Category: pregnancy

dating, depression, donor sperm, fertility, IUI, outdoors, ovulation, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, writing

patience child

thesolomamaproject

Good morning, friends! We’ve made it out of a prolonged cold snap and now I’m sitting on my couch with the window open, sweet morning air and warm sunshine flowing in. I love this time of year when the sun rises further south and stays lower all day long, beaming its warm light into my apartment throughout the day.

Sunshine improves my mood measurably. I’m a Leo, ruled by the sun, and have always sensed my connection to my master planet since I was a child in Michigan fantasizing about flying above the seemingly ever-present clouds. On cloudy and especially rainy days, I wanted all the lights on in the house. In the Bay Area, I finally bought a car so I could blast out of the fog into summertime sun just 20 minutes away. I track the angles of the sun from hopeful morning beginnings to nostalgic late afternoons, revering the golden light of California glowing in the redwoods and the eucalyptus trees, noting how it represents both the passage of time and the timelessness of nature. I think about this a lot, every day.

As the world turns, so does my cycle #8 forge onward. I had my Day 10 ultrasound on Friday and found myself feeling disconnected at the appointment, barely listening or asking questions. I gather that there is one dominant follicle this time, measuring 14mm, with two slightly smaller ones that could catch up, measuring 10mm and 11mm. Or 11 and 12, I didn’t write it down. She said I’m about a day behind where I was last cycle at this time, which makes sense because I started the Clomid one day later, on Day 3. My lining is fine. So, trigger Monday and IUI Wednesday.

I also transported my third batch of guys over to UCSF last week, extremely awkwardly trying to juggle phone meetings with driving, picking up, parking, interfacing with office people, driving, parking, picking up, etc. I basically pulled it off but did at one point find myself illegally parked, having to pee, and waiting for the nurse to come take the box while managing a work phone call (again). Here they are:

kkc

Why “Dry Wall Shipper,” I have no idea. I also still have no clue why the box is so huge for three tiny sperm vials, but I will also likely never see inside the box to understand its inner workings.

While at PRS, I learned that McPiercy only has 5 vials remaining, forever. I’ve been sitting on this for a few days… I now own 3, but should I have more as backup, in the event that either this takes much longer than expected or I want vials in storage for a possible sibling? I’m not sure yet, but am hoping that on some subconscious level, the procrastinator in me will realize that we’re getting down to the true last minute and kick into gear: my 40th birthday is approaching and it’s time for this to work!

I have a cycle buddy in England whom I’ve gotten to know via her blog–it looks like we’ll both go in on the same day next week. Here is her blog: Single Motherhood by Choice. You must scroll through and check out her posts from Ovarian HQ–a photoshop of her ultrasounds with follicles as the main characters. I especially love the cheerleading squad, it makes me LOL.

Lately I’m having a hard time expressing how I’m doing when friends check in. It’s such a messy stew of emotions, it’s hard to say, I’m doing fine! or I’m depressed! or I want to give up! or I’m optimistic! even though I may feel all of these things at one time or another. I’m not sure if I’ve really processed chemical pregnancy #3 or if I need to. My frustration spills over into frustration with dating because these two life categories come together into one frustration snowball when they’re not working. If my heart isn’t totally in it this time, I think that’s fair. Pink has a new song called “Try” and it’s very repetitive and kind of brainwashed me yesterday while driving across the Bay Bridge. You’ve gotta get up and try, try, try. Over and over. It’s the only way it’s going to work.

Report on New Year’s Resolutions thus far: I am doing awesome. I’m undercommitting like a pro (I realized I already was). I’m getting outside and exploring new hiking spots. I’m writing almost every day. And I’m really close to being on time: I’ve narrowed my typical lateness window from 10 minutes to 2. Next: be early.

Last week, after my 2.5 hr run with R, I texted him to see why he hadn’t yet posted the photos he took of me along the run. He texted back “patience child.”

A good reminder for me. Patience…

Try, try, try.

 

anxiety, biological clock, dating, donor sperm, fertility, IUI, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

clarity

thesolomamaproject

This is my 100th post. I feel exactly as committed to the solo mama project as I ever was. Even before I consciously decided, this mission was bigger than me, bigger than the Grand Canyon.

