word in Spanish during Ben's first days in this world as I tried to explain emotions to my husband. Abrumado. Overwhelmed.

I think my low point involved retreating to the laundry room and crying quietly (or so I thought) in the dark alone. My sister came in after me to see if I was okay and jokingly asked what I was doing in the dark and if I was "feeling my fundus." The nurses in the hospital kept telling me to massage my fundus and I swear to God I still don't know how to tell where my damned fundus is. Nor do I have the energy to Google it as Ben will be up any moment and my Googling is limited these days. Anyway the important thing is that she made me laugh in that moment of desperation, as only a sister can do, and I knew that somehow things were going to be okay.

And things really are okay. They're actually amazing. After a couple of weeks my baby blues subsided and everything started to feel a bit more normal. Ray has taken to fatherhood like a fish to water and that has been a remarkable thing to watch. His love for our son is such a beautiful thing to see and it only makes me fall for him again and again.

My recovery from the surgery has literally been night and day compared to my first cesarean so all of my anxiety was unnecessary. I made sure to get up and walk as soon as I was allowed and took special care to wear an abdominal binder which I feel made all the difference in the world.

We've had some bumps in the road with breastfeeding because Ben was born with a tongue-tie but we are taking things one day at a time. His tie was revised but we continue to have issues latching so in the meantime I am exclusively pumping. It's a stressful and time consuming process but I feel so blessed and proud to be able to get Ben my milk, in whatever manner that may be.

He's doing great and just celebrated one month in this world as of yesterday! As I shared on Instagram, right now he is really into looking out the window, white noise, being propped up, foot massages, car rides and the Lollipop song. He dislikes silence, diaper changes, wearing socks and idling on the bridge to the US! He is already bursting with personality and we are so excited to watch this little man grow up.

Even though I dreamed about it and prayed for it, I didn't ever expect to get a second chance at being a mom. And now that it's here, I couldn't feel happier or more humbled than I am right in this moment. We are so incredibly blessed.

Monday, January 18, 2016

Tales From the Bridge IV

Warning: Rant ahead.

I don't know what it is about me that attracts assholes on the bridge, but where ever I go they seem to follow. I feel like I follow the unwritten rules of crossing. I keep to myself, I don't make eye contact, I don't cut in front of other people, I cross in the appropriate lanes, I don't leave massive amounts of space between my car and the one in front of me, I pay attention.

So why, dear Lord please tell me why, do I even have the occasion to run into so many lunatics while I'm waiting in line? I just want to go to work and then go home as expeditiously as possible and with little to no drama, por favor. Is that so much to ask?

Today's tale starts as I'm on the freeway driving towards the bridge. There is a truck of some sort behind me, riding my ass, even though I am going 50 mph on an exit ramp with a speed limit of 40. At this point, the truck can't pass me, but I'm not comfortable going any more above the speed limit than I already am and risk getting into an accident.

Once we get to where the lines for the bridge begin, I change lanes as soon as possible to let Speed Racer pass me because he is clearly in a hurry. He passes me of course and is now in line in front of me. At this point he rolls his window down and is glaring at me in his side mirror but I do my best to ignore him. I grab my phone and start checking emails. 

Speed Racer continues to glare.

As soon as we pass the US check point portion of the line, he rolls down the rear window of his truck and begins to take pictures of me. Oh God. Here we go with the pictures again... I'm more uncomfortable with this situation than I was with that crazy girl last year because #1 he is a man, #2 he seems genuinely angry with me and I'm not sure why and #3 I am literally about to pop and have some serious mother-bear syndrome going on. I try to call my husband to see what I should do. No answer. I carry on driving, not looking up, and trying not to cry at this point because this man is seriously starting to freak me out.

Once we pass the Aduana he pulls off to the side as if to let me pass and rolls down his window. There is no way in hell that I was going to get in front of this man so I stop my car next to his, roll down my window, and try to grow some balls as I say, "¿Tenemos una problema?"

