Category: meditation

dating, donor sperm, fertility, IUI, meditation, outdoors, ovulation, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

going with the flow

thesolomamaproject

Second dates are a huge tossup. They are the swing states. Remember when my most recent second date was a big No from the moment I saw him? Last night, I was texting the Moroccan from outside Jupiter to say I had arrived and asking where he was (it’s a big place) and I got his response “sur la terrasse” and was finishing an email to KC about hiking the Lost Coast when he walked up. And he was a big Yes.

I noticed after my last post that I described him as a “mysterious man of mystery,” so something in my unconscious and sleepy mind’s description of him revealed a perceived double mystery and wanted to know more. I said that I was feeling “go with the flow” on this one, not wildly excited but with a pleasant feeling. Last night, my heart skipped when I saw him. He gave me a big smile and a hug and walked me back to the table where he’d been waiting.

On the whole BART ride over, and really the whole previous two days, I was feeling AF was imminent, and I was starting to wish she’d just show up already so I could at least have a beer with my pizza. But she was still MIA, so I settled on hot tea given that we were technically outside and under a not very hot heat lamp.

To describe him: he’s tall, maybe 6’2″, dark, and…handsome. He has a gentle voice and a big smile. Speaks English flawlessly with only the tiniest errors in pronunciation and many Americanisms like “taking one for the team” (to explain his drinking beer when I wasn’t–I told him I was detoxing), and telling me about a friend from Idaho who was always teased with, “Who da ho?” and she’d have to answer, “I da ho.” He came to the US on an internship for Hilton and has worked seasonal jobs all over the country (including Mackinac Island, twice), was married to an American for a while in Salt Lake City (thus the green card), and when they split he was ready to move to SF, which he has always bookmarked as where he wanted to end up. He got here eight months ago, waits tables and works on his computer science degree, saying that all his previous jobs/cities were fun in the moment, and now he’s ready to stop being seasonal and build a future.

He’s solicitous, kind of mini-waiting on me as he confirms I’m happy with the table choice, the menu, the heat lamp, serving me my salad. He congratulated me on Obama (I congratulated him back even though he couldn’t vote). He wants to go running but doesn’t know where to go. He’s been researching meditation groups and exploring places around the Bay Area. He drives a ’97 Honda Civic. He plays guitar and jams with friends at his favorite bar in North Beach.

I felt myself leaning further and further forward in my chair as if I were eventually going to pounce on him. He paid the bill while I was in the ladies room (no AF still). We stepped outside and I assumed I would take BART home but he offered to drive me, claiming to be meeting up with friends later in the city. Whether or not this was true, I accepted. On the way to his car it was really freezing and he put his arm around me. In the car, he put on nice acoustic guitar music, blasted the heat, and then kissed me. It was the kiss I have dreamed of. We made out for a while, parked under a streetlamp on the Berkeley campus. He said he enjoys every minute with me.

I did not expect my going with the flow to take me to such a sweet and unexpected place! He drove me home. He tried, gently, jokingly, all possible angles, as guys will, to get me to invite him in, knowing that I wouldn’t but that I wanted to. I left him there and walked in to my building, feeling powerful, and where anxiety might rush in (what happens next? what if…? etc.), I instead remembered that, for now, I’m just looking for a guy to hang out with, and found one, and felt glad and grateful. I’ll see him again over the weekend.

Went to bed and woke up at 7 to use the bathroom, feeling AF had landed. And there she was. Going with the flow ends in flow.

Quoting from a poster photographed next to Obama at the Chicago campaign office, “The definition of hope is you still believe even when it’s hard.”

And it IS hard, made harder by the fact that I now have to skip a month while I’m out of town. Yes, I can make a case for it being a good idea–I haven’t taken a month off yet in 6 tries including 1 chemical pregnancy and 1 miscarriage. Yes, I’m about to start a medicated cycle and need to take a class first on how to give myself a shot (a class that isn’t offered in time for this cycle anyway). Yes, the next 6 weeks are stressful with work deadlines and holiday travel. I just can’t believe it will be Christmas before I can try again. It’s getting old. I’m coming up on the anniversary of my trip to the Grand Canyon where I shook hands with the universe. Even my dear readers seem tired. This isn’t how any of it was supposed to turn out.

