it’s still my life

I play Draw Something with my almost 5-year-old niece on the other side of country, and I’ve noticed that she’ll often start drawing something and erase it and start over and then erase that and then start over. She usually gets it by the third try, her human figures consistently tall triangles with tiny heads, two eyes, and one thin line making an upside-down U, depicting long hair. I think this is my third try getting this blog post started. Let’s stick with this one.

I had a productive day which started with a smoothie made of peanut butter, açai, spinach, banana, berries, chia seeds, protein powder, and coconut milk, and a run with my trainer at 7:15am as the sun rose over the bay. I was bursting with congratulations to myself for making such a fabulous thing happen–every time I actually get it together to do an early morning workout I feel like a genius for the entire day. I am plowing through to-do lists at work as the lists continue to expand. I feel mostly competent, sometimes inspired, frequently ineffectual. Tonight I worked till 7:30 and left the office with my eyes feeling heavy.

One burrito and one West Wing episode later and I am yawning on the couch.

A friend asked me today where I am on the IVF schedule and I checked the calendar and the answer was “3.5 weeks.” Goodness gracious this is taking a long time. I think time is slowing down. I remember back when everything happened in two-week increments, which was positively breakneck speed compared to IVF. One of my cycle buddies who had her retrieval the day before mine and did a fresh transfer will be 10 weeks pregnant by the time I have my transfer, if my math is right.

Still, it’s weird not to have anything much to do or think about related to fertility. I looked up at the clouds tonight and thought I saw the number 5. I want to mentally commune with them but it all feels so virtual.

I’ve made a whole bunch of plans. First, I’m going to NYC on Sunday. It’s a very packed week with some quite exciting projects in the works. Sometimes when I go to NYC I hardly tell any close friends I’m there because I’m so  busy I don’t want to max myself out or flake on anybody. Well, this is going to be one of those trips where I’m going to see everyone. It feels like a good time to just go for it.

Then on Friday, I’ll transition into peace and quiet. Last night, I started searching around for a meditation retreat for the holiday weekend since Palm Springs is a no-go. These are so hard to get in to–you have to plan months and months ahead. Seems like me and my friend KC are always deciding less than a month beforehand that a certain retreat is perfect and we get our hearts set on it and then by the time we call it’s all booked.

So, imagine my surprise when I called to find that they had one small room left, for me.  This retreat will be a mix of yoga, meditation, vegetarian meals (they are known for their fresh baked bread), long breaks for naps and hikes. Tea and books. Fog and trees. No cell service. 20 minutes from SF and folded into the wilderness. The perfect homecoming at a reflective and transitional time.

My therapist reminded me that although it’s a transitional time, it’s still my life.

With that, I’m going to transition right off this page and into bed. good night