The man goes on to tell me that I should drive ahead of him. I tell him, in Spanish, that I am not comfortable going ahead of him. I tell him I am not comfortable with his behavior or his picture taking, and that I would just sit there until he drove on. He quickly responds in English that he knows I took pictures of him and that, "if I want to play, we can play." He is also seemingly offended that I've spoken to him in Spanish... you know, in Mexico, but I guess I can never win when it comes to that? Finally he mumbles out some threat about wanting to wait for the police.

Please. I want to say, please call the police. Please call them so that you can explain why you are harassing a pregnant lady who you felt was driving too slow even though she was going over the speed limit. I'm sure they would love that.

I don't say that though. You see I am having a baby in a matter of days and it just so happens that I left work early today with a bit of a blood pressure scare. My last 3 readings have been relatively high so we are on the lookout for any and all signs of preeclampsia. I went to the doctor after experiencing a headache that I couldn't seem to shake and had actually just left their office with orders to take it easy, relax and try not to stress out.

So no, you dumb motherfucker, I don't want to play games. And I'm tempted to tell him just like that. But  instead I simply tell him that I didn't take any pictures, that he clearly lowered his window and took pictures of me and that I don't "want to play." I tell him I am tired and just want to go home.

He eventually speeds off and turns down the same street I would normally turn down. I take the long way home instead and try to stay calm. The drive home consisted of me trying not to cry (unsuccessfully) and staring out my rear view mirror the entire way to ensure I wasn't being followed.

I honestly love living in Juárez but let me tell you, the line can just really suck it out of me sometimes. And I don't think I will ever understand why people act like that. Why make a shitty situation even shittier? Why go out of your way to cut people off and be rude and make someone feel uncomfortable just so you can be one car in front of that person in a fucking line? Is getting where ever you're going 30 seconds faster really worth putting that karma out into the world?

Now instead of staying relaxed as my doctor suggested, I'm likely going to spend my evening praying that this guy's just a douche bag who might share my picture on Facebook with his friends and not actually a legit psychopath plotting my early demise.

Thanks for nothing dude.

Friday, December 25, 2015

Christmas in Parral

At some point over the years we had fallen into a Christmas routine that blended both of our family's traditions. We would stay up late on Christmas Eve and drink and eat tamales and listen to music and then have a movie marathon on Christmas Day followed my idea of a traditional ham dinner with all the fixings.

We would always call his family shortly after midnight on Christmas Eve and the phone would be passed around from person to person as they wished each other a Feliz Navidad. And inevitably the phone call would end with Ray feeling homesick and nostalgic. He isn't a man of many words though so we never talked too much about it and I never really understood why he would get so sad. I don't come from a small family really but we are pretty spread out geographically and I've lived far enough away for long enough that I don't have many holiday memories of everyone together.

Last year, after being with my husband for nearly 10 years, I finally got to visit his hometown of Hidalgo del Parral, Chihuahua. I met his entire family for the first time and got to see what all the fuss was about with this town he lovingly refers to as Parralito. I still don't know why they call it "el capital del mundo," but it turned out to be a trip of bucket list proportions. For those of you who follow me on Facebook, you did get to see some pictures and commentary of the trip as it happened and you might remember that we had a bit of a rough time getting there to begin with. As it turns out, holiday bus schedules in Mexico aren't as reliable as the flight schedules in the US are. We were told we couldn't even buy tickets for December 24th until the day-of because a lot of times the drivers don't show up for work on Christmas Eve so they have to cancel trips entirely.

Needless to say there was quite a bit of uncertainty as we got our tickets but once we had them in hand the rest was gravy. We traveled via Chihuahuenses Select and I absolutely loved it. When you got on the bus they gave you a little bag with a pillow, headphones, a sandwich, chips and a pop. Each reclining seat had leg rests and it's own touch screen TV where you could choose from a variety of movie and music channels to occupy yourself during the trip. I was exhausted because packing, planning and a last minute midnight trip to the ATM in El Paso meant I hadn't slept the night before but between the beautiful scenery and my little touch screen I didn't get a wink of sleep on the 9 hour bus ride.