But this is my story, this is my flow, this is my lazy river. This is it, this is where I am today. What can I do but keep floating along and trying and hoping and believing and enjoying my precious time on this earth, greeting all of its surprises with equanimity, all the disappointments and all the loveliness…

I will be Buddha in a kayak, breathing it all in.

biological clock, dating, IUI, meditation, outdoors, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

life

thesolomamaproject

IUI #6 happened Saturday and for the first time was done by a Eastern European male nurse practitioner who mechanically told me step by step what was happening and smiled at me like we shared a secret. I asked him how my cervix looked and he said, “normal.” (I was looking for something more like, “fertile.”) Notably, he told me to do whatever I wanted for the rest of the day, and I said, “Really? That’s the first time I’ve heard that.” He said there was nothing I could do to affect the outcome. I think he represented the most medical and least psychological perspective on this, and rather than going for a run afterward, I went home and took a nap.

That night, I went to dinner and a Halloween party as Zombie Cinderella. After borrowing the lovely costume (because it looked nice and was a quick and easy solution), I soon realized my error as I contemplated actually walking around the Mission in this un-ironic get-up. Not to mention the fact that this particular fairy tale irks me more than any of them, and so does Disney for fanning the flames of expectation among little girls who grow up dreaming of being rescued by the perfect man. Then we all learn the hard way that no man is perfect and no one can rescue you from yourself, and lives continue to unfold in all their glorious imperfections well beyond the happily ever after. I still believe I’ll find my Prince Charming, but he will be imperfect and our life together will have highs and lows, starting with the fact that I might be a member of the AARP by the time he gets here. Meanwhile, I stopped at Walgreen’s for zombie makeup and watched a YouTube video on how to achieve a “freshly dead” look, putting a new, irreverent spin on this iconic character, and it somehow worked. My poor friend who loaned me the costume and just married her Prince Charming mustered a, “Somehow you still look beautiful…”

The next day, I did a day-long retreat at Spirit Rock, focused on nature. The whole thing was outside, under a bough of trees in the golden hills and clear blue sky. We sat in a meadow as the sun rose behind our teacher through the trees, then moved to the other side at mid-day to stay in the shade, watching as the sun set behind him. In the middle, I took a big nap during the lunch hour. There was a woman there who resembled the girlfriend of a guy from my past and I was sending subconscious resentment her way without realizing it. Later, in the group of about fifty, she happened to be sitting next to me when it was time to get partners. One of us closed our eyes while the other led us around gently to something in the nature around us–a rock, a tree, etc.–and put our hands on it, letting us explore it for a while without using our sight. We were mostly silent or whispering or giggling as we went through this exercise which sounds so basic but is very sensual and bonding and exciting. I was so intrigued that this woman to whom I had attributed this tangle of hurt feelings turned out to feel like a friend and a sister as we walked together arm in arm like Helen Keller and Ann Sullivan. I felt truly awakened by that experience–compassion, connection, loving-kindness.

Then we won the World Series, again! Unlike two years ago when I was out partying in the streets, I was asleep by 10 despite the cars honking and revelry outside. Then the hurricane stopped everything coming out of New York and I am totally catching up on work (and hoping all my east coast friends are doing fine).

Meanwhile, Baseball Guy from Friday night hasn’t called, which is unexpected considering how I thought it went, but you just never know with people, do you? The Moroccan is back, texting up a storm, but we can’t ever seem to coordinate on a time that works for both of us because he works evenings. And, introducing Mr. Hawaii, who found me online almost a year ago–we became facebook friends which is usually a mistake but in this case has allowed me to get to know him passively over time, and he feels like an old friend. He’s a naturopathic doctor. He just emailed me that he’s coming to SF after Thanksgiving! So…finally we will meet.