I remember reading my friend B’s blog after her first IVF didn’t work, scanning frantically for signs of hope. I couldn’t bear to see her lose hope, and when the first ray of light came through a few posts later, I breathed a sigh of relief. She’ll keep going, thank God. I knew she would get there.

Of course I am war weary. I’ve weathered some dark terrain. What is so mind-blowing to me so far is that I keep bouncing back. I keep putting one foot in front of the other, marching through the steps. Clomid for 5 days. Sperm transport. Ultrasound. IUI. Reminds me of the imagery of this Gotye video  Your Heart’s a Mess I’m on a difficult and unrelenting expedition, trekking through a murky world, joined in solidarity by a cast of quirky characters (that’s you).

Today, the paramedic resurfaced, apologizing for Cuddlegate and begging for another chance. A few days ago, a problematic friend I had a falling out with two years ago wrote to say she wants to get back in touch. To them both, I say no. There’s a part of me that misses them. But the part of me that shut them out of my life is now guarding the door like a bouncer. I am stronger.

Tonight, I was finishing up the black bean and hominy polenta recipe my sister D recommended (delicious) and watching the now-famous Jodie Foster Golden Globe speech (I thought it was lovely and not too crazy), when my Skype phone rang on my iPad which could only mean that A was calling from Colombia. She reminded me that the love you seek is already here. And, as a new mom, she recognized the single-minded focus of my ttc process as the precursor to what she is now experiencing as motherhood. Which makes me feel much more connected to the bigger picture rather than spinning my wheels.

As I was talking to her on the Skype phone (without video, because I have a first generation iPad that will crash), a comment popped up before my eyes from my friend C: “I just KNOW that your body can do this. It’s your mind that has to stay strong…and you have more strength than most people I know. Translation- you’re gonna be a mama. It’s just a matter of time.”

Now: it can be really hard to hear “it’s going to happen” when something isn’t happening. But what choice do I have but to believe and believe hard that my will of steel combined with the wonders of assisted reproductive technology and the oceans of love offered to me from this community will all add up to bring my baby into this world?

The women who’ve been through more losses, more unsuccessful tries, more expense and devastation: they are here commenting, they are pregnant, they are moms. They inspire me to keep going “no matter how rocky it gets.”

I realize now that last year’s new year’s resolution was to get pregnant. Careful what you wish for: I got pregnant three times. This year’s resolution: to have a baby.

I have thrown myself into fitness over the past few days, this chemical pregnancy’s equivalent of a bender. I went to boot camp. I ran for 2.5 hrs. I trained with my trainer this morning and will hit the climbing gym later this week. My body is strong and it’s making important decisions for me. I’m not in charge–it’s up to the lightning bolt in the sky and the mysterious inner workings of my biology. All I do is pop two Clomid and try not to overly stress.

As I get ready to post this, a comment pops up from A on my iPad: “Watch this before you post.” And now I’m in tears and it’s the perfect ending.

 

biological clock, fertility, IUI, meditation, ovulation, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

the plan

thesolomamaproject

After my last post, I dove into work headfirst. I made the rounds to my few work friends to let them know that my good news from the night before was reversed. They were ready to prop me up if I needed it. All the comments on the blog and texts made for bittersweet reading, everyone so incredulous…we thought that was the one, didn’t we? It took a matter of hours for the news to sink in, a process of syncing my conscious brain with what my body already knows, a process I have now gone through three times.

In the most painful moments of absorbing bad news, it is tempting to stop hoping, to lose faith, to really want to give up. It makes sense; if you burn yourself on a hot pan, you reflexively pull your hand and probably your whole self away from the source of the pain. How could I be so phenomenally unlucky…maybe this wasn’t meant to be. Maybe I will land, against all odds, on the wrong side of the odds, every time. Maybe the doctors will observe me as a medical mystery, not able to sustain a pregnancy and no one knows why. Maybe this is not my path.

When these voices get going, it is so reassuring to hear friends counteract them: “Don’t lose hope.” “Thinking of you.” “Sorry the process is so difficult.” “Just know that you are inspiring.”

