Abundant Joy

I was walking through the zoo (yes, we spend A LOT of time at the zoo) and thinking about how happy I feel, and really on a deep soulful level have felt for a while now. It feels like this year has been about fully living in and embracing my life and role as mother, and in turn has helped me fully come alive in ways I struggled to before. I feel like these days my default is joy. I spent so many years trying to get here, trying to understand my fear of joy, my reluctance to embrace it....and here I am.

I was trying to deconstruct it in my head, (because of course I was!) looking for all the contributing factors. And there are a lot.

Being a mother has turned out to be the single most rewarding and fulfilling and challenging role and adventure I have ever taken on. It has called me to greater heights and greater depths than I knew I was capable of feeling and enduring. I love being Zane's mom, LOVE it.

There is also the surprising fact that I love being a "stay-at-home-mom", which I really wasn't sure I would. Sure, there are days I am counting each minute till my partner gets home and I can get some down time, but overall? Love it. I love filling our days, our weeks, finding the balance that makes each day enjoyable and nourishing for us both. I love how much I am called to be in the moment and responsive: to my son, my own needs, the seasons, etc...

I also love being a "homemaker", making home a place of peace, nourishment, love, enjoyment, for our family. I find so much purpose in making space for us as a family, in providing for us through shared experiences, healthy delicious meals, time together, a peaceful safe clean house. The more peace I find within, the more peace I want to create without.

And of course, there is the undeniable contribution of therapy. I have seen the same gifted therapist for over a year now and have experienced greater change and greater freedom within than I have in any other therapeutic relationship or experience. I entered therapy with a few goals, one of them being the freedom to truly enjoy and embrace this incredible life I am so lucky to be living. I can say without a doubt, we have been greatly successful in this.

My therapist and I are in the process of assessing where we go from here....we are kind of in a place right now where it makes sense for me to stop seeing her so often, at least for a while. And this has me nervous. Without that place, that relationship, held out for me, consistently to come and find myself within, will I get lost? Will I forget this joy? It's scary. I know I can always go back. I know there WILL be more stuff, more cobwebs that need clearing, more wounds that need healing, more patterns that need undoing. I know that in all likelihood this is just a "break", not a "break-up". But still, it scares me.

So, today, when I walked through the zoo, pondering all these things, thinking about how happy I am and have been, how almost every day there is at least one moment when I want to pinch myself to make sure this is really MY life, I am really here (because, happiness has not always come so easily to me), it was a sweet little gift to look down at the base of the statue of mama and baby hippo that Z loves climbing on at the zoo and see the words "Abundant Joy".

I was reminded of all the reasons I have to be joyful in my life and how many of them are within me, deeper than circumstances, deeper than fear.

I hold abundant joy within me.

There will be struggles, there will be darkness, life will be hard at times. But I know now that this capacity for abundant joy is within me. I may need help from time to time to access it, but it is a part of me now that cannot be taken away. And I never ever thought I would say that.

And here is one of the greatest reminders of joy I know of:

Lent revisited

Lent has begun. Two years ago I walked into Lent with a desperate prayer and overwhelming desire to be a mother. I attended church weekly, lighting candles for the soul I soon hoped would join our family and be our child. I was in the midst of blood draws, ultrasounds, and daily injections that felt like a sort of offering and a kind of penance and absolution at the same time.

It was a time of longing and lament.

This morning is so different. I wake at 6am, nurse my one year old as we snuggle in bed together, and head downstairs. We turn on rich peaceful music and I make Zane a little bowl of waffle pieces, strawberries, yogurt, and bananas. He steals a few big gulps of my orange juice and I pour boiling water into the french press and smell the smoky coffee aroma fill the kitchen. I pour coffee for Mr. Spicy and myself, adding our requisite sugar and cream. I make his high protein, high fat breakfast and my own more healthy fare.

After breakfast Zane and I play his instruments to music playing over the stereo and we surprise Daddy in the office with Zane's newfound ability to open doors on his own! I look into Zane's mouth as he laughs and realize that his first tooth is finally finally finally breaking through his gum!!!! We play some more and I tidy up his room while he points at things out the window. Then I sweep him up into my arms, read him a couple of stories, sing him a lullaby, and he drifts off to sleep while gnawing on my knuckle.

It hits me. I am content. I am happy. I am here, fully present in this moment, which can be such a struggle for me. I realize that I am full, that I fit here in this space, that I love my life, and that I am so very very very lucky and blessed and whatever you call it when your life suddenly makes sense and you are fortunate enough to have everything you could ever want or need right in that moment.

And every little piece matters. From the electricity that flows through our stereo to the fresh strawberries in the refrigerator....from the toaster waffles to the coffee beans.....from the toy instruments to the blanket that I wrap around Zane as I rock him. Every piece matters. The mundane becomes holy.

There are no candles lit, no incense wafting, no kneeling, no wooden pew. There is a new ritual, new prayers, there are bananas and juice instead of bread and wine, there are soulful songs on the stereo instead of hymns, and there is joy. There is so much joy here. And it is holy.

Everything is holy.



*not a hyper-christiany song...promise. I just love this song.

Seven

Yesterday was our seventh wedding anniversary. Whew.

Some people say the seventh year is the hardest. There is a rumor, not sure how accurate, about how most divorces occur around the seven year mark. I know of at least one marriage that dissolved on that timeline. And then there's the "Seven Year Itch" and all that.

But we made it. Today is day one of year eight. Eight's always been a lucky number for me.

It is not that I am entirely surprised we made it, but I am relieved. This has been by far the hardest year of our marriage. The year where I understood at a very frightening level why so many marriages don't make it.

But it has paradoxically also been the most blessed and fruitful year of our marriage. The year where I understood better than ever why "we" work and wanted more than ever for us to make it.

We grew so much this year, we faced so many parts of each other and ourselves that were painful and sometimes ugly. We cried. We screamed. We threatened and we ran.

But we also held each other and held onto each other. We fought for one another. We loved and fell in love more deeply. We welcomed our son into the world and loved him with all of our hearts. We became a family. We weathered a long and difficult labor together, we continue to endure sleepless nights and exhaustion together. We have grieved together and rejoiced together. We have learned not to take ourselves too seriously. We have laughed till we cried. We have come out stronger and better for it, together.

This year my husband held me while I swayed and moaned and sweated and yelled, laboring to birth our son. As he held me, as I buried my head in his neck, the smell of him took me somewhere deeply comforting and safe. Somewhere soft and strong. Even now, so many months later I can recall that sensory memory and crawl right back into it, into that smell, that safety, that warmth, that knowledge that right there in that moment nothing could harm us, nothing could separate us. There, where I could rest. Even in the midst of the hardest work I would ever do - in him, in his presence, I could rest.

Last night I made a picnic for us. We dropped Zane at a friend's house and headed for the park. It was raining as we walked with our picnic in hand but we didn't hurry. We made our way to a spot under a tree where the rain was just barely sprinkling through the branches. We ate leftovers in the park while we looked into each other's eyes and talked about the year. More than any expensive dinner, more than any exotic romantic vacation, that moment (like the moment in labor) seemed filled with the essence of "us" and I was grateful for the simple presence of my husband eating on a blanket with me. I was grateful like you would be for water on a hot dry summer afternoon when you have walked a very long long way.