Meanwhile, I’m considering giving up dating for a while. Can I just can the whole thing and be content with my friends and family and work and my maybe-zygote? Is it time for a guy-atus?

acupuncture, anxiety, dating, donor sperm, meditation, outdoors, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait, writing

commence week 2

thesolomamaproject

I assume I’m pregnant. But in a disconnected, almost blasé way–I seem to have merged being in the wait with being in early pregnancy: it’s all tentative until it’s confirmed. So, I perceive some symptoms and yet catch myself moments before plunging into the hot tub (thankfully, L keeps hers at 98 degrees). I find myself going over my food consumption in retrospect, when it would already be too late. If I’m lucky, I will remember not to have a margarita after work.

I like this new, disconnected merged feeling and hope it lasts. I feel like I’m right where I thought I’d be and wished I was on try #1, like, “Yeah, whatever, you know, it can take a while so we’ll see what happens.” Instead, I was myopic in the worst way, absolutely consumed with every minute detail, and now I think: yeah. Maybe sometime between now and the end of the year, *yawn*. I transported 3 vials to UCSF: one for October, one for November, one for December. And then we’ll celebrate a year since my big decision in the Grand Canyon and Rio-valuate.

I spent a lovely 24 hours in San Jose over the weekend, but otherwise felt kind of aimless. My acupuncturist recommended not running for a few days and just telling me that is a recipe for going stir crazy. I ended up doing a burly urban walk to the top of Twin Peaks:

Image

I find it intriguing that the photo is off-balance, because I was feeling off-balance. Stressed about work, mad and frustrated about my Good Match being so delayed, wondering when it’s all going to come together and make sense. Being on top of Twin Peaks makes me think a lot about one of my exes. The walk down made me think about another one. I passed my therapists’s house. It sure is a journey.

I got a mani/pedi. A hugely prego woman sat next to me and I vibed with her silently. I sat on the roof and wrote in my journal in the sunshine as the Blue Angels swooped around overhead. I bought veggies and made a delicious stir fry with quinoa.

I listened to Pema, who always says the right thing. This time, it was to remember to cradle your poor anxious self in gentle lovingkindness. I decided to do my tomorrow self the enormous favor of setting out clothes, packing a gym bag, getting the coffee ready and the oatmeal and the vitamins. It was a nice gentle favor and my day was full, ending with another lovely tea with T. Now I need to do myself the favor of going to bed.

I love this time of the month where my views start to skyrocket because you’re all checking for news. It makes me feel very loved and looked after, thank you.

I will end with one last piece of news for which I am profoundly grateful: totally totally totally randomly, gay bf J will be back in town precisely when I will be testing, for the 3rd time in a row!!!!!! This is just cosmic. You couldn’t plan it. None of this turned out the way I expected, but you know what? I’ll take it.

nighty night, peeps xo

dating, meditation, running, writing

quietness and escape

thesolomamaproject

In bed post-work day, post-run, post-burrito, post-bath. It’s 8:49pm. I had intended to keep working this evening but just gave in to the need to rest my brain and write and get some extra sleep.

To pick up where I left off, the phone call cleared everything up and made me like the Artist even more. I felt so silly when I re-read my reactive tough-girl emails now that I could see his true intention. A mini-misunderstanding, a mini-outburst, and a mini-resolution. Afterward, he said he found this ‘strangely encouraging.’

My behavior is new and fits with my new no-bullshit attitude. Just enough anger to cause a messy little scene plus trigger its resolution. I got perilously close to dismissing him altogether (and probably vice versa). I’m on the right track here.

Meditation was well-timed last night. I felt so wound up and totally un-grounded and worn out and stressed. I slowed the F down. I sat. Thoughts and fantasies and fear and wonder spun through my brain and spiraled on until I got quiet. And then, at the dharma talk, I heard this:

Quietness

Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.

Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.

Escape.

Walk out like somebody suddenly born into color.

Do it now.
You’re covered with thick cloud.
Slide out the side.

Die,
and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign
that you’ve died.

Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.

The speechless full moon
comes out now.

– Jelaluddin Rumi

When Howie recited these last lines, I was left breathless. “The speechless full moon”–so poignant, so how we always find it there. I saw it there tonight, hanging speechless in the lavender sky, above the fog.