We arrived in Parral in the late afternoon and his family was more welcoming and accepting than I could have ever hoped for. Aside from one of his brothers that had lived in Mesa when we met, I had only met my mother in law and his youngest brother when they came to Juárez days after our move to Mexico. That visit was overshadowed by the stress of my initial adjustment to life South of the border though. I didn't have time to really appreciate our time together because I was so caught up with trying to find a job and a home that I could barely see straight. This time together was completely different. Special.

Ray (center) with his parents and siblings

We freshened up from our trip and then one by one family members started to arrive. Everyone seemed to have a hand in helping my mother in law to prepare the food, which was tamales and a rice with rajas de chile, corn and crema. They talked and laughed and listened to music while they cooked and it was all so overwhelmingly comforting to me. I instantly felt like I had known them my entire life and oddly enough, I felt at home. I went into the trip assuming I'd feel uncomfortable because I'm kind of a set-in-my-ways type of gal, but that couldn't have been further from the truth.

As the night progressed I saw more and more new faces, each one just as welcoming as the last. I met sisters and cousins and aunts and uncles and friends and friends of friends. I was amazed at how many people you could fit in the humble one bedroom home that my husband grew up in but as he had always told me, space was never an issue. We all danced and sang karaoke and played card games and No Te Enchiles and laughed and laughed and laughed. I honestly don't think I have ever had so much fun in my entire life. 

Ray playing 100 Mexicanos Dijeron (Family Feud) with his nieces and nephews

When midnight rolled around, everyone began to hug and kiss each other, one by one. I had never seen or even heard of such a holiday tradition and as I sat back and watched it all before me, the tears began to flow. There was so much love in that room. I really don't know what to say to describe it but it was just the most amazing, heart-warming thing I think I have ever experienced. 

My suegros

We saw a lot of things that week in Parral. La Mina Prieta, the site where Pancho Villa was killed, La Puerta del Tiempo, El Palacio Alvarado... Those things were all cool, but nothing could top that moment of los abrazos de La Noche Buena for me. It made my entire trip.

Iglesia San Jose in downtown Parral

Artwork on the walls of the Centro de Documentación

El Palacio Alvarado

My cuñado Javier and I on a tour of La Mina Prieta

La Puerta del Tiempo

Statue of Sr San Jose at the top of La Mina Prieta

Obviously I wanted to blog about this a year ago but I guess life got in the way. That happens sometimes. We reluctantly decided not to go to Parral this year because I'm saving our money and vacation days for maternity leave. I'm really too far along to be traveling at this point anyway so we were back to our old tradition yesterday with the late-night family phone call. We had so much fun at dinner last night with our friends here in Juárez but for some reason as the phone was passed around at midnight, I found myself feeling that same sadness that Ray has always felt each year. That feeling I had never understood before... I finally get it. I found myself wishing we were in Parral dando los abrazos and celebrating with his whole family. It's a bummer that we missed out on the fun this year pero ni modo.

Next year it's on. And with our newest family member in tow!

Sunday, December 13, 2015

Baby Talk

I always had a plan in mind for how I wanted things to go if we were ever blessed with another child and each day God looks down at me and chuckles as he finds a way to humbly remind me that I don't get to plan anything in life.

I was going to have my dream VBAC no matter what doctors tried to pressure me into. But guess what? Baby Cruz will be gracing the world with his presence at the end of January via repeat c-section.

I was going to set up a strict savings plan to prepare for maternity leave by putting 100% of my husband's earnings in a savings account and eliminating eating out completely. But guess what? Ray broke his finger on the job in July and has been out of work ever since and I have an insatiable craving for Taco Bell at least twice week.