I am proud that I didn’t fall apart or even halfass the conference–I did my job, I smiled, I stepped outside for five minutes of fresh air. I went on a group run the morning after I got the news. I had oatmeal from Starbucks and a glass of wine each evening. I got through it and found a way to thrive even as a sad song played in the distant background.

So, I haven’t really “processed” last week’s news yet with all the distractions of the past week. Occasionally a tear leaks out. But my chin is up.

I’m looking ahead: this afternoon, I met with Dr. Tran.

At this point, it may seem to an outside observer like I’m experiencing recurring pregnancy loss which must point to a “problem” that should be “fixed.” However, the most likely scenario is that I’ve been conceiving with eggs that had chromosomal abnormalities, something that is correlated to age. I happened to get three out of the last five. I am sure this is my issue and that it’s just (still) a matter of getting the Good Match. Here are some more things I learned about options:

  • I could do the full panel of tests for recurring pregnancy loss now (or: in 4-5 weeks because you have to wait that long after being pregnant). However, Dr. T. feels it’s overkill right now. He’s not worried about the fibroid in my uterus or clotting syndromes or a septum (whatever that is) or immune responses or all the serious and rare conditions that can stand in the way of pregnancy. These aren’t conditions that cause chemical pregnancies per se; they cause miscarriages at later stages. And he is worried that if we do the tests and get one of these results, the interventions will be extreme and possibly fruitless. He really doesn’t want to go down rabbit holes prematurely (and neither do I).
  • I could do the saline test of my uterus to see if the surfaces are ready for an embryo. (They would do this one before IVF.)
  • I could do a karotype to see if I have any abnormal chromosomes in my DNA. Not sure what I would do with this info until IVF. At that point, embryos can be genetically screened, it just costs more and may not be covered.
  • I could do progesterone suppositories, which is what a lot of women swear by on the boards. He said there is no harm in doing it so if it makes me feel better I should do it. But he didn’t seem to think it would make any difference.
  • I could change donors. But he doesn’t think this has anything to do with it–the donor is clear. He has established pregnancies and births. I’m sticking with McPiercy.

I have certainly gotten some medical details incorrect as I am recapping this from memory, but that’s the gist. I trust my doctor and he’s telling me that I am one of the lucky ones: I get pregnant easily. I have high ovarian reserve. I just have to hang in a little longer. And I have a plan.

The Plan:

  • Olga just called to say that this morning’s blood test was negative so I am cleared to try again this cycle.
  • Today is Day 1. I’ll start on Clomid tomorrow or the next day. Ultrasound Day 10. Trigger shot.
  • Two more medicated cycles, then IVF. The main impetus for IVF is my waning emotional stamina and my age–my eggs are in decline. Let’s get this show on the road. He says my IVF prospects would be high.
  • Pray, meditate, run. Rest. Get outside. Love.

 

fertility, IUI, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

beta #2

thesolomamaproject

Bad news. The number went down to 45. Another chemical pregnancy. F-ing unbelievable.

I’m angry. Angry to be jerked around, to be given false hope, to get everyone rallying around me again and again, all for nothing. A lot of screwing around for absolutely nothing.

All the beautiful symbolism of New Year’s and the sunrise and renewed faith and getting on the bandwagon with good friends already expecting–out the window. It was so nice while it lasted.

And I’m finding this out on day one of a five day meeting so I can’t fall apart. I’m actually not crying because I am so incredibly mad.

I think I’ll leave it there. I’m supposed to re-test next week to make sure the number goes all the way down before trying again, which I’m sure I will do, like an addicted gambler running up debts. But is this really in the cards for me? How much more can I take?

Meanwhile, I’ll be throwing myself into work and trying to forget the whole thing for a while.

IUI, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC

beta #1

thesolomamaproject

I left a message this morning at UCSF about yesterday’s test result and Olga called back and said I could do the blood test today or tomorrow. I figured it would be easier to do it today and again on Friday and avoid dealing with weekend hours and potential conflicts with a conference I’m attending that starts tomorrow. So I went today sort of on the spur of the moment.

It was fine, pretty uneventful–I had a nice chat with the nurse. I didn’t feel nervous. She said results take less than 5 hours but it was already noon so I figured I’d hear back tomorrow. But Olga called me at 6pm!