And the running from silence–we do, we do, we do.

Meditation is an escape, but you’re not running ahead of a pack of wolves; you’re still, you’re silent, you’re (in the poem) dead. You’re peaceful. Who doesn’t crave this?

Today, there was an uproar on facebook over what seems to be an untrue rumor that old private messages were now showing up as public wall posts. Everyone, including me, freaked out. Before I could really evaluate what was there, I erased it all. And I felt mad at this entity that connects us and yet controls us. The type of escape that’s great in moderation but over time becomes addictive, that eats up free time, that can leave you feeling less-than. Running from silence.

Then Pema Chodron posted this (on facebook!):

RENOUNCE ONE THING

“For one day (or one day a week), refrain from something you habitually do to run away, to escape. Pick something concrete, such as overeating or excessive sleeping or overworking or spending too much time texting or checking e-mails. Make a commitment to yourself to gently and compassionately work with refraining from this habit for this one day. Really commit to it. Do this with the intention that it will put you in touch with the underlying anxiety or uncertainty that you’ve been avoiding. Do it and see what you discover.”
(From Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change)

For me, for now, my ‘one thing’ is facebook. I’m doing a terrible job of renouncing it (even just went there to get the quote!) but I’ll keep trying until I can get it to unlock its grip. Slide out the side.

I’ll see him again tomorrow night. Early dating is feeling much like early pregnancy; the mantra is: don’t get too excited. Stay grounded.

He came up with a good second date: Nightlife at the Academy of Science (theme: fungi) followed by one of my favorite bars with fancy bourbon drinks. But not too many.

Become the sky.

dating, donor sperm, meditation, single mom by choice, SMC

jumping the gun

thesolomamaproject

I’m pretending today is a sick day so I can just stay home in my pajamas and catch up on my to-do list. Today’s innovative strategy for tackling the list is to integrate work and personal tasks so that it looks like this: “breakfast, meditation, email B re: gifts, write card to D and J, assemble work to-do list, blog, clean closet floor, install shoe rack, do symposium agenda… ” etc (that’s only half of it). So far, so good.

Yesterday was a really good day that ended with email drama. I came home from the date wanting to blog all-caps WE LIKE THE ARTIST! but I restrained myself since I was then off to a bowling birthday party (good lord do I suck at bowling) which pretty much took me up through bedtime. The drama was related to an email that followed the date, which resulted in the kind of email fail for which email is world-renowned.

After parking coincidentally adjacent to my sperm bank, I showed up at the appointed meeting spot to find that the Artist is tall and cuter than his single online photo in which he’s doing kind of a half-scowl. I felt comfortable right away, we settled on a brunch place and had such a good conversation in line that people around us were chiming in. We sat outside–it was absolutely gorgeous and hot in the sun. He’s interesting and earnest and whenever he touched on something personal he had this way of bookmarking it as such and then taking a step back from it and then asking more about me.

We finished up lunch and went around the corner to the Center for the Book street fair called Roadworks where they were pressing linoleum cut tiles with an actual steamroller, kind of a cool gimmicky thing to promote printmaking and the crowd gave a huge round of applause every time a new print was lifted up and displayed.

We strolled, I bought a journal and a card, he bought a gorgeous print of redwood trees for his parents for $200. Afterward, I walked with him to his new Prius he bought the night before so I could check out the differences with my 6-year old one (there are many), he drove me to my car, I gave him a hug and he said he’d call me.

Then he sent this cryptic email that I shared with C in the bowling alley in an effort to understand its point. It was about whether or not I’d looked at the art website he shared with me via email like a week before, with all of his paintings, sketches, etc. I had seen the site and been genuinely impressed with it–but between emails and our live conversation it just didn’t come up. I perhaps jumped to the conclusion that he was accusing me of committing a crime by not specifically addressing it, and that this was some type of nutso dealbreaker for him, which got my hackles up. So my last response was like, “I can’t believe you’re calling me out on this after such a nice time…what am I missing??” And then he just called.