I was going to be a bad ass and give birth in Mexico to save my husband the experience of seeing his son for the first time via Facetime. But guess what? The birth would cost about the same in Juárez without insurance as it will in El Paso after insurance but in Mexico payment is expected in full before you leave the hospital with your new bundle of joy. Oh, and let's be honest; I am scared shitless to have a major surgery South of the border.

So life doesn't always work out like I plan it. What's new, right? Despite my seemingly constant complaints, this pregnancy has gone relatively well. I haven't gained any weight yet, which is perfectly normal for a plus size pregnant person and baby's growth has been right on track. I do have some issues with hypertension which have been controlled by medication so far. Oh and a little nighttime carpal tunnel and acid reflux but who's keeping track, right? Little Ben moves constantly, maybe 10 times as much as my first born, so I already have a feeling he's going to be a little spitfire. The nurses have referred to him as un vago on multiple occasions as he wiggles around while they try to chase down his heartbeat at my regular OB visits.

His room is finally ready to go, and I think he is one lucky boy. We have been blessed beyond belief by my girlfriends who have not only been insanely generous with their baby's hand-me-downs but they also threw me an awesome baby shower a couple of weeks ago at Las Malas Companias. Thanks to them Ben is all set up with a crib, stroller, play yard and car seat and his dresser is stuffed full of clothes! Between their generosity and the few trips I've made to Goodwill and Once Upon A Child, this boy is set.

To be honest, I'm actually pretty proud of his nursery set up. I'm not much of a decorator but I think I did pretty well. We found a dresser at one of the tianguis by our house for only $20 and were able to paint it to match the crib my friend Annalisa gave us. Then I got a little inspiration from a nursery I saw on Pinterest and went from there. I had Ray paint an old bookcase and table lime green and then I made some curtains to tie everything together and voilà!


Aside from a few last minute items, I think we are pretty much ready for little Benjamín's arrival. There are still some logistics that need to be worked out when it comes to his health insurance but that won't be able to be arranged until he is born. We can't afford to add him to my policy at work (which would cost nearly $400 USD a month) and do not qualify for Medicaid or CHIP because we live outside of the US, so we are opting to purchase his insurance from a provider in Mexico once his Mexican birth certificate is issued. I'm pretty nervous about that whole process but am trying to have faith that it will all work out the way it's supposed to.

Sort of the same faith I'm trying to have about Ray becoming a stay at home dad. That's been the hypothetical plan since we first moved to Mexico as it just makes sense financially. My earnings potential in the US is so much greater than his is in Mexico so the decision seems like a no-brainer. But that's easier said than done, I suppose. He has had a rough time all these months he's been out on disability but we both imagine that staying home with baby will feel so much more rewarding than staying home twiddling his thumbs while waiting for medical clearance to return to work. It can be a tough pill to swallow for any man to have his wife be the provider so it certainly won't come without it's challenges. That's where that faith comes in again...

I suppose that's a big part of parenting though, right? Good intentions and a whole lot of faith?

Wish us luck.

Saturday, October 24, 2015


I remember watching Twister when I was about 12 years old and secretly fantasizing about becoming a storm chaser when I was older. It sounded so adventurous and intriguing. Fast forward about 20 years and it turns out I'm not very adventurous or intriguing. In fact I'd much rather live a safe, dry, boring life than live through some sort of epic, Blockbuster-worthy storm.

So imagine my despair a couple of weeks ago when I heard reports of a tornado in Juárez and couldn't get a hold of my husband. Friends were having to pull off the road because of the golf ball size hail falling and Raymundo was nowhere to be found. Some of his friends were in town from Parral for a funeral but I wasn't sure what part of town they were staying in so I just assumed that maybe he didn't have signal wherever he was. This happened to be the case. I felt comforted by the fact that the worst of the storm was reported to be in the Las Torres area and I was pretty sure he wasn't anywhere near there.