Before we even began "trying" to become parents we had "those" discussions. The ones where you wonder how you will fit a kid in your already busy and hectic lives. You wonder what will give and whether you'll be ok with the compromise. Back then I would hope out loud that parenthood would help us to distill our lives, prioritize, and simplify. I hoped that we would find ourselves taking time for the things that really matter and letting the rest go. I hoped it would slow us down in a good way.

Last night was conformation that my hopes had been realized. We didn't have to try so hard. We didn't have to over-analyse. Things did not need to be "just-so" in order for us to connect and find romance and luxury. A damp picnic in the park, surrounded by hungry geese was enough.

More than enough.

Happy Anniversary Mr. Spicy, I love you more now than I did when I married you and I cannot wait to share more of this life with you. I am grateful for you with all of my heart and soul. Thank you.

(a photo of us together at hour six of my labor)

The Z files: Month Two

Dear Zane,

Two months already? Wow. It is all going by so fast little one. And you are growing like a weed! You are already making your way into your 3-6 month wardrobe and some days I look at you and you look like a little boy instead of my newborn baby.

This month has been full of exploration. We have been getting out of the house together a lot more and I am finding much to my surprise that you, even at such a young age, are an incredible traveling companion and partner in adventure. I love taking you everywhere with me, seeing you experience things for the first time, watching your personality begin to unfold, being reminded to chill and be in the moment with you. We have taken walks, sat in coffee shops, gone grocery shopping, read books, gone out to eat....all things one might do with a new friend or companion. We are both exploring this big world together. And though I have seen it all before, I have never seen it before - not like this.

This month you have filled our hearts with your laughter. We have been reduced to goofy performing monkeys trying everything we can to squeeze one more laugh out of you. But just when we least expect it - there you go again. Your face lights up, your dimple deepens, and you just let loose. It is the most beautiful sound I have heard in my entire life. Really. Your laugh is both explosive as thunder and as gentle as a feather, all at once. What amazes me is how you will begin laughing in the midst of a deep sleep. I wonder what you could be dreaming of that gets you chuckling all to yourself. Already you have private jokes we could never understand.

This month has been a lot about togetherness. We are really together all the time now. Whether I am wearing you in the Ergo as I grocery shop or do laundry or whether we are reading books together or playing on your exercise mat on the floor. We are together. And already it is a slightly different togetherness than last month. You are more deliberate in your responses to me, we just feel more connected, and this month you began to hold onto me. When I am holding you now, you often reach your arm around behind me and pull yourself closer to me with all your mighty baby strength. And when you do this my heart explodes over and over again. You remind me in so many ways that we are in this together. And I, so determined in the past to forge my own way, so full of my own independence, could not be more thrilled to be a part of this pair that we are becoming.

This month has also been about small tastes of separation. We have had many visitors this month (your Nana, your Aunt DeeDee, and your cousins, various friends...with more to come). I admit it has been hard sharing you with these people who have come to love and adore you. Heck, sometimes it's hard to share you with your dad. But I am learning. And I am finding there is a different joy that comes from watching you delight in and interact with the people I love and who love me. As one friend pointed out, when you are being held by someone else, we literally get to see each other from a new angle. A bit of distance at times can be good. Last night I went out without you for the first time that didn't include a mad rushing around to run errands and get back to you as quickly as I could. I went out for a long dinner with a really dear friend. I resisted it at first. I thought about trying to come up with an excuse to bring you along. But instead, I took a deep breath, I spent the day snuggling with you, nursed you one last time, and then handed you over to your dad with dozens of kisses and promises to be home soon. And while at first it was hard to be out there in the world without you (is there a world without you?), slowly it got a little easier. I knew you were safe and loved with your daddy and I knew I was being filled up in ways that would allow me to return to you with more to give. I looked forward to bringing home more of myself to share. Still, as I walked through the door at the end of the evening - I have never been more excited to be home. And it was all I could do not to actually run to where you were. I wonder if your first ventures into the world without me will be much the same.

My heart has stretched this month and I sense it will only continue to stretch further and wider until perhaps it rips wide open. It is stretching to make space for you, for you in all your sweetness and light, for you in all your bigness, for you when we are together, for thoughts of you when we are apart. There is so much to hold onto but so little I can actually hold. Each day dances past and slips out of reach. Each milestone of development eclipsed by the next. We are finding our way, the two of us, the three of us. Finding our way into this bumpy world as a pair, as a threesome - as a family. And I want you to know that I will always be here for you to hold onto, as long as you need, whenever you need it, no matter what. But I will also try hard to let go when I need to, to let you venture out into the world, into your relationships - without me. And I will try to remember to be filled up in other places too, so that I always have more to bring home to you and to your dad.

Maybe that's what it means to be a family. Each of us holding onto one another and being there for each other to hold onto, but also each of us going out into the world, into our experiences, and bringing home more of the world and more of ourselves to share. Thank you for making us a family. Thank you for inviting us to this dance.

Love,
Mama

Identity Crisis

6 weeks ago today, my son was born and I became a mother. I entered whole new world and I have been trying to map the terrain ever since.

I knew motherhood would present challenges to my identity. I assumed my fierce independence would be confronted. I assumed my reluctance to define myself would become even more murky. I braced myself for a full-on identity crisis like I experienced when I was first married.

And I do feel strange and out of sorts and like a new baby (thanks for the metaphor, Selena) just trying to find out who I am in this new world of mine. But it isn't quite as hard or as scary as I thought it would be. At least not all the time.

In fact, sometimes it feels like a call into becoming. Becoming someone I have not yet met but know I am meant to be.

There are dozens of moments throughout the day when I get a glimpse of her. When Zane looks at me with utter adoration, when I can comfort him with just the scent of my skin, when I feed him with my own body, when I wake in the middle of the night completely exhausted and still find a smile for him, when I am able to make the choice to be there for him to be present with him even when I would rather check out for awhile - these moments and so many more give me a taste of the woman and mother I am becoming. She is loving, she is strong, she is honest, she is wise, and she is hot! Seriously. In those moments I feel like a total rockstar superhero. When my son looks up at me and smiles I imagine I am glowing with beauty and light.

And then? I look in the mirror. And yeah. Not so much.

Most days I look rather less than a glowing image of motherly light. And far short of a superhero. I look in the mirror - my hair needs serious attention, and though I have pretty much lost my pregnancy weight I am still heavier (and flabbier) than I would like to be, and there are dark circles under my eyes to remind me that in six weeks I have yet to sleep more than four hours or so at a time. And often I am still in my pajamas at 11am. Not hot. But real. This is me. Right now.

Right now.

But I believe that other woman is in me too, just waiting to become. Ok. So maybe I won't morph into some super-hot superhero with a halo of light shining all around me - that's a bit much. But I do believe I am on my way to someone pretty cool. And this revelation is completely shocking to me.

Despite my intense longing to become a mom, despite my desire to meet my child - I had (and still have) a lot of the same fears about taking on that role that I did about taking on the role of "wife". I wondered if I would still be me, if my identity, my life thus far, who I am - would be swallowed up by this role, by this other person. I feared my voice, my heart, my mind would become irrelevant. I worried I would have to squeeze myself into some box labeled "Mommy" that society dictated I would now belong in. I feared I would not find my way to my own definition, my own carving out of motherhood, that instead a new identity would be hoisted upon me with all its expectations and rules.