Now that I’ve listened to his calm, rational voice on my voicemail it all kind of makes sense again and I feel like a dork. Probably I jumped the gun. C will tell you though–the original email was weird. He says he just wondered if I missed it originally because he’d sent 2 emails in a row–he wanted to share it, not scold me for not mentioning it. He tried to make it lighter and flirty in his next email (which actually made it worse), which is why he picked up the phone because I sounded upset and he wanted to explain. And see me again.

Sigh! Why is dating so complicated. Am I just going to jump on every hint of odd behavior, assuming there are mountains of oddities behind it? Is my baggage piled so high that it’s a fortress? Can we all just get along?

Even as I peer in on the woes of my friends in the kinds of long-term, committed relationships I aspire to be in, I see that even the best of them are full of really enormous challenges at one time or another. And sometimes it’s non-stop challenging. Just another one of those life arenas where you never really “get there,”and it truly is about the journey. (I’m feeling grateful right now to have separated the dating journey from the mama journey–theoretically, at least, it helps to simplify.)

So, in an effort to continue learning about myself, and maybe also him, I’m backing away from the keyboard and picking up the phone.

dating, meditation, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC

and the winner is…

thesolomamaproject

I wasn’t so sure how my performance review was going to go today, given that I’ve had this very all-consuming solo mama project rolling alongside my formidable work responsibilities since the beginning of this year. It went quite well, actually, better than expected. I didn’t have to say I’m “going through some personal issues,” in order to keep the train on the tracks. I had the line ready (or even: “I’m going through some health issues,” if it was really bad), but I didn’t need it. It was a much more positive review overall than I expected, which is great since my manager will be one of my travel companions in Brazil. So now the trip doesn’t have to be horribly awkward with me giving her the evil eye over our caipirinhas. And we’ve agreed not to breathe a word about work while we’re down there = an awesome idea that will preserve the integrity of our vaca and friendship.

Considering the effort I’ve had to put in to keeping everything rolling without overly puffy eyes or sneaky non-drinking or coming in late or leaving early or making everyone wonder if I have a terminal illness because of so many doctor’s appointments…I’m going to have to file this one under Enormous Victory.

“How are you doing?” say my friends. Each time, I take a deep breath and pause. The answer is always different–depending on the moment and who I’m talking to.

To you, right now, I say, “Better.” It’s variable but there’s an overall healing trend, no doubt about it. I’m fine and then I sit down at a dharma talk and get a glimpse of the teacher’s face and there are tears streaming, streaming, streaming. And I sit. And when I try to open my eyes 45 minutes later, my eyelashes are glued together with tears. And when the teacher asks for examples of kindness, a woman tells a story of a friend whose neighbor lost her baby. The grieving mother was in seclusion. This woman’s friend wanted to do something for her, so she went around the neighborhood and took photos, on her knees, from the perspective of a stroller. Then she made a book of the photos of the baby’s perspective during his short life. Everyone in the room had tears streaming then.

And I came out feeling better from letting the emotions and thoughts and tears flow.

Later that night I had my first phone call with the paramedic. He really makes me laugh. It also turns out that he doesn’t take just regular old 911 calls but works “the baby car,” meaning he helps newborns, infants, and toddlers. (*sob*) We planned out the first couple months of our relationship already, which certainly breaks every rule and probably dooms our prospects. But I will still show up for dinner on Saturday.

And now I’m going to have cocktails to celebrate today’s City Hall wedding of dear friend B and his new wife, M!!! Love and blessings to these two. I am excited to see some of my oldest and best friends at the celebration.

Finally, the results of the shoe search. Thanks to everyone who sent links to gorgeous and fabulous shoes!!! How much fun was that! We’re totally doing this again.

J won with silver in the end. He said, “You don’t want to be the gringa in the pink shoes.” It was important to him that my outfit looked planned and matching, and I take his advice very seriously. Basically, he is never wrong when it comes to fashion. These lovelies will show up tomorrow. Cheers!