I was still at the office and ran toward a conference room  with my cell phone, saying “Wow, you’re still there–I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today!” Yeah, she said, she was swamped after the holiday. I shut the door behind me.

She wanted to call to congratulate me because the blood test says I’m pregnant: the beta was 64. Anything over 5 is considered pregnant and above 50 is great. On Friday, I’ll go for a second blood test to see if the number doubles, and you will not believe who is coming with me:

Gay bf J! Is flying in tomorrow morning for the conference! This is unbelievable! He has been here for testing every time, always in town for work reasons! The conference hotel is walking distance from the lab! It’s cosmic and uncanny and gives me faith that there’s a higher power choreographing our bicoastal friendship and my whole ttc process in general. It makes me feel calm and optimistic and grateful.

I woke up the other morning noticing that “gratitude” and “congratulations” share “grat”–I just looked it up and “gratus” is Latin for “blessing.” So expressing congratulations is like joining a gratitude party and sharing in the awe of blessings bestowed. What a sweet idea.

Grateful for all your congratulations and kind wishes, dear friends, family, lurkers. 🙂 More soon.

 

anxiety, family, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

thesolomamaproject

Last night I was at my friend C’s super fun NYE party, a great time–I was playing music at midnight and tossing back the sparkling waters with a hint of juice! Rather than drive home late with questionable drivers on the road, I spent the night there along with 6 other house guests.

We went to bed around 2:30am. I tossed and turned, sleeping lightly, nervous about the morning’s test. Even though I knew in my bones that it would be positive. In rehearsing how I would react to a negative, I told myself that if it said “Not Pregnant,” it would just be wrong, and I’d test again the next day.

At 7am, I heard C get up to get her mom up to go to the airport, then I heard the four people in the living room rustling around and preparing to leave. I had to pee. I had precious moments to do my test before someone else would need the bathroom. These tests recommend FMU: First Morning Urine.

I got the box and tiptoed to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind me. With nervousness and lack of sleep, my hands were shaking and I was sure the whole house could hear me wrestling with the plastic around the box. Finally got it open. I have to read the directions every time. Yet again, they hadn’t changed: put the test stick in the stream of urine for 5 seconds, then wait 3 minutes for the result.

I did it. I washed my hands and my face. I stared at the blinking hourglass. It really seemed to take forever. I started cursing it, caught myself, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them, I saw one word: “Pregnant” !!!! YES!

This is blurry after many attempts to get my camera phone to focus, still love the result and will keep staring at it until the battery runs out:

Image

I tiptoed back to my sleeping bag and N whispered, “did you test?” and I thrust the stick at her, she put on her glasses, and we silently hugged with wide smiles. I got in my sleeping bag and lay there for a little while to let it sink in. So many things have already gone right at this point: the little implanted bundle of cells is emitting HCG which is what results in the positive test. Good job, everybody!

I put on my boots and my jacket over my pajamas and stepped outside. It was a gorgeous, crisp morning in San Rafael. As I heard my mom’s sleepy voice answer the phone, i watched as the first rays of sun climbed above the green hills.

A new year, a new day, and a new beginning!

I just napped for two hours and now I’m going to meet up with two pregnant SMC friends for dinner. I love how things are coming together.

Praying that the nugget found a good spot and has all it needs to thrive.

Happy New Year!!!!

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

the year in review

thesolomamaproject

A year ago, I drove to the Grand Canyon to shake hands with the universe. An excerpt from my journal:

12/30/11: Here I am–end of the year, solo roadtrip, contemplating the New Year.

Once I arrived last night, I thought, Wow, OK, it’s really time to make a decision about having a baby. A little voice said, “I’ve already decided.” It’s true. It feels true and right and it’s my destiny. It doesn’t mean I won’t be fearful or stressed or lonely at times. But the decision has always been made, since I was born with my finite set of eggs. One (at least one) will become my child.

…So, My Baby, if you’re reading this one day, I made the decision tonight to bring you into the world. You who could be so many different people but who somehow is destined to be one and only one you. I’ve worked so hard to get here, and I feel proud and relieved and and scared. But tonight, peace.”