So I expected some inner turmoil - and to be honest, there is some. I have spent the last week challenging my spouse completely unnecessarily, to test him - to be sure he saw and valued my contributions as a Mom staying at home as much as his contributions as a Dad who works outside of the home, to be sure we were still partners in this. Like I said, completely unnecessary - but all about my fear of being forgotten and abandon and dismissed because I am now a "Mom".

Right beside that fear though, and perhaps stronger than it, is the notion that being a mother could actually bring me closer to who I am deep inside and who I am meant to be. This was my hope but I had no idea if it would be met. I still don't. But I do know that when I get those peeks at a future me - a strong, powerful, empowered woman and mother who is filled up and giving from her fullness - that is so enticing and exciting to me.

So, for now, I will give out of my exhaustion and my deep deep love and devotion and I will trust that the road to her will become apparent as I listen to my heart. I believe the greatest gift I can give my son, my husband, and myself is to listen and to follow this road to becoming.

In the meantime, I have two incredible partners in this journey - all of us trying to find our way.

The perspective of the rain...

Three years ago we took a trip to Costa Rica, our first there together. We backpacked through the country, catching buses, staying in cheap hotels....it was magical.

Midway through the journey we arrived in a mountain town, high in the cloud forest, called Monteverde. We arrived by way of a rickety old bus driven precariously through the mountain roads. We got into town around noon or so and quickly found rustic and affordable lodging. We unpacked a bit and prepared to explore the area in the afternoon.

I don't remember exactly where we were when it began raining that day. Had we already left the room? Had we made it into "town"? I honestly can't say. But I do remember that it began to rain with such force and fury at 2pm in the afternoon that it felt as if the whole sky might indeed fall in upon us. The air was replaced by sheets and sheets of torrential rain released out of some invisible faucet above. It seemed that there could not possibly be that much water in the entire world.

People retreated from the streets, the bright afternoon darkened. It felt oppressive. And we wondered how long it would continue. But then, about 4pm, like clockwork, the faucet was turned off, the sun came out again, although muted by the clouds that area is known for, and it was all over.

We found out quickly through locals that in May this was pretty much standard for Monteverde, every day there would be these short intense rains beginning around 2pm. We just needed to plan accordingly. So, the next day we planned around the rain, had a fabulous morning, and by the time the rain hit we were happily enjoying Costa Rican coffee in a coffee shop and marveling at the beauty and power of nature.

It's all in the perspective isn't it?

A week and a half ago we were holed up in a luxurious hotel room, enjoying a blissful, romantic babymoon. (ironically, payed for almost entirely with rewards from our credit card, the one we used for many of our IVF expenses) We were well fed, well rested, thoroughly romanced and our internal emotional buckets were full for the first time in a long time. We laughed at our usual worries and talked about the things to come with a sense of peace. We were happy and content.

Then we returned home and within days the first rumblings of thunder began.

Mr. Spicy had decided to accept an offer at another company and after returning from our babymoon, gave notice to the team of people he had helped build and lead for six years. And a whole host of complications surrounding that decision came up like the first drops of impending rain - that we were not expecting.

The tension continued to build around his job stuff, our finances, future concerns we had been able to laugh at only days before.

And then, we decided (well, Mr. Spicy decided) to take in a cat. Seems harmless enough right? She had been crying and crying at our back door for a couple of days, she wanted in, she wanted petting, she wanted food. She was obviously not just another neighborhood alleycat. She had been with people before. Mr. Spicy began bringing her tuna on the deck, and before too long she had moved in - complete with a litterbox and premium cat food. I checked everywhere for someone who might be looking for her, but had no luck. We decided to keep her "for now" and talk about maybe trying to find her a good home after we had vaccinated and spayed her. The best laid plans....as they say.

Well, a few nights ago she began having diarrhea, and it got all over her back end. Mr. Spicy, trying to be helpful, grabbed a spray bottle of dog/cat cleaner and another spray bottle of what he assumed to be water to clean her up. He got her all clean, things seemed well, we went to bed. When we awoke the next morning we found the kitty curled up in a ball on our couch, growling in pain, we couldn't touch her without her yowling. I then noticed the cleaning supplies from the night before and realized that Mr. Spicy had sprayed the kitty, not with water, but with a solution I had mixed up for cleaning our kitchen. It was water, vinegar, and multiple essential oils. The essential oils I used were precisely the kind that are toxic to cats if ingested in large amounts. We feared we had accidentally poisoned our kitty.

We rushed her to the vet hospital for two days of IV fluids, multiple medications, much hand wringing on our part, and literally hundreds of dollars spent. In the hospital she spiked extremely high fevers and it became clear that we may not have had a role in her sudden illness at all. She may have simply had a severe infection. Regardless, we have now bought and paid for a cat - full on. We felt sick at the thought that we may have accidentally harmed her, we felt worried and sad for the little kitty who had so sweetly chosen our home to invade, and we felt anxious and ambivalent about all the money we were spending - money we really didn't have to spare - for a kitty we had only known for a week. We never regretted taking her in, doing the right thing for her - but those two days really took their toll on us.

During that same 48 hours, the truck that Mr. Spicy drives to work, the 19 year old monster of a truck with a broken door lock, the truck we knew we would need to replace in the next year - well, it sort of died. In reality, a major component of the truck died, and it is simply not worth it to put the money into it to replace it. But, if you can imagine - we were dealing with uber-expensive sick kitty in the hospital and the thought of needing to replace a vehicle, basically all at once.

And the rain came pouring down.

It felt very much like that oppressive rain storm our first day in Monteverde, I couldn't catch my breath, there were too many things happening at once - and too much we simply didn't have a buffer for, financially or otherwise. I sunk quickly into feeling sorry for myself, for us. Why was all this happening at once? How could we possibly take on more debt just as everything was changing? Soon, Mr. Spicy would start his new job, soon we will have a new baby - now we have to buy a car, pay vet bills, and we still have to pay for baby stuff and a doula, and Christmas....and and.....anxiety ensues. And the torrential downpour just gets louder.

But then? Then we remembered some "emergency" money we had stashed away. Not enough to fully cover the vet bills, but enough to make a big dent. And, probably more importantly, we remembered we were not alone. I called my dad who has an extra car he doesn't use regularly and asked if we could borrow it for a little while to give us time to buy a car. Not only did he gladly and generously offer it to us, but he made it clear we could borrow it for as long as we need to save up for a good car, a car that will be safe and dependable and actually fit our needs. Which was such a huge relief that I began to cry.

It is such a typically "American" and an extremely indulgent problem to have: the need to buy a car. I mean really. I wish I was someone who was able to simply figure out how to do without one. But for now, with Mr. Spicy working so far away and needing to be able to travel to different offices throughout the day, and with my nanny work - we aren't able to creatively work out another option just yet . And yes, how ridiculous to cry over a car, over maybe having to purchase an old, high mileage vehicle because that is all we could could afford right now - "Oh noes!" I know, I know - it could be so so much worse. And I feel sufficiently ridiculous about it. But knowing we can wait, wait till Mr. Spicy is comfortably settled into his new job, wait till our little Poblano makes his appearance, wait till we have a bit more saved from bonuses and tax returns to make this large purchase more reasonable and less rushed - well, it was like the rain just suddenly stopped pouring. And the sun came out. And I could take a full breath again.