Image

acupuncture, anxiety, meditation, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC

suspended

thesolomamaproject

Hi guys. It’s been a tough week to find the time to write or even know what to write. I even have to make this post quick, since I have to pack for a wedding and jet off to work.

I’ll start by saying that so far everything is OK so far–I know my last post scared some people who had to speed read to the end. Everything, as far as I know, is OK. I am OK.

After sending a query back to Olga about the vastly different response I got from her vs. the other nurse, she sent this:

Hi Katie,
When I read the note it said intrauterine pregnancy but I overlooked that it said no fetal pole. It is still very early in the pregnancy so we should definitely have more information at your next ultrasound on 8/6. 6 weeks is very early and the pregnancy can definitely develop as time passes. I will keep my fingers crossed for your next ultrasound. By 8/6 they should see a fetal pole and a heartbeat. Keep positive and keep me posted. Thanks! Olga

Olga kills me. I try to have a sense of humor about her, but sending a congrats before reading the full note is not excellent care.

The day after my ultrasound, I found out my tentative business trip to Chicago was confirmed for next week and I would need to fly to Chicago the same day as ultrasound #2, as in go straight to the airport directly from UCSF. I knew that would just be too much stress. I decided to meditate on it at meditation group and also sleep on it. By the morning, I had decided to put off my ultrasound #2 by one more week.

I know it sounds kind of bananas since, of course, I am dying to know. But I want to go back when the result will be conclusive and no sooner–no more messing with my head over the chances of what may or may not be. My new appointment is 8/13 at 8.5 weeks with the nurse practitioner (and not the mean doc, thank goodness). Since I’ll be right across the lake from my parents, I decided to take the 55 min flight from Chicago to Manistee to work from their house on Thursday and Friday and spend the weekend here:

It all came together and I felt so relieved. As a final cherry on top: yesterday, work circumstances determined that J will be flying in from NY on Monday to assist me with the presentation–he might even pick me up from the airport. I’ll be surrounded by love and distraction the whole time.

And, even before that, a big wedding weekend 1.5 hours from SF with great friends–I’m leaving this afternoon for the rehearsal. And before that a lot of work to finish. And packing. These things woke me up at 4am and played on a ticker tape until I figured out the order that everything needs to get done, decided what I won’t have time to do or what will have to be put off until Sunday (too much), and went back to sleep. I’ve been waking up at 4am or 5am regularly. My acupuncturist can feel the stress and light sleep in my pulse. He is so unimpressed with UCSF care and wished I could get the second ultrasound sooner just to get my body off this stress spiral. But…it just isn’t possible (unless I can’t stand it anymore and schedule something in Traverse City, not impossible).

As with trying to telepathically detect signs of pregnancy, I am detecting signs of which direction this is going, and I’m not going to drag you along on that paranoid and bumpy road. The speculation is the unbearable part and gets us nowhere. The jury is truly still out.

My #1 job right now is to reduce stress where possible, be kind to myself, meditate at every single opportunity. try to make all these planning, packing, working steps easy. Decide what to not to do. Everyone encourages me to stay positive and I am really, really trying. It’s the biggest roller coaster yet.

I am a strong and powerful person.

meditation, outdoors, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

countdown

thesolomamaproject

Back on the balcony, this time at 5:30pm. These summer days on the western edge of of the Eastern Standard Time zone are luxuriously long; the sun is still high in the sky but beginning to veer toward the west, creating familiar sparkles on the surface of the lake and causing me squint at my laptop screen under an umbrella. My dad is dozing in a nearby chair.

Today, my sister and her family took off at mid-day to head home. The almost-4yo has never been a fan of saying good-bye (who is?), and typically when she was younger would start pointedly ignoring you just prior to your departure. You’d ask her a question and she’d give you a hard stare and then go back to whatever she was doing as if you didn’t exist. Understandable.

Today was the first time I saw her acknowledge and manage her feelings a bit. She was mercurial all morning, and then came up to me with wide eyes and a small voice and said, “I’m going to miss you, KK.” Cue my heart breaking. The baby was bursting with smiles going off like fireworks and we all cried in the parking lot as they drove away.

