Becoming Michelle Obama

 The marriage counselling because this was my pivot point, my moment of self arrest. Like a climber about to slip off an icy peak, I drove my ax into the ground. Calmness and strength  , two things I feared I was losing, were now back. Counseling helped him to see the gaps in how we communicated, and he worked to be better at it. Our counselor , he was an empathic and patient listener, coaxing each of us through the maze of our feelings, separating out our weapons from our wounds. Each time Barack and I left his office , we felt a bit more connected. I began to see that there were ways I could be happier and that they didn't necessarily need to come from Barack's quitting politics in order to take some nine to six foundation job. I now tried out a new hypothesis ; It was possible that I was more resenting Barack for managing to fit workouts into his schedule, for example to even begin figuring out how to exercise regularly myself. We made our schedule. The routine was ironclad, which  put the weight of responsibility on Barack to either make it on time or not. For me , this made so much more sense than holding of dinner or having the girls wait up sleepily for a hug. It went to my wishes for them to grow up strong and centered and also unaccommodating to any form of old school patriarchy: I didn't want them ever to believe that life began when the man of the house arrived.           

Michelle's friends because one of them steered her towards a fertility doctor whom she and her husband had used. Michelle's friends steadied her through the miscarriage. Her friends responded by heaping Michelle with their love and support by sharing their own struggles. The exams there was no discernible issue with either of them. The mystery of why we weren't getting pregnant would remain just that. The drug suggested Clomid didn't work so we moved to in vitro fertilization. Michelle hoisted the needle and sank it into her flesh.    

More fooling around and more pot in David's car. 

Michelle's parents, Fraser Robinson and Marian Robinson. They talked to Michelle and Craig like adults. They didn't lecture but rather indulged every question we asked, no matter how juvenile. They never hurried a discussion  for the sake of convenience. Our talks could go on for hours, often because Craig and I took every opportunity to grill my parents about things we didn't understand. Fraser was handsome with a mustache that tipped down the sides of his lips like a scythe. His chest and arms were thick and roped with muscle. He loved driving. Mrs Robinson made a police officer apologize for a officer mistaken Craig for stealing his new bike. Mrs Robinson gave the officer a brutal tongue lashing. Mr Robinson loved to be the rock for others. What he couldn't do physically , he substituted with emotional and intellectual guidance and support. My dad had faith  in his own utility. It was a point of pride. He tended boilers at the Chicago water filtration plant. My mother had a unflappable Zen neutrality. When things were bad , she gave us only a small amount of pity. When we'd done something great, we received just enough praise to know she was happy with us, but never so much that it became the reason we did what we did. Advice when she offered it , tended to be of the hard-boiled and pragmatic variety. She loved us consistently, Craig and me , but we were not overmanaged. She and my dad offered guidelines rather than rules. They raised me to run my life.                 

The academics who did medical research at Chicago University medical center, who found the neighborhood so scary that wouldn't even cross an off campus street. I expected more from academics.    

Not getting hit in the face from that boy who's fist was like a comet when Michelle was in school. He was a bully. For Michelle there was magic in the learning. She got a buzzy sort of satisfaction. Bullies were scared people hiding inside scary people.     

Frasier Robinson should have gone to the doctor earlier. He had spent weeks ,months if not years ignoring the pain. He admitted that walking on his feet was like walking on needles. His face puffed up, his neck got thicker, his voice was weak. He had Cushing's syndrome, possibly related to his MS or not.  He was well past any sort of stopgap treatment. In hospital Frasier kissed and kissed again again the back of Michelle's head. She stayed with him until he fell asleep. By the time the sun had come up the next day Frasier Robinson III - had a heart attack and passed away that night, having given Michelle, Craig and his wife absolutely everything.   

A smiling Michelle Obama ,a Clinton victory in 2016, the vibrant diversity of the two previous inaugurations that didn't have a kind of overwhelmingly white and male tableau.  

Barack Obama staying with Michelle during the in vitro fertilization treatment. Michelle doesn't blame him. It was the acute burden of being female. But it wasn't equal , either , and for any woman who lives by the mantra that equality is important, this can be a little confusing. Michelle went for the daily ultrasounds to monitor her eggs, blood tests and Barack didn't have to cancel any meetings for cervix inspections. His duty was to show up and provide some sperm.