The decision was so clear. In truth, the decision was made implicitly as I extricated myself from my last relationship: if not x, then y. It took a couple of months to make it official.

It’s amazing how much time it takes to really get the process rolling, which is something I always want to point out to women contemplating this path–each step takes time, longer than you think. Do not delay!

Once the decision was made (after years of contemplation and several months of research), I was charting my cycles, did my paperwork at the sperm bank, had an intake appointment. I chose my donor, McPiercy, at the end of February (this was a whole process in and of itself that I will describe once McPiercy knocks me up for keeps). I missed my ovulation window in early March, unsure and hesitant about how to interpret a positive ovulation kit. Finally, on April 3, my dad’s birthday, I went for IUI#1. And I started this blog!

My blog is one of the best outcomes of 2012. Thanks to all of you who read it and encourage me in a million ways.

#1 didn’t take and the first BFN was rough. #2, same deal. In retrospect, it was so DIY with the sperm bank that I’m sure I had the timing off. IUI#3 in June was a hit! The poppy seed! But three days later I started bleeding just as the official blood test results came in: negative. There is nothing like the first BFP and telling everyone for the first time. I will use revisionist history to tack those first shares on to the pregnancy that yields the birth of my baby. 🙂

The chemical pregnancy was devastating and bewildering, but I had only 3 days of believing I was prego–I reverted fairly quickly back to trying mode. And it was good news that my body is able to do its thing.

I barreled into IUI#4 two weeks later, spending much of the two week wait on summer vacation with my family, blissed out by the lake, knowing intuitively the whole time that I was pregnant and that this would be it. I tested the day before I left: BFP. Happy and calm. I knew this time it would work because I had already paid my dues the month before.

Wrong. The 6.5 week ultrasound showed no fetal pole. It was inconclusive and they wanted me to come back in a week. Work travel prevented me from having another ultrasound until nearly two weeks later. It was a bad scene. I was stoic.

The moment I saw the ultrasound screen upon return to SF, I could tell the lentil hadn’t progressed. The nurse said, “I’m so sorry.” Numb. Discussion of next steps to remove the “products of conception.” Cried in the courtyard with A.

Fortunately, I didn’t go off the deep end about it. It was hard when I was in the middle of it, really hard. And then gradually I moved on.

That was four months ago. I went to Brazil and totally forgot everything for ten days–brilliant timing and a wonderful trip.

IUI #5 in the beginning of October, IUI#6 at the end of October, both BFNs. Emotionally disconnected and fatigued as I approached the end of the year. Took November off.

Which brings us to lucky #7. If I wait the full 14 days, I’ll test on New Year’s Day, 3 days from now. I am emotionally reconnected. I am present, alert to every twinge and tenderness, nothing to distract me while I”m staycationing. I am sleeping well, eating ridiculously well–today I had eggs w/ spinach and a smoothie of banana, frozen mango, frozen açai, blueberries, kale, coconut milk, and ginger. For lunch: a sandwich of leftover turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberry. For dinner: salmon and quinoa with spinach. C’mon, that’s ridiculously healthy, right? (as I head to the kitchen for chocolate peanut butter ice cream…)

I also did a massive purge of my closet today–10 bags of clothes, cosmetics, shoes ready to give away! Pow!

2012 was quite a ride, and yet I have never wavered on the decision made one year ago. I wouldn’t change a thing. Thank you, 2012, for teaching me so much and for getting me to where I am now. Babies, are you in there?

2013: let’s get it on!

 

 

dating, fertility, IUI, outdoors, ovulation, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

game on

thesolomamaproject

Last night, AF arrived and I said “thank you” and greeted her warmly. Her timing was perfect: I’ll have my Day 10 ultrasound the day after I get back from NYC, and I’ll do my IUI a few days before the UCSF office shuts down for three days over Christmas. I made it into the magic window. I’ve been doing calendar math for weeks now, and I’m super relieved that all the timing has worked out. This month is a go.

I’ve read through all the medical documentation and consulted Dr. Google and it looks like I can actually drink while taking Clomid–which means I don’t have to be a teetotaler at work functions, which takes a lot of pressure off. I will sip on an ever-present single glass of wine.