And now? I look back over the past week and feel a bit silly and embarrassed. Somehow, I let this strange and admittedly stressful sequence of circumstances send me into a dark and fearful place. I am not surprised I ended up there, not surprised I possibly became WAY more stressed out than was necessary, not surprised that I allowed these events to invade my psyche and convince me once again that I could not rest, I am not safe, the world is dangerous and unpredictable, and we are all alone in it. I am not surprised. I am dismayed. I don't deny that we had a stressful cocktail of events all at once - I don't blame us for letting those effect us. But now that it has stopped raining, or at least for the most part - Now that our new kitty (her name is Tallulah by the way) is home safe and sound and just as sweet and loving as ever - Now that my dad and stepmom have reached out to us in this generous and loving way........

Well, now I can see that it wasn't the rainstorm meant to drown us, or ruin us - it was simply a short and powerful storm that has cleared up relatively quickly. We weren't drowned, we didn't lose much more than money and an old truck that was on its way out anyhow - we are ok. Sure, as Mr. Spicy makes this next big transition, it will be hard - we will both grieve the people he is leaving, the people he has known for 6 years, we will both feel anxious about the new expectations and new environment for him. He will be under some stress as he navigates his way into this new world. But we are ok. He is ok. Our kitty is ok. We are all ok.

I know part of my heightened reaction is due to pregnancy. And even if it isn't - that's my excuse and I am sticking to it! But I also know that some of it is just me, just us - and how we respond when things go off track for us. We have friends who face enormously stressful situations with so much more grace and so much more ability to simply shrug and move forward, doing what needs to be done. We get there eventually - but not without much gnashing of teeth, inner-soul-searching, and moaning and rolling on the floor. Ok, maybe not rolling on the floor...but you get my drift.

I just wish sometimes we could remember the perspective of that second day in Monteverde, the knowing that the rain would not last forever, was not going to harm us - that we would be ok. I wish we could find ourselves in a cafe, sipping coffee, waiting out the rain, and not losing sight of the beauty and power all around us in the midst of it. I wish we more regularly were the ones helping others out of the rain rather than needing that help so much for ourselves.

I am grateful that the rain was as short as it was. I am grateful for the lessons we have learned even in that short time. I am grateful for the perspective I have this morning, and that it didn't take me longer to get here. I am grateful we are fortunate enough that these were our worries.

Maybe next time I will not be so frightened when it begins to rain. Maybe next time I will remember.....

New Moon, New Month, New pictures....

It is a new moon tonight and the beginning of a brand new month (the month that also just happens to contain my birthday and anniversary in it) so when better to sit down and write a new post and post some new belly pics?

Well.....after my last post I feel like I owe y'all a big long post about everything that's been going on with me. But all that is coming to mind right now is something that vaguely resembles a "Here's How I Spent My Summer Vacation" essay.

And it has been a big summer so far.

The poblano and I attended a few concerts together (REM, True Colors, Indigo Girls, Feist) and Mr. Spicy even made it to one with us. He and I danced the Lindy Hop together at the Feist show to "My Moon My Man" and it was a blast - although I did feel a little like a Weeble Wobble. I loved being at these shows and sharing all these meaningful and joyful experiences with our little one this way. I danced and rocked back and forth to the music imagining the poblano soaking up the vibrations, the sounds, and all my happy endorphins, while listening to me belt out songs (although very likely horribly out of tune). I already can’t wait to take the poblano to his/her first concert one day. The True Colors tour was probably my favorite show in years and being there with hundreds of people of all ages, races, religions, sexual orientations, and genders who were all focused on equality and human rights while sharing in some amazing music (B-52s, Cyndi Lauper, Joan Armatrading) was powerful in a way I can't really find words for. Looking around at all of these beautiful people and feeling this incredibly positive and loving "vibe" that was just saturating the air, I kept thinking that this was exactly the kind of experience I want to share with my child one day. I want my child to experience the power and beauty of people united in an effort to create positive change in the world by bringing themselves, who they are, their talents, their gifts, their art, their hearts.....to one place together in hope and love for humanity. I want my child to see how amazing people can be. I want my child to see how amazing s/he is and I want my child to believe it is possible to create change with love.

Being out of a job, and having trouble finding one, I decided to volunteer a bit this summer with a day camp for youth (7-13) who live in the same urban neighborhood as we do. The camp is arts-based but also deals with issues of the community and the environment. As part of my volunteer work I had the opportunity to visit the art museum and to meet our district's city councilwoman. It was so great to be "working" with kids again and getting to experience art with them just put me right back in my element. Tomorrow I finish up my volunteering by assisting at a local arts festival that benefits the non-profit that provides this day camp. This has been such a positive experience for me and I am really grateful I had the chance to spend part of my summer this way, with these kids.

We traveled earlier this summer out to the midwest to visit family. Mid-July, the favor was returned and my youngest sister and her four kids came out here to visit the big city. It was a whirlwind of a visit but it was so good to have them here and get that time with them. We all had so much fun together and they are already planning their next trip back. Then, my eight year old niece (LJ) stayed with me the last week in July. She comes out to spend a week with us each summer and it is always a really special time for me. Mr. Spicy was traveling (again) the week she was here so it was especially nice to have her spunky, creative spirit and her sweet, tender heart here to keep me company while he was away. She just left yesterday and I miss her a ton already.

Speaking of Mr. Spicy - his company was taken over in the last month by a larger company and he has been super busy with travel, meetings, and basically just proving how indispensable he is. He also took a cross-country road trip, driving with his mom in a moving truck over 2000 miles. She moved back east this summer to help care for other family members who are dealing with serious health issues. We were both a bit sad to see her go but she is already planning her trip out here to visit the poblano early next year. Oh....and just because he doesn't have enough on his plate, the Spicy Man gutted our upstairs bathroom and it is currently awaiting remodeling/ rebuilding which we will be hurrying to get done in the next 2 weeks before the British journalist, who we will be renting our bedroom to, arrives for the DNC.

I also have been applying for jobs which has been a little weird because I really only want to work up until my last month or so of pregnancy, so I am not looking for anything long term. It is hard enough to sell yourself and put yourself out there when you are looking for jobs in your chosen field, jobs you plan to stay at for years, jobs you hope to make a career out of. But putting all that effort out there to find a job you can easily walk away from in 4 months or so just feels harder in some ways. Fortunately, a friend has asked me to cover for her nanny in Aug and Sept while she is on maternity leave (the nanny, not my friend) so that will be a good start, and her next door neighbor has expressed an interest in hiring me for the same in Oct. and Nov. - so if that works out I will be in much better shape and can finally stop obsessively scanning employment ads, which will be nice.

Speaking of not working, it has been really hard to be out of work all these months. I had planned to take off during our IVF process, but thought I would be back working much sooner than this. I haven't worked a job since March! If I were home taking care of a child that would be something, but just being a "stay-at-home-wife" has felt very weird and uncomfortable to me. I like contributing financially, I like having an answer to the "What do you do?" question. Lately I just feel this big silence come over me when that question is asked......not that I am totally wasting this time - I don't think I am - but I do better when I have a little more structure to my days and I am not quite so all alone all the time. Although, this summer has felt so incredibly busy and draining at times that I can hardly imagine having added a job into the mix any sooner.... so maybe it has all been for the best. Besides, I only began making it through an entire day without multiple naps and bouts of nausea a couple of weeks ago, so.....yeah.