Now that the little people are gone, we’ll segue into more big people activities like watching movies and swearing and hiking and reading. We made a trip to the library this afternoon to drop off all the kids books and pick up more books than I can possibly read between now and Thursday, especially since I’m working from here M-W, but the idea is to continue to relax and keep the work integrated with lots of sunshine and cool breezes.

It occurred to me yesterday that I always keep a countdown clock in my head while vacationing up here (panicked: how many days left?!), so that the end doesn’t have the chance to sneak up. I love being here and if I could slow down time, I would. I think I noticed this more explicitly because the Vacation Countdown (which makes time speed up) has now merged with the even more relentless Days Past Ovulation Countdown (which makes time slow down), and the latter is winning. Even though I’m having fun, time isn’t flying because I’m in the two week wait! My vacation is actually going slower! Win!

I’m on Day 25, so it’s anyone’s guess what happens next. I’m enough of a veteran now to not even hint at any symptoms since it’s either this or that and we don’t know yet. My intuition says yes, my intuition says no, my intuition says, “Don’t trust your intuition.” But I remain optimistic, because, shoot, why not? (And, no, I apparently haven’t gone back to swearing yet.)

So, the challenge is to be in the moment in the midst of the countdown. Isn’t this always the challenge? My mom and I have pledged to start doing our daily meditation now that the little ones are gone and we’re not just eating up every second of being with them. Meditation always slows things down and reconnects you to you and ensures that you come back from vacation with a true reset.

We just got back from kayaking down the Crystal River, a shallow, winding river with a gentle, almost imperceptible current. When you get your kayak pointed in the right direction, you can close your eyes and all of a sudden you’re hearing the wind in the trees and your parents’ paddles dipping in the water and the buzzing of dragonflies and, for just a moment, you don’t even feel yourself moving forward. That’s me, as much as possible, for the next few days. And always.

Strength and patience to all those waiting!

acupuncture, meditation, outdoors, pregnancy loss, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

snapshots

thesolomamaproject

I am sleepy but at least wanted to say a couple of things tonight. In bullets. Because I’ve had a long workday and don’t know whether I can coherently collect my thoughts otherwise.

  • On Saturday, I went to get a pedicure with an SMC friend and it was so perfect because we could just nod at each other wide-eyed and say, “I know.” What is more comforting than that? I usually pick a dark burgundy but that day I went with a neon pink-orange. I stare at my toes fondly when my shoes are off.
  • My sister came over for dinner on Saturday night–I ordered a pizza and she showed up with kale and coconut water and mint chocolate cookie Ben & Jerry’s. I cried to her but the intensity of the sadness was waning. We also laughed–she told me stories about my nieces in Baltimore, like when almost-four-year-old E piped up at the table, “This lunch is FASCINATING!”
  • On Sunday, I took my 3-inch roots and too-long hair to the salon for a much-needed cut/color. I had her cut off 2 inches, trim the layers, and go back to my natural color FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE COLLEGE. This is a big deal. I started coloring my hair at age 21, going for an artificial raspberry but ending up with something that looked natural. For years, I used henna, then graduated to salons and color experimentation (strawberry blonde, red red, black cherry). And now, I’m a brunette. A bit golden brown with the lighter color peeking through, but to me it looks dark. To me, it looks like I am me. And it feels really important, like I am owning the me that was always underneath. Getting to know her in a new context. She likes bright nail polish.
  • It will be/is revolutionary to think about not having to worry about roots. I have been chasing them for 17 years! Also, I will save a lot of money. It’s kind of ridiculous that I’m stopping just in time to go gray. But I’m not gray yet, so let’s just watch it appear gradually like the sunrise.
  • Yesterday, I met my friend and trainer R for a regular training session. It was the first time since the day I got the positive test at the gym. I found myself back in all the same spots for the first time since that day: the bathroom stall where I peed on a stick, the back office where we jumped up and down. I was a little melancholy through the workout.
  • At the end of the session, I asked R if he had a client after me, and he said no. So I said,mockingly offended, then why aren’t you running with me? And he trumped me with: I am! Ha HA! So we ran! Through the glorious and glowing city at 6pm with the sun high in the sky, along the Embarcadero (first time running there since falling 2 weeks ago), along Mission Bay, up Potrero Hill (to the top), checking out the killer views and fancy houses, exploring around, back down through UCSF, 1.5 hours. God, I needed that run. Running renews me like nothing else. Grateful to R for making it happen and acting like he was going to surprise me all along whereas I sensed he decided on the spot. He knew I needed it and I think he needed it too after his first Father’s Day without his dad. It was a magical run.Image
  • Afterward, I met an old friend for dinner. Or, he drank tea while I ate several plates of food and drank pitchers of water and tea after all the miles I ran. I have found that while the whole SMC gig can be difficult for guys to understand (thus the cross-eyed look until they have time to process), every human I’ve spoken to about my brief but joyful pregnancy totally gets it and says all the right things.
  • Today is Day 7 already: I did therapy, acupuncture, meditation. Dr. Tran tomorrow. I am feeling better.
meditation, outdoors, pregnancy loss, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