I was wrong.

He was actually right smack-dab in the middle of Las Torres at the time and ended up getting stuck near the area this video was shot in:

(Video recorded by Mauricio Vargas Miranda)

When he finally had signal he called to tell me that his truck had quite a bit of damage from the hail and the windshield and back hatch were both cracked. The storm left the whole truck looking somewhat pock-marked but not nearly as bad as some of the videos I had been watching all afternoon online. We are both bummed at the thought of having to deal with the repairs of course, but definitely grateful that it wasn't worse and it's still driveable.


As if we hadn't had enough excitement with that storm, hail began to fall again while I was working in El Paso this past Wednesday. Here we go again, I thought. I stood at the door of the office, staring at my car, willing it to be strong and withstand the storm as I briefly contemplated throwing my body over the hood to prevent a second vehicle from being marred by hail.

Dramatic much?

I ended up having nothing to fear because the hail never got much bigger than the size of a pea. No, the problem with this second storm turned out to be the flooding, not the hail. I got a phone call from Ray at about 5:30 pm that evening telling me to park my car behind the Oxxo because it would never make it to our house. The water was too deep. You see, Juárez doesn't exactly have a reliable drainage system for the most part so when it rains, it tends to flood large portions of the city.

I envisioned myself, now 6 months pregnant, wading through waist deep water for the 2 blocks from Oxxo to my house, with my purse and grocery bags over my head, like some sort of destitute tsunami victim clutching her prized possessions. Only all I had was a Walmart bag with some bread and a Styrofoam box of Chinese take-out and of course, this was no tsunami.

In the moment, I recognized that I was being dramatic, I really did. I just couldn't stop myself and see the light. Is that a pregnant lady thing? It had been a rough day in the hormone department already. The baby had been in a weird position all day and nothing felt right. I couldn't stand right or sit quite right or really breathe without being overwhelmed by pressure in my mid-section. I just didn't feel good and I wanted to go home. And it was movie night. And I was hungry. And I didn't want to deal with inclement weather.

We stood on the corner behind the Oxxo for a few minutes as we watched other cars maneuver their way through the flooded streets with the ease that marks a true Juárense. They're bad asses. They've done this a million times before. Just another Wednesday in Juárez it seems. Even being here for 5 years now doesn't allow us to match their skill as they chose just the right route to get home safely. It was only after we saw a Mini Cooper avoiding the deepest of the water by driving into oncoming traffic on the wrong side of the road that we felt slightly more confident that our little Yaris could make it too.

Gordo and I switched cars, him in the Yaris and myself in the Trailblazer now and began to head towards the house. He instructed me to stay to the right of the road, as close as I could to the curb and to not let my foot off the gas. He would follow behind me in the wake of the SUV. We were in good shape until the truck in front of me came to a complete stop and I was forced to put my foot on the brake. The water was so deep I imagined it had to be pouring into our little car at that point but looking back at Ray, I couldn't tell. I was convinced that it was all over and that both cars would be out of commission. We would have nothing to move around in and would both lose our jobs and become homeless due to lack of transportation.

I'm laughing as I type this now, because I realize how ridiculous this all sounds, but I swear to you, in that moment, this all felt very serious. We all know I'm a bit of a drama-queen anyway, but throw in some pregnancy hormones and you really do have the perfect storm. No pun intended.

So this is how I found myself crying in the street, yelling to my husband that I hate this fucking city and I hate the fucking weather here and I wish I lived anywhere else in the world and has Juárez ever heard of a fucking sewer system and I'm tired and hungry and oh my God my boobs are so fucking huge right now, I'm about to fucking tip over.

I ugly-cried like a spoiled child, listing my pathetic problems in the middle of the street as my husband listened intently. He knows I love Juárez and didn't mean anything I was saying but he let me have my moment. I could tell he was trying his best not to laugh at me which made me cry even harder because I knew I was being a complete idiot. He left both cars running for a while to dry out the motors and began trying to calm me down.