On top of all this there has been the roller coaster of hormones and emotions that pregnancy brings and all that fun (not so much) deep psychological and spiritual work to be done by Mr. Spicy and I as we prepare (and freak out) on our way to becoming parents. More on that to come....

Oh....and while I am experiencing a bit more energy (although nowhere near the incredible surge of 2nd trimester energy that the pregnancy books all insist I should be feeling!) and the nausea is subsiding....I am having all NEW 2nd trimester symptoms! Yay! Actually, they aren't too bad at all and I do feel tons better than I felt even a few weeks ago. Mostly right now I am having swelling of my hands and feet, some sciatic pain if I am a little too active, numbness on my left thigh (related to sciatic nerve compression apparently), and the unmistakable sensation of feeling like a human space heater. Today it hit 104 degrees and I thought I was going to spontaneously combust and that Mr. Spicy would come home to a large pile of ashes instead of a wife. I am so ready for summer to be over, and I have never ever wished for that before. I usually LOVE summer, the hotter the better. But now? Not so much. I am literally praying for rain.

If I have not sufficiently bored you already, I will now share the belly pics of the last few weeks that prove that yes, there is in fact a little someone growing in there. Which is still a fact I can barely wrap my brain around most days.

Week 14


























Week 15

(and yes, that is a toilet sitting in the middle of the room....remember when I mentioned the "gutted" bathroom? I wasn't kidding! I suggested we leave it here and use it as a giant water bowl for the dogs....but Mr. Spicy vetoed the idea.)












and........


Week 16

(the red shirt against the red wall isn't my best artistic choice but check out those sexy maternity jeans! I will be keeping those long after pregnancy for those big thanksgiving dinners....it makes me wonder why I ever wore pants with buttons or zippers?)

My 5 years in veterinary medicine finally pay off.....

So when I was out in the Midwest visiting family I got to spend some great time with my goddaughter, LJ. She and I have a really special relationship. We are really close and I take my role as her aunt and godmother very seriously. Who knew it would someday require me to discuss with her the anatomy of female mammals, lactating ones to be specific?

When LJ first found out last summer we were trying to become parents she was a bit skeptical. She voiced her concerns that our time together would not be "just us" anymore and that she wouldn't get so much of our love and attention. Mr. Spicy and I assured her that she would always be very special to us, we would always have space and time for her, that we would make sure to get our one-on-one time with her even once we became parents. We even told her part of the reason we were so eager to become parents was because we loved our time with her so much and we hoped to have a child just like her one day. She took this all in, but she still had her reservations.

So this year, when we finally became pregnant and told her about it, we expected a lot of resistance. But she's eight years old now and MUCH more mature, don't you know? So, she checked in with us, reminded us that we promised to still make time for her and then she took it all in stride. Within a week or two she was negotiating babysitting fees for the summers when she comes to visit. She's offering us a week of babysitting of $10 - I think we'd better get that in writing!

Well, when we came to visit we found she was really taking this whole thing very seriously. She had gone to the library and found a book for kids that talked about pregnancy and babies. She was doing her research. I was so proud!

She took me upstairs to show me this book. It was a book about the human body and the human life cycle, illustrated and written for her age level. It was actually pretty cool.

She flipped immediately to the section on pregnancy. (I notice she skipped right over the "How babies are made" section - Thank God!) She showed me illustration after illustration of a baby growing in the belly of an increasingly pregnant mommy. She pointed and reminded me that this was what our baby looked like right now. She got through the part where the baby comes out and is born, and then....

LJ: But ewwww....this part is REALLY gross!

(I look down expecting to see the baby pooping or vomiting or something....but instead see a mother tenderly breastfeeding her newborn)

Me: That's how she feeds the baby, it's very natural.

LJ: No. It isn't. It's gross. Really really gross. And weird.

Me: But that's how mommy cows feed their babies, and horses, and dogs, and cats..... (she lives on a farm so I was trying to draw on something she might be familiar with)

LJ: Um. no. No they don't - they don't feed them with their boobies.

Me: Yes they do. Their "boobies" are just in a different place.


From the look on her face at that point, I am afraid I may have just scarred her for life.

Long time, no posting.....

I cannot believe it has been 2 weeks since my last post. Wow.

So if any of you are still out there and following this, I should probably explain why I have been such a spotty blogger. (hey, that could be a cool band name, "Spotty Blogger") Here's a taste of what my month has been like (fascinating, I know):

At the beginning of the month, there was the depression. Then the depression eased up and morning sickness took me out. Literally, I couldn't even stand looking at a computer screen any time after noon. Then the morning sickness began to ease up and this week I found myself knocked out by a nasty sinus infection. Totally kicked my ass. Sinus infections make morning sickness look like a good thing. I finally got some antibiotics on Wed. from my OB (Dr. Honey) and waking up this morning without feeling like someone was trying to smash my head in with a mallet was like Christmas morning, only twenty times better. Whew. The morning sickness is still threatening to come back, but seems like it isn't quite as overwhelming as before. So, yeah....physically I have been a bit occupied.

And it has also been just a full month logistically. Mr. Spicy has been out of town on two business trips, which always forces me to up my game a bit. He's been out of town this whole week, missing my festival of incredible pain, aka "the sinus infection saga". This has been good for him - he needs a break from me and my endless whining and neediness - heck, I could use a break from me. But it kinda sucks for me. Or it did this week. I forgot how completely lonely it feels to be sick and have no one coming home to help you. I cannot wait for him to get home!

In addition to Mr. Spicy's trips, we took a short but very full trip together, a couple weeks ago, out to the Midwest to visit my family. We got to visit with my Grandma Penny, who is living in an assisted living home for Alzheimer's patients. It is a really nice facility, and I think she likes it overall. But I know the loss of freedom and independence is really really hard on her. She cracked us up by telling us she liked it there, the nurses were nice to her, but also, "they are all bitches". She certainly has kept her feisty spirit! She was very lucid and alert when we arrived, she knew who we are, that we are expecting a baby, and engaged in lots of conversation with us. More of my family arrived, my aunts and my uncle, two of my cousins, my mom and her fiance.... It was so good to see everyone and Gramma seemed to really enjoy all the attention. But it wore her out after a couple of hours, and that's when it became most evident how much things have changed. The more exhausted she got, the more confused she became. My heart just wanted to reach out and hold her like a child (not that she would tolerate that necessarily) - I just felt so tender towards her. It is hard to see her so frail.

Also on this trip we attended my niece (and goddaughter) and my nephew's dance recital. Again,most of the family showed up and we had a great time being entertained by dancing children of all ages. And what is more darling than precious young girls twirling in tutus? I was all weepy (I blame the hormones) and both my niece and nephew did really well. Although, I should make the disclaimer that my nephew is 3 years old and his performance consisted of wearing a Spiderman costume and tumbling across mats. He was ADORABLE!!!! My niece is eight and essentially had a ballet solo all by herself. I was so proud of them both. I got some video I need to put on to YouTube. Maybe I will post it later. It was really precious.

We got to have some fun meals with family, laughing, catching up and sharing stories and advice. It was so good seeing everyone. We stayed with my youngest sister and her family so I got some really nice one-on-one time with her, which I haven't had much of before. It is wild to now be relating to my "baby sister" about pregnancy and parenting....but she's a great mom and she has a really great perspective on most things. Where I am the person who stresses and over thinks things to death, she is really good at just putting that one foot in front of the other and living life day to day. We had some good late-night talks that helped put my mind at ease about a lot of things.

