Never Broken: Songs Are Only Half the Story (37 page)

On August 7, 2008, we were married. The beach was lit with candles. Jason spoke, I read my own vows, and Ty read his. Mine of course were more verbose. I smiled ear to ear while he recited his. On the inside of his ring I had inscribed,
in you lives my hopes and dreams
. In mine he’d written,
I believe in you
. Jason said, “Now you may kiss the bride,” just as the sun set behind us.

After the ceremony we sat down to dinner and began to call friends and family. Ty began drinking, I had a mojito or two, and we were both ecstatic. Our friends were shocked and happy for us. In the pictures from that night, I look the happiest I have ever seen myself. I belonged. I had my
forever
. I had a rock who vowed to love me and be tender and support me. I was so ready for peace and settling down and starting a family of my own.

The next morning Ty woke up hungover. He sat up and said, “I think I’m done drinking.” “Oh yeah?” I said, laughing. “Yeah. I’m done,” he
said. And that was that. I knew he would never touch another drop, and he never did. He was going to do everything to be the best husband and dad in the world.

After our honeymoon I went back to work. It was a lot of fun touring the album and working hard to make it successful. Once that phase began to wind down, I started to think about what to do next. Despite our best efforts, I was not pregnant yet, so I focused on another project. It was time to do my first indie album, and with Virginia’s help, to test my ability to take music directly to fans with no label and no radio.

Years earlier, during the height of
Pieces of You
, parents often told me that my music had a quieting effect on their babies. It gave me the idea to do a mood album, one that was soothing and tranquil the whole way through, based on the lullabies I’d written for myself when I was overcome with anxiety. The new album would be original lullabies for adults as much as for kids. And hopefully my own child would be soothed to sleep with them one day.

I produced it myself on the ranch. I wanted it to sound simple and organic. Virginia was aggressive, and we were making a good team. I made the record for a very small budget to keep the costs down. We found a company that had listening kiosks in Walmart and Target, in the baby and greeting card aisles, where they sold mostly generic instrumental records of public domain songs. I licensed my album to them for a short-term trial period. We then went to Fisher-Price and licensed their brand. We got the CD out of the music section and into the most trafficked areas. I did an HSN special, every major morning talk show, Leno, and a high-profile spot on
Dancing with the Stars
, where Ty was a contestant. Ty was not particularly thrilled to do a dancing show, but felt it would be good exposure for the Professional Bull Riders, cowboy athletes, and the western lifestyle in general, so he bucked up and did his best. America fell in love with his disarmingly earnest personality—much
to the chagrin of the judges—and despite his being a self-proclaimed horrible dancer, viewers voted him into the finals.

We still were unable to get pregnant, and we began to engage in the highly romantic act of planned baby sex. Temperatures and calendars got involved. It was hilarious. Somewhere about six months into the marriage though, it began to show signs of stress. There are many stories here, but suffice it to say that once again my need for love and for a fantasy outpaced my ability to see the truth. However, we were both very determined and
dedicated.

twenty-eight

a child of my own

L
ullaby
was wildly successful. It surpassed our expectations, and with no radio play and no traditional distribution sold an astounding half million copies. In the current market that was like having a platinum record. I was able to make a simple folk record I loved, for practically nothing, and found a way to get it directly to fans. It was a very rewarding experience.

I began to formulate the songs for my next country album with Scott Borchetta, once again drawing on old and new songs, and went into the studio with Nathan Chapman to record
Sweet and Wild
.

The complexities of life and relationships don’t fit neatly into one song—it takes many to get at all the issues. “Ten” was about how often Ty and I had begun fighting. Since we’d gotten married, I felt Ty was growing increasingly critical and uncomfortable with me. I wrote the song in an optimistic effort to believe arguments could be healthy as long as we could pause and count to ten when tempers flared, allowing cooler heads to prevail rather than jumping in and tearing tender things apart. I really love this song.

Whoever said love is easy, must’ve never been in love;

Sometimes it’s a land mine, one wrong step and it blows up;

A word, a look, lights a hidden fuse.

It’s hard to see just what you have, when you’re seeing red;

And easy to do something you know you both will regret;

Better stop, think, count to ten before I leave.

One, I still wanna hate you;

Two, three, I still wanna leave;

Four, searching for that door;

Five, then I look into your eyes;

Six, take a deep breath;

Seven, take a step back;

Eight, nine, I don’t know why, we even started this fight;

By the time I get to ten, I’m right back in your arms again.

“No Good in Goodbye” was about my feeling that I had been around the block enough times to know that Ty was the person I wanted to spend my life with, even when times got hard. That’s what marriage was.