It's okay vieja, the car is fine. It's just a little water. Un poco de aqua, no mas. No te preocupas, todo esta bien. Don't worry, it's fine.

And of course, he was right. Everything is completely fine. Both cars are running fine. As always, I need to calm down and look at the bigger picture and as always, God quickly finds a way to show me how blessed I actually am. This time that lesson came with the news of Hurricane Patricia which was said to be the strongest hurricane ever recorded at sea. 

Early Friday morning the tropical storm was upgraded to a Category 5 hurricane and had the potential of being catastrophic. I have a few friends in Southwestern Mexico that were caught in it's path but by this morning they had all checked in to let everyone know they were okay. Luckily it looks like less damage was done than had been anticipated and early reports show the Western coast of Mexico coming out of it all relatively unscathed, or at least with no deaths or damage to major infrastructure. I know flooding and mudslides will continue to be an issue though so we will keep the Pacific coast of Mexico in our prayers.

At the end of the day, despite the unfortunate circumstances, I'm grateful for the life lesson and grateful that my friends are all okay. Patricia ended up being a kick in the ass for me to realize how blessed we are and how much worse things could be. Here's to drier days.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Gender Reveal

From the moment I knew I was pregnant, I knew Baby Cruz was a girl. I also knew Ray secretly wanted a boy, but he didn't dare say a word. We had wanted a baby together for so many years, I think he thought being choosy about the gender would just be selfish. 

I didn't necessarily want a girl, I just wanted a healthy baby and knew it was a girl. If I'm being completely honest, having a daughter absolutely terrifies me. I mean sure, it would be fun to buy dresses and dolls and braid her hair and what not, but eventually this daughter would have the possibility of turning into her mother! Osea me! I shudder at the thought of having to deal with a 13 year old version of myself. But I figured God doesn't give us more than we can handle, so as terrifying as it was, I knew we would figure it out.

I already knew her name. We had picked it out nearly 10 years ago. Eva Marie. Marie is my mom's middle name. Done. The first gift we were given after announcing the pregnancy was a pink, Minnie Mouse walker. Perfect. Eva will love this, I thought.

My creative, thoughtful, crafty, should-seriously-be-a-chef friend, Veronica, offered to make us a gender reveal cake and I gladly accepted. It was really the perfect thing to do so that Ray and I could find out the gender together, since my OB is in El Paso and he obviously cannot go to my appointments.

Veronica was ready for anything!

Knowing I have no patience, on the day of my ultrasound she made not one, but two cakes. How amazing is that? I had my appointment in the afternoon and asked the doctor to determine the sex, but not to tell me. After the ultrasound she scribbled the gender on a piece of paper which was wrapped several times and then sealed in an envelope.

You would have thought I had presidential election results in that damned envelope with the way I sped back across the border. A few short hours later, it was time for the big reveal!

The gorgeous cake.

Here we go...

Blue?! What the...

Ray was completely shocked.
I had him convinced it was a girl.

I was in such disbelief I made Veronica
show me the letter from the ultrasound tech.

So it wasn't a little Eva inside of me after all! After some deliberation (you know, a quick glance at the list we'd been working on for a decade,) we settled on a name. Benjamín Joseph. Benjamín being the only name on our list that was loved by both our English and Spanish speaking family and Joseph being my dad's middle name. He will be Ben-HA-mín to Spanish speakers and Ben-JA-min to English speakers and that's quite alright with us.

We are absolutely elated to add this little boy to our family and cannot wait for his arrival!

Mom, Dad y El Benny

Thursday, August 6, 2015

Tales From the Bridge III

So I have to start this off with some really exciting news. And I wish I could have some great, creative way to do so, but it's not happening for me today so I am just going to come right out and say it.