Overall, it was a great trip - but it was completely fast and furious and FULL!!! It took me a couple days to just recover from it all.

I also had my meet and greet and then my first official appt with Dr. Honey, my new OB. I like her. She is down-to-earth and really kind and approachable. She squeezed in a short ultrasound even though they usually wouldn't give me another one until 20 weeks. Everything looked great. I got to do a heartbeat check this week as well when I went in for the sinus infection and the Poblano's heartbeat was round 160 bpm, right where it should be. So far so good. And I think after coming to the office three times now, I finally am starting to accept that I belong there. At first it was just such a shock sitting in a waiting room full of very pregnant women. I actually felt anxious....like I would get caught for somehow sneaking in the wrong door. But no, I am one of "them" now - and I will just have to get used to it.

And so..... (if you have made it this far dear reader - I owe you a candy bar) - speaking of getting "used to it".....being pregnant that is......that is probably the biggest single reason I haven't been posting.

Right now, and for weeks, my head and heart have been so full of questions, fears, thoughts, ponderings, and realizations - that I simply haven't been able to even fathom getting it out into words. I still can't really. I think the weight, the responsibility, the reality of becoming a mom has just begun to sink in and in my usual fashion I am taking it all in, looking at it from every angle, probably over-thinking it a bit, feeling it all, and slowly slowly digesting it. Being pregnant, knowing I am a mother now, brings up so many things for me, childhood issues, questions of identity, issues of security, family junk, questions about spirituality and faith, fears (so many fears), hopes, and an overall sense of "How in the world am I going to know how to do this?". But I am processing it all, turning it over and over in my heart and in my head, and knowing this is work that needs to be done. And so, I am doing it. Bit by bit by bit, I am doing it. Or at least trying to.

And thankfully, I am not alone in it. I have wise and loving friends and family, a wise and loving counselor, wise and witty blog readers, and a wise and weary husband. I am not alone, even when I feel that way at times. And I am so grateful for that.

What was that line about it taking a village?

Hate

I am thinking of how much hatred there is in the world, of how often we resort to words and actions filled with hatred to try to change another person, to try to get our way in the world, to try to declare our stance - what we believe is right and wrong. I don't believe that this works.

I think love, the loving of another human being in a relationship, that is the only way true transformation occurs. Only then can minds and hearts be changed and differences and experiences understood. But this is not an easy task.

Just something I am pondering.

While I ponder, here are some quotes on love and hate from those much wiser than I:

Hate is too great a burden to bear. It injures the hater more than it injures the hated.
-Coretta Scott King

Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.
-Martin Luther King, Jr.

If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn’t part of ourselves doesn’t disturb us.
-Herman Hesse

We have enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love one another.
-Jonathon Swift

Love, like truth and beauty, is concrete. Love is not fundamentally a sweet feeling; not, at heart, a matter of sentiment, attachment, or being "drawn toward." Love is active, effective, a matter of making reciprocal and mutually beneficial relation with one's friends and enemies.

Love creates righteousness, or justice, here on earth. To make love is to make justice. As advocates and activists for justice know, loving involves struggle, resistance, risk. People working today on behalf of women, blacks, lesbians and gay men, the aging, the poor in this country and elsewhere know that making justice is not a warm, fuzzy experience. I think also that sexual lovers and good friends know that the most compelling relationships demand hard work, patience, and a willingness to endure tensions and anxiety in creating mutually empowering bonds.

For this reason loving involves commitment. We are not automatic lovers of self, others, world, or God. Love does not just happen. We are not love machines, puppets on the strings of a deity called "love." Love is a choice -- not simply, or necessarily, a rational choice, but rather a willingness to be present to others without pretense or guile. Love is a conversion to humanity -- a willingness to participate with others in the healing of a broken world and broken lives. Love is the choice to experience life as a member of the human family, a partner in the dance of life, rather than as an alien in the world or as a deity above the world, aloof and apart from human flesh.
-Carter Heyward

And as the priest would say at the end of the service, in the Episcopal church I attended growing up:

Go forth and love one another.


and just one more:

I may be the villain in your story....but I am a good man.
Dr. Richard Webber (Grey's Anatomy)

Brides, Birth Control Pills, Basket Stitch, and Butterflies

And...I'm back.

Mr. Spicy's sister and her boyfriend came to stay with us last Thu and just left yesterday. It was probably one of our best visits with her. We had a great time. We all went to a mutual friend's wedding on Friday (Congratulations Mrs. and Mr. Banana!) - I did the makeup for the bride which was more than a little intimidating, but no one made any clown jokes so I think it turned out OK. On Saturday we toured the area around Pikes Peak. We saw 7 Falls and Garden of the Gods, and ate an amazing meal in Manitou Springs. In fact, we ate quite a few great meals while they were here. I used their visit as an excuse to break two of my main dietary rules (no sugar and no dairy) and boy did I break them! I mean, if you are going to cheat, cheat big right??? We had Thai, Mexican, Italian, and most importantly my own homemade gluten-free banana cream pie. (Which elicited all sorts of inappropriate "pie" references - because we are all 12 years old) Mr. Spicy and I finished off the pie in bed last night (I convinced him that I needed to finish it before the week started so I could get back on my wagon on Monday) and it was delish! (If I do say so myself)

I did a lot of knitting this weekend too. I had part 2 of my Knitting 101 class on Sunday and I wanted to have a lot done on my sample swatch. Because, as Mr. Spicy is quick to point out, I must be the valedictorian of everything (unabashedly borrowing the term from Dooce) - literally - I was trying every stitch and stitch combination my little beginner brain could come up with: Garter, Stockinette, Rib, Seed, Basket... hmmm....those sound like terms related to fancy undergarments....where is my mind today? I was wanting to explore and challenge myself but also secretly hoping I would come to class and the teacher would marvel at my natural skill and pronounce me to be a knitting prodigy. The light would pour down upon me and she would realize that I was the chosen one, the one to which she should pass on her master skills , and also her pattern for the fancy lace shawl. Instead, however, I was 10 minutes late to class. And while the amount of knitting I had done did seem to impress them - there was no light, and no choir singing in the background. Which is just fine of course. I did start an actual project: a small little button-closure coin purse of sorts. I am doing it in this gorgeous pink yarn. I will try to post pics when it's finished. I am already planning projects (all for friends and family) after this one. I actually really enjoy knitting. The ability to just sit and be quiet and sort of zone-out, relax, and focus on something small and specific, letting go of everything else for a bit - while at the same time creating something beautiful - it's really quite amazing. I love just about anything where I can tap into my desire to create. And I can knit anywhere. I even find myself trying to arrive at appointments early so I can get a little knitting done. If knitting can reform my chronic lateness - that in and of itself will have almost been worth it! But getting to make beautiful things for people I love while doing something that helps me to stay calm and gives me some peace - that is really the ultimate payoff.