Once upon a time used to feel so fine

I really made you shine

We laughed like we were drunk on wine

but not anymore

Used to feel so good

used to laugh like we should

we did what we could

Come on baby, I’m sorry

Would you open the door

Baby, don’t say the stars have fallen from your eyes

Baby just say, say you need me one more time

For you and I

there is no good in goodbye

You know I used to love to leave

always had something up my sleeve

I guess I mistook being alone for being free

But no never again

We were still trying to get pregnant, and my mind often drifted to all the things I wanted to tell my future child, should I get to be so lucky. I wanted him or her to know that personal satisfaction and fulfillment are always simple and we often pass them by without even knowing. That happiness is delicate and gauzy, and flourishes in quiet moments and time with loved ones and in nature. It takes simplifying. I was taking this to heart myself. I wanted to work less. I wanted to build a family. I wanted to pour my soul and creativity into it. I wanted my child to know and benefit from the knowledge that was so hard won in my life.

Satisfied

If you love somebody

You better let it out

Don’t hold it back

While you’re trying to figure it out

Don’t be timid

Don’t be afraid to hurt

Run toward the flame

Run toward the fire

Hold on for all you’re worth

’Cause the only real pain a heart can ever know

Is the sorrow of regret

When you don’t let your feelings show

So did you say it

Did you mean it

Did you lay it on the line

Did you make it count

Did you look ’em in the eye

Did they feel it

Did you say it in time

Did you say it out loud

’Cause if you did hun

Then you lived some

That feeling inside

That’s called satisfied

I have always felt I had to try so hard to be loved, as if being alive were not enough. I had to be perfect, had to make myself small, unfalteringly kind, without needs. Even though I knew better rationally, I felt that who I already was wasn’t enough to be loved by a parent or a partner. In “What You Are” I was trying to speak to this part of myself, and to the part of everyone who still is unable to deeply know their own beauty, strength, and inherent nobility.

Gravity is gravity

It doesn’t try to pull you down

Stone is stone

It can’t help but hold its ground

The wind just blows though you can’t see

It’s everywhere, just like I’ll always be

You already are what you are

And what you are is strong enough

Look in the mirror

Now that’s another story to tell

I give love to others

But I give myself hell

I have to tell myself

“In every seed there’s a perfect plan”

Everything I hoped to be

I already am

A flower is a flower

It doesn’t have to try to bloom

Light is light

It just knows how to fill a room

And dark is dark

So the stars have a place to shine

The tide goes out

So it can come back another time

Goodbye makes hello so sweet

And love is love so it can teach us

That we already are what we are

And what we are is beautiful

And strong enough

And good enough

And bright enough

With pregnancy still eluding me, I was consulting fertility doctors and naturopaths and medical practitioners of all sorts. I’d felt a lack of energy for several years now, and in general just felt “off.” I researched and talked to dozens of people on topics from how bell curve averages are set for analyzing blood work panels to how thyroid function affects fertility, from the debate of synthetic versus bioidentical hormones to all the nuances of in vitro fertilization should I have to go down that road. A dynamic doctor named Kim Balas, in Wyoming of all places, finally detected a hormone imbalance and an underachieving thyroid, although she felt these were not the underlying cause of the problem, but instead the result of long-term stress and exhaustion. All the stress in my life, the sleepless nights, and the touring had tapped my adrenal glands and caused a cascade of hormonal reactions. I called Virginia and said, “I don’t think I am going to be able to do the work necessary to make this record a success. I need to take time off to get pregnant.” We called Scott together to tell him and said that he could pull the album if he wanted.

Scott understood and said he still wanted to put the album out. This was new for me. I had never released a product knowing in all likelihood it would not thrive because of my unwillingness to support it. But I wanted a family more than I wanted more record sales.

I did a two-week tour, and then Ty and I headed for some rest and relaxation—just the two of us. We spent three months riding our motorcycles from Texas to Canada by way of the Rockies. My love affair with motorcycles had begun several years earlier when Ty called me up while I was working in L.A. “Hey hon, you’d never guess what I’m doing. I’m headed to go buy a Rebel motorcycle. Tony talked me into it.” To which I responded flatly, “Well, get me one too.” Ty was shocked, but I knew he would fall in love with motorcycles and they would be his new thing—I could either join him or be left behind. When he had dedicated himself to learning natural horsemanship in Northern California, I went with him and we lived in a trailer for three months while we both learned how to ride horses “at liberty,” without saddle, head stall, or reins.

Our first ride was through Marfa, Big Bend, around the Panhandle, down by the ocean, then up through the Hill Country, in blistering heat and subzero temperatures. That’s one thing about doing anything with a bull rider—you better be ready to go big and go extreme.