moving through

thesolomamaproject

First, thanks to everyone who has called, emailed, texted, or come over to pull me off the couch. I realized today that I’ve been accepting calls but not initiating them, so if I haven’t called you back, it’s because I would probably cry anew each time and I feel like I’ve achieved some equilibrium. I really appreciate that you called. I heard from every single person I expected to hear from (even noticed a couple missing…hmm, what about C and the W’s…and then checked my work voicemail and there they were). I quite literally could not do this without you and have no idea how anyone does it with any less than an army of supporters!!! I am a very lucky girl.

For the last two meeting-filled work days, I kept up a minimum of productivity while working from home. At the end of the last meeting yesterday, I felt like I had just limped/crawled across the finish line of the work week and collapsed on the couch for a deep and disorienting two-hour nap.

I had dinner plans with my friend I. and her call came in when I was just emerging from deep, dark couch slumber–her idea was to go to the Cheesecake Factory followed by retail therapy at the mall. At first I was like, “Do you know who I am?” (i.e. a snob who hates shopping) but, somehow, the suggestion was kind of perfect. I tried to picture the polar opposite–the two of us sharing a bottle of wine in the dim corner of some neighborhood ethnic restaurant and somehow that was terrible. I just saw myself crying into the wine glass. Bring on the crowds, pumping music, uber-sized portions, and Union Square.

Of course, after two dinner-sized appetizers, we didn’t need dinner at all. That place is ridiculous. Two beers and I was soused. We then did some dress shopping for Rio (fun). My friend I. is a very matter-of-fact person–she’s a scientist, a commitment-phobe, and on the less emotional end of the spectrum–a good reflector of rationality. She empathized and remains greatly hopeful for my chances. She also has an older sister who just went through yet another failed round of IVF (several times, she has carried to 8 weeks, then miscarried).

Someone always has it worse, which is good perspective. But it doesn’t mean that whatever level of sadness you’re going through is any less real.

I feel the weight of it today because it’s Saturday and a lot of my plans have evaporated and I don’t have to keep my chin up for any reason. I have the usual boring shit to do: work I let slip last week, clean up, postpone jury duty, finally make a hair appointment as it has gotten out-of-control long with 3-inch roots. I absolutely need to get outside for a run. Then dinner with my sister (cue the waterworks).

I got Olga on the phone yesterday. She said something like, “there’s no way to know without having done the blood test earlier,” since, apparently, in her world, nothing really happens unless it is reflected in data from the lab. But she relented that it was likely a chemical pregnancy and I told her how important it is to me to know that my body is capable of getting pregnant, and she maybe got it, a little bit. I recognize that she was just the messenger, so we’ll leave it there.

More importantly, I am looking ahead. I have an appointment with my RE, Dr. Tran, on Wednesday to discuss my options for round 4. By then, I will be almost peeing on a stick.

And even more importantly than that, I just bought a ticket for two weeks on Lake Michigan with my family, best place on earth to endure the two week wait.