Took my last birth control pill on Saturday. Which meant I got to take them out of my purse finally and stop worrying that if someone saw them they might wonder why someone who is trying to get pregnant is taking the pill. I kept imagining someone seeing them and thinking maybe I was secretly sabotaging my efforts to get pregnant. Um, yeah. I think I have watched too many soap operas or Lifetime movies. But stopping the pill means I should get my period today or tomorrow....probably tomorrow. I am so anxious for this period! Once it comes - things really start kicking in to high gear....I will have an ultrasound and bloodwork to determine if I am adequately suppressed (no cysts, no dominant follicles, etc..) - and then the stims start. And the race begins....hopefully lots of strong little follicles will begin growing all together, like a pack of horses in a horse race. We want lots of strong horses, but no Sea Biscuit - no surprise horse that pulls way ahead of the others and ruins the race for everyone. This race will prove to be quite the nail biter, I am sure.

So far I have only had one or two more hot flashes on the Lupron, nothing too crazy. But my moods? Whooo boy! For the first part of the week I was manic - hyper, bouncing off the walls, saying whatever popped into my head - manic. But this weekend, the other side kicked in and I felt furious at Mr. Spicy about anything and everything. I sometimes could identify that I was over-reacting - but I simply could not help it. I was literally praying yesterday to remember that I loved him. Because in the moment? I felt completely justified in wanting to punch him in the face because he was trying to kiss me good-bye and I wanted him to WAIT 5 MINUTES. Yep. Also - that crazy-making anxiety and self-loathing began to kick in again this weekend. At the very slightest hint of criticism or of being told I might have done something wrong, or just not being rained upon with flowers and doves - I would decide I was worthless, horrible, terrible, broken, and bad - and as much as my logical mind would refute this...it would take many many hours to snap out of it.

The hard part of all of this is that when I feel these things they don't feel hormonally-induced. They feel like me. Like me, only crazy. So then I think - maybe it is just me. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I just need to fix it or figure it out. And then I get so frustrated because I can't fix it and I can't figure it out and blaming it all on the hormones feels like a cop out. Because it doesn't feel like something foreign. It feels like me, only much much worse. But maybe that's what the hormones do? They don't make us into someone we are not - they just fan the flame of a part of us we normally are able to reign-in a little better, or keep better control over? Maybe hormones just let all the doors wide open - and all our little monsters can come out to play? That's a cheerful thought, isn't it?

My counselor had advised me (wisely so) to make a list several weeks ago (before the hormones kicked in) of what is really true about me. This way, when the monsters came out to play, I could look at this list and have something concrete to remind me that I am not just the monsters, even though it may feel that way right now. I am also the butterflies.

I really really wish I hadn't procrastinated. I really really wish that I had tried to be the valedictorian then. Having a long list of what's really true about me would be really helpful right now. Because, as hard as I have worked to really ground myself, to find myself, to pay attention, and to be fully myself at the beginning of all of this - right now I am feeling a little off balance and a bit worried I might not find my way back.

It's not unbearable - it's just that if I am going to come through this the way I would like to - well, then, the monsters simply can't be all there is.

I am going to need some butterflies too.

Grieving and Anticipating...

Sigh.

I have deliberately avoided blogging for the last week. I felt as though I needed to just leave this space here, for Mr. Jones, for me. I am finding myself heartbroken in little ways all throughout my day. I miss him terribly and yet can't shake the feeling he is always here. I keep looking for him, thinking I will walk into my room and find him curled up in our pillows. And then I remember.

I saw my counselor today. I had avoided all out crying for the most part since last week - until I saw her. Something about her presence has a way of undoing me at times. We talked about Mr. Jones and the lessons he gave me while he was here - which were always generally somewhere along the lines of "Pay attention - Right now" She suggested that maybe even in the timing of his passing he might still be trying to remind me to "pay attention" to something very important right now. So I am, I am paying attention - to this crazy and full time. Full of loss, full of anticipation, full of "to do"'s and "not yet"s... I am paying attention to how delicate and sacred this time feels, how fragile my heart is right now in the midst of it all - how my heart needs the space right now, and the permission, to both grieve very deeply and to anticipate fully. Because there is much on the way. I am paying attention to myself like I imagine a mother might pay attention to her wounded child. I am giving myself permission to feel very sorry for all that I am having to carry right now, all at the same time.

And I am listening to myself - to that small little voice inside, when she says she needs something.

Yesterday, she needed roses. And so, I found a deal on roses and bought myself 3 dozen roses. I am not usually drawn to roses but yesterday? Only roses would do. Bright, spring colored roses. Everywhere. Next to my bed. On the mantle. On the table. By the door.


I woke up this morning with roses on either side of my bed. I felt loved. And I smiled.

I may buy roses through this entire next month. There is just something about them.



I received my box of meds yesterday, as well (excuse me? I ordered the LARGE?) - I plan to post some pics of those tomorrow as the sheer volume of medications that are about to enter my body in the next 4-6 weeks is truly something to behold. But, in the spirit of true anticipation and my desperate need to be the honor roll IVF student - I bought a wall calendar! A giant wall calendar! To write all my meds on! In color coded permanent marker! (I swear I was an elementary teacher in a past life) Though, as excited as a trip to Off.ice De.pot, with money in my pocket to burn, would usually make me - I did have a near nervous breakdown. twice. The first time was because I suddenly panicked about all the money we are spending and, you know, how I don't have job right now? The second time was when the cashier almost refused to give me my FREE bonus package of photo paper with my purchase of a twin pack of printer cartridges. I literally almost started crying. Really. Because, you know - that photo paper costs money and shit! And she was being like, totally unfair. But I got my damn photo paper - and avoided a trip to the psych ward. again.

*and yes, I did glue those words to my calendar - I actually plan on adding a lot more, images and words - a collage really. all over my calendar. subliminal messages and such. *

Also yesterday, and don't worry I won't post a photo of this, I found a large gaping hole on my oldest dog's back. Apparently she had a little scuffle while I was out of town and Mr. Spicy had missed the wound when he checked her. I went into full-on protective momma meets ex-vet tech mode. Wanting to avoid the vet (just not ready to go back yet) - I hit the store and loaded up on supplies. Some predictable ones: betadine, triple antibiotic ointment, cotton balls. Some not so predictable ones: A book on Homeopathic pet care, a homeopathic remedy for trauma and injuries, herbal healing salve, tea tree oil, vitamin C, and cod liver oil. (and this is why I am the spicy sister) I am dangerous in a natural foods store - watch out! But, my regimen is working really well. In about 24 hours the wound has healed up about 50% and shows no signs of infection. It is giving my over-active nurturing side something to focus on, and she seems to enjoy the extra attention she is getting. Win win.

Speaking of being out of town - I left last Wednesday night to go see my grandmother. I took the overnight train. Which I really don't mind at all, in fact I kind of enjoy the solitary time with my I.pod and my thoughts. It was a hard trip, as we had just said good-bye to Mr. Jones that same day. But the time alone was really good. Once there, I stayed with my very hip 21 year old cousin and her boyfriend - who taught me to knit. Yes, her boyfriend taught me to knit. He's just that cool. I have wanted to learn for a long time, and it was a great creative outlet to focus on - especially on the train ride home. And the two of them? Truly adorable.

