A couple side-notes here. First, one thing Joliet brought us was the importance of distance. We were an hour's drive from my dad's place, an hour-and-a-half from my mom's, and a little over four hours from her parents. Time together, alone, really helped us get to where we were.
Second, "where we were" was two friends trying to help each other out and start a family. We did have our differences... the not-being-allowed-to-teach thing was a big one, but my dear old friend Guilt led me to go along with that one. Another was sex... I wanted it, she didn't. Even when we were "trying to get pregnant," it meant once a month around the eleventh or twelfth day of her cycle, whether either of us was in the mood or not. The times we did have sex failed miserably in the mindblowing department. Going from Laura Jo to Debbie was as from filet mignon and a lobster tail to a bologna sandwich with stale bread and no mustard.
In 1993, our once-a-monthers worked again. This time the seed took, and our Catherine Anne was born in December. To this day, the happiest three words I've ever heard in my life were spoken by Dr. Jack Sui in the delivery room when he announced, "It's a girl."
Life was grand. I was given more and more responsibility at work, Debbie was doing well at the bank, and we had a marvellous Grandma-and-Grandpa-type for day care. Debbie breastfed each day at 4pm, 10pm, and 6am. I bottle-fed at 7pm, 2am, and during the days I had off. Appointments for vaccinations were made for mornings I had to work late to close the store. Our church was half a mile down the road from the house we rented.
The three of us were quite the picture-book family (at least for the 1990's).