Ray and I are expecting a baby! I'm due early next year and we are both over the moon with joy. BUT, I sort of despise pregnancy. Shocker. I'm already pretty sensitive and emotional naturally, and my emotions while pregnant are a whole new level of (as my stepdad would put it,) P-S-Y-C-H-O. Today took the cake though because it was just a really emotional day from the get-go and it all started out on the bridge.

The line wasn't really any longer than any other Thursday but it sure did drag. They recently changed which side of the bridge that the Ready Lanes are on and ever since then it's been pretty chaotic. I used to wait about 15 minutes in line on the Bridge of the Americas and now I am waiting closer to an hour in the mornings. It's a little frustrating but it was definitely worse when we first moved to Juárez so it's almost not worth mentioning. Anyway so this morning I ended up in a line that didn't really move for long spurts of time and then all of the sudden the cars would advance quickly.

I finally got to the point where I was next in line at the inspection booth and ended up waiting there for a good 15 minutes. The person that was in front of me being inspected had been there for a really long time. There seemed to be a lot of back and forth, but I just assumed that maybe the passengers were asking the officer a lot of immigration or importation questions because I know that happens from time to time. But one car sitting there for that long isn't very common, especially in a Ready Lane. Typically a car will pass through the booth in under a minute, if even close to that. They ask the necessary questions, do their inspection and move on to the next vehicle. If there are any suspicions they transfer the car over to secondary inspection to look into it further.

So after a while I did start to think that it was weird that I was sitting there for so long. People behind me were honking their horns and whatever but I was not about to follow suit. I understand that there's no way we can know what an officer is doing and if/when they are just slacking and taking their sweet time. For all we know that car could have been chock-full of cocaine. So I just sat there but did notice that as the officer was inspecting the vehicle at the booth, he kept glancing at me and giving me the weirdest looks. I ignored it and went back to scrolling through my Twitter feed.

Finally it's my turn to be inspected. I give the officer my passport, I say good morning and proceed to answer his questions. What was the purpose of your trip to Juárez? How long have you lived there? Where do you work? Simple stuff. He was a little short with me, but that's to be expected, I suppose. Then he takes my passport into the booth and looks up whatever it is they look up on their computer. He spent a good amount of time studying the computer screen before coming out of the booth and asking me why I cross multiple times a day. I explained that I work Monday through Friday in El Paso and only cross once a day. He instantly became argumentative and went on to basically accuse me of lying and insisted that I cross into the US multiple times a day. Not true. I don't know what he was trying to get at but his demeanor was extremely offensive. His facial expressions alone just threw me off.

Then he went on to ask me for my vehicle registration which I have never had anyone ask me for on the bridge with the exception of one occasion several years ago when the El Paso Police was checking for insurance of all vehicles entering the US. Is it normal for them to ask for registration? Maybe. I don't know. But there was just something about the way this guy asked me. Like he was going out of his way to make things difficult. I handed it over to him and he took a nice, long, slow look at it before handing it back to me with my passport stuck in the fold of the paper. He looks me right in the eye as he hands it to me and gives me this long creepy look and says, very sarcastically, "Have a nice day."

I responded with somewhat of a blank stare because how the fuck do you respond when someone says something to you that they clearly don't mean? You don't have to tell me to have a nice day, Border Patrol. I get it. You're not here to be my BF. I don't need you to wish me well or tell me you feel bad that I live in Mexico or ask me how my weekend was or tell me I look nice. I don't need your fake, condescending, "have a nice day!" There are plenty of people working for CBP who are actually pleasant at the bridge and may wish me a good day and actually mean it, but if you aren't one of those people, I'm cool with that. I literally have never had major problems at the bridge and maybe I've been spoiled by all of the people who have been so nice to me over the years?

In response to his obvious sarcasm, I stared at him blankly, mostly because I had no clue how to respond. He quickly went on to loudly say, "Or not," with an irritated tone in his voice, "Or don't have a nice day, whatever!" Oh hell no. Who is this guy? I really don't know what it was but that last comment just caused something to click in my head and I became so angry. I don't know... I just felt like he was talking to me like I was a dog or less-than or not worthy of his respect or something.