It was really good seeing my family. I was pretty sad and out of it most of the trip. But it was ok, because everyone there is dealing with their own stuff as well - so I didn't have to hide it, but I wasn't asked to talk about it either, which was perfect. And seeing my grandmother was really really good. I am so glad I went to visit her. She made us laugh - she told raunchy stories about her apparently "wild" past and she was tender and vulnerable at times in ways I have never seen her. At one point she hugged me in this way that a child hugs you, just collapsing into your arms - and my heart just broke for her. It is so hard for her right now. She is aware that she isn't her "normal" self - she knows she has had a stroke and it is affecting her. She gets frustrated when she can't think of or say the right words, you can tell she knows in her mind what they are, but they just aren't coming out. She is deeply resentful of the restrictions placed upon her in her current facility - no smoking, no TV in her room, no cell phone, no going outside. She is a fierce and independent woman who has had to give up most of what brings her joy - being told "no" so many times each day must be absolutely infuriating. Thankfully, my aunt who lives there is a powerful and compassionate advocate for her. She is working very hard to get her moved to a better place with more freedom and more of what she is used to. Especially, (as she is quick to remind us) the ability to smoke again.

She was doing really well the days I was there, and I am so grateful for that time with her. I was always visiting her with an entourage of other family members (my gramma is like the rock-star of the place) - children included, and it was really amazing to watch her interact with all of us. Especially the kids. She just adored them and loved on them completely. She even shared her chocolate brownie ice cream with them - now that is love.

And I loved seeing the kids too - my youngest cousin who is 9, my niece (and goddaughter) who is 8, and my nephew who is 3. There is just nothing that makes me smile and touches my heart more than these kiddos. They just continually amaze me. I could fill a whole separate entry up just with stories about how incredibly awesome all three of them are. Maybe I will some day.

Actually, there are so many stories I want to share here about my time with my family - but in the interest of length, suffice it to say that I have a really crazy and wonderful family and I am really grateful for every one of them. I am glad I belong to them.

Soooo - last but not least, also last Wednesday, I started my period. Or rather it started on its own, I don't think I had anything to do with it starting - at least not willfully. Which means two things. First - as Mr. Spicy sadly pointed out - we are all through with our chances to get pregnant on our own, that was our last chance. From here on out it is "go time". Second - as I just mentioned - it is "go" time. I started my BCPs (birth control pills) on Friday night. I will be on those for 16 days. I start Lupron on Tuesday, and I have my Laminaria placement on Wednesday. It is about to get really real here, very soon. We are really gonna do this. I could be pregnant by this time next month. Wow.

My counselor and I talked today about how the grieving I am doing, the loss I am experiencing - it is carving out a place in me, opening me up. Both of us were actually afraid to even say that we hope that the space that is being carved out, is for something very very good to come. Like, oh I don't know....a baby?

All I can say for sure is that the space is being carved. I am being opened up. And it hurts.

But I hope, oh I hope - that it will soon be filled with someone really really good.

Conspiring for her good....

I found out today that Grandma Penny has taken a turn for the worse. She has been readmitted to the hospital after being home with constant supervision for less than 2 weeks. My aunt has been working around the clock since she was allowed to go home. She has ensured that Grandma has had someone dependable and loving (usually my aunt) at her side 24 hours a day without exception. Unfortunately, Grandma is experiencing further mental deterioration and has become violent to others and has made threats to herself. So, she's back in the hospital until they can find a suitable facility for her.

All of us know that once she is in a facility she may just continue to deteriorate even further. I feel like we are losing her. It makes me so anxious not to be there with her and the rest of my family right now.

Initially, when she had the stroke, I thought I would wait until they knew more, until things had calmed down enough so that I wouldn't be in the way if I came out. Then, I wanted to come at a time when it would be best and most helpful for my aunt and everyone else. Now, I just want to be there. I want to see her.

My mom is heading there tomorrow to spend a week with her. I may go out after that. We are trying to figure out the timing and expense of it all. We will do whatever we need to. Of course.

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Ok, so here's where I might lose some of you....

I am thinking right now of an experience I had today. I was in an appointment with Shelley. She was leading me through a visualization of all the friends, all the family, all the healers, all the people in my life right now who are supporting me and walking with me through this journey towards motherhood. The people, my team, they were holding hands around me in a circle. Beyond that circle were literally hundreds of others: wise old women, women with full pregnant bellies, young women, and men too - from all over the world. There were also children, hundreds of children, and they were running in and out of the crowd of people. The children were diverse and absolutely beautiful - and they laughed and laughed as they played.

All of these people, all of them, were sending me blessings. They were all wanting for me, for us, what I myself have wanted for so long. I could see that all of them were working together for my good. I knew that the hundreds on the outside of the circle were connected to me - they are connected to my soul, either directly - or through their connection with those holding hands around me. Some of them are teachers, some are healers, some are spirit guides, some are angels, some are ancestors, some are just loving souls....but all are here to help me. To help us.

I am thinking of this right now because as I think of my Grandma and I think of her deterioration, her confusion, her anger, her loss of pieces of herself and I think how inside of it all she must feel so alone, so misunderstood.

I wish for her this image: That she would see all of us who love her, all who are praying, all the medical staff working on her behalf, all those who she has touched with her life - that she would see all of us surrounding her with arms entwined, creating a safe place for her, creating a place of peace. Then, just outside of this circle - I hope she sees all those who stand behind us, who love us, who have given us guidance and support and healing - and that she knows that all of us, all of us, all of us are sending her our blessings and peace ...

...all of us are conspiring for her good.

She is deeply loved.

Where we got our love of gossip mags and our snarky sense of humor from....

My grandmother had a stroke yesterday. I don't know a whole lot. I know she has memory loss. I know last night she didn't know who she was and didn't recognize my aunt or cousin. I know she is having trouble finding the right words when she speaks.

I am trying not to get too dramatic or overly catastrophic here, which is hard since my hormones are raging and I have been on the verge of crying all day.

My grandmother is the matriarch of my mother's side of our family. She raised 3 girls as a single mother in a time when that was nearly unheard of. She went through a divorce that left her wounded, and some might say bitter, for many years after. She is a chain-smoker, she eats chocolate like it is the ONLY food group, she religiously reads The Enquirer and watches crime shows on television. She does not knit, she does not bake, she does not put up with B.S.. She loves her children, her grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren fiercely. She is a force to be reckoned with. And she is partly the reason all of us "girls" can be so sarcastic, witty, snarky, and hilarious with one-another but will also fight with everything in us to protect one another or come to each other's defense. She is not perfect. She is a survivor. And we love her.

I don't know why exactly, because she has had many health issues in the last couple of years, but this stroke in particular, has really forced me to ask questions such as, "next time I see her, will she recognize me?", "Will she ever recognize me again?", "How much longer will we have with her?", "Why haven't I visited more, called more, been more involved?", "How many more chances will I have to reach out to her?", "Why have I taken her so much for granted all these years?"

I don't know what the right response is, I don't know what to do. She is OK for now, at least that is what I am hearing. If I lived close I could just go visit her, be with her, hold her hand, tell her I love her, but she is hundreds of miles away in another state and I don't even know if me visiting or being there would even be helpful at this point. I want to DO something, to make up somehow for all the times I didn't call or write or visit, for all the times I thought she would always be there and just took it for granted. But, there is no real way to make up for lost time. I need to remember this, remember her, remember to be grateful for her, for all her gifts and her faults, for who she is, good and bad, and I need to remember to never forget to tell her that I love her.

Grandma Penny, you are one of the strongest and most stubborn women I have ever known. I love you so much. I am praying for your healing and your comfort.