I asked him if there was some sort of problem to which he announced that there was, indeed, a problem. "You have an attitude problem," he said. Whoa. Where did I go wrong with this guy? I was polite, I said good morning, I answered his questions, I wasn't argumentative, I gave him the documents he wanted. I don't know what more he wanted from me and it was more than a little frustrating. So that's when I requested to speak with his supervisor. And as soon as the request came out of my mouth, I regretted it. I try to be a person that doesn't allow people like this to affect my whole day but for some reason (pregnantbrain,) I just couldn't let it slide this morning.

My request got him all riled up. He almost seemed excited. Oh yeah, let me get him for you, right away! Right now. You just just pull over here to secondary since you're in such a hurry but you have time to talk to my supervisor.

More bullshit sarcasm.

I never said I was in a hurry. After he told me I had an attitude problem, I told him, "Sir, I've been waiting in line for an hour," as I put my hands in the air hopelessly with a quizzical "what do you want my attitude to be like?" look on my face. "Well, that's not my problem," he said, "I just got here," he snapped.

Was I ear-to-ear smiles with a gleam in my eye, jumping up and down with joy this morning? Hell no! It was 7 am and I haven't had caffeine in 3 fucking months. I suppose what bothered me the most is that I feel like I have always gone out of my way to be polite to CBP. And honestly, in return I have had really great experiences crossing. I do think that my attitude has played a part in those good experiences because I believe that a person's attitude is infectious. Unfortunately today just didn't work out like most mornings...

I pulled into Secondary to wait for the supervisor at which point the officer asked me for my passport again, and then felt the need to ask for my car insurance (eye roll) and told me to turn off my vehicle. Again, going out of his way to be difficult. As I'm sitting there waiting for the supervisor I start to feel really fucking stupid. My eyes are welling with tears and I'm realizing that this whole thing is so trivial. There were no civil rights violations at play (which no doubt happen regularly at the border,) or anything that even warranted filing a complaint. If this guy is having a power trip and wants to talk to me like a piece of shit, tough cookies Emily, get over it. People are abused and talked down to and treated inappropriately all the time and here I am about to report this guy because he goes to work in the morning like somebody just pissed in his Cheerios? So not worth it.

The supervisor came over eventually and introduced himself and politely shook my hand. I immediately recognized him. He's seen me cross countless times before and has always gone out of his way to be decent and respectful. (Probably why he's the supervisor even though he's half the age of the guy who just finished giving me such a hard time.) I immediately apologized for taking his time but told him I just felt as though something had to be said. The tears started to flow as I explained what had happened. As I heard the words coming out of my mouth my brain was sending it fierce signals to stop talking but my words continued to flow as fast as my tears. I sounded all kinds of hormonal and I swear that poor man probably thought I was completely insane. I mentioned that I had never felt the need to file a complaint about CBP, not even the time an officer told me that my husband married me for a green card and would divorce me as soon as he got it, but for some reason this time was different.

He asked me if there was anything he could do and I told him that I really just wanted to tell someone that this man made me feel uncomfortable and I felt his demeanor was inappropriate and completely unnecessary. He talked down to me, told me I have a bad attitude and basically called me a liar and I wanted someone to be aware of that. The supervisor was sympathetic and asked me repeatedly if I would like him to do anything about it before making sure I wasn't late for work and wishing me a good day, genuinely.

Even as I'm typing this right now the entire thing seems absolutely absurd and I realize that maybe I am just totally and completely out to lunch. I don't know. I guess I really just wanted to check in here and vent about my silly experience on the bridge this morning that sort of ruined my whole day because I'm an idiot and I let it.

Any crazy, hormonal, pregnancy stories you'd like to share to make me feel less like I belong in a padded room?