It feels good to be back in the game. Last night I had Indian pizza with 3 SMC friends: one contemplating IVF, one 8.5 weeks pregnant after 1.5 years of trying, and one 10.5 weeks pregnant on the first try. Grateful for these friends and the sharing of the journeys we couldn’t have predicted when we started. Oh, and the dating stories–this is where I’d link to their blogs if they had them, because you really can’t make this stuff up.

Here is my dating story. I sent the incredibly studiously-written birthday email and it had its desired effect: he wrote back and invited me to Hawaii in the new year and promised to do his best to make it an amazing experience.

Which conjures quite the colorful showreel of fantasies as we visit picturesque beaches, hike lava-spewing volcanoes, lay around in spa sarongs, and…other stuff–of course I want these things. Eventually. I would really like these things eventually.

Even with this headlining development, which of course is flattering and indicates some level of interest, I really haven’t seen him bring it. He’s still not driving the bus. In fact, he’s proposing that I drive the bus to him. So I’m not paying for a 3,000 mile booty call when he has a free ticket. Not yet!

I haven’t responded. I’m waiting to hear from my friend M’s friend who she calls the Heterosexual Yoda–a lesbian whose  dating advice about men is spot on. Every time. It’s like she’s so disconnected she can be objective. Usually her advice is, “Don’t respond,” and this non-action usually brings to light the true nature of the relationship: are you in or are you out?

Right now he’s out. I make this way too easy when they should be working for it. My impulses are always to be available and nice and complimentary and write in skywriting just how interested I am just in case they missed all the other cues. These impulses are great for friendships, not so great for dating.

If he inquires later about my trip, I’ll tell him my friend canceled so it’s postponed indefinitely, and he can do the calculations on what it would take to see me again. At least that’s my pre-Yoda plan. Thanks for keeping me posted, M!

I’d like to give a shout out to my friend A who is live-blogging her labor today (no joke) from Colombia and she’s doing an incredible job–she’s got salsa playing, her lipstick on, her mom by her side, and probably 20 friends following her updates online around the world. So inspired by this powerful woman and thrilled to virtually meet her baby boy. ❤

dating, IUI, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, writing

hawaii

thesolomamaproject

Thanks for all the good wishes–I am much, much better. I worked from home for the past two days and today I plan to go in to the office. Woke early due to lingering jet lag, with rain pattering against the windows. First morning light is a dim gray/blue and the forecast is rain through the end of the week.

I hit the ground running on Monday. Went to an IUI class at UCSF which I really should have attended when I started doing IUIs but no one recommended until now. I already knew almost everything we learned, but it was mildly interesting to hear it all again. I stayed afterward to learn how to give myself an injection. It seemed like a really big deal until I did it, and then it was no big deal. My math tells me the next IUI will happen around 12/19.

That evening, I met Dr. Hawaii for happy hour. This was a big deal because I’ve “known” him since January when he emailed me on a dating site–my initial pushback email was, “my computer is telling me you live 3,000 miles away…” He said, “I know, I know, but we have so much in common…” Because of his profession, his photos were kind of obscured, tough to see what he really looked like, so he offered to become facebook friends in order to see each others’ regular photos, and lives, and everything that FB shows. This is not typically advisable, dating friends! But, in this case, it’s been a great way to passively get to know him, watching as he posted photos of his friends, family, beautiful surroundings. He started liking and commenting on my posts and vice versa until he felt like a real friend.

Because I initially thought I’d never meet him I told him about the baby project in about the third email. So he has always known.

He came to town as a side trip from his parents’ house in Nevada City (where he grew up), and we organized to meet at a bar in my neighborhood. I walked up to him at the bar and touched his back and he stood and gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug and it was the most surreal sensation to feel like I already knew him, like we go way back. He said he had the same feeling.

He was exactly who I thought and hoped he’d be: easygoing, funny, confident. He is a naturopathic doctor so took great interest in my recent health drama and looked up the effects on alcohol on taking Cipro, concluding I’d better not drink. After chatting for a while, we decided to get dinner and walked up the street.

Along the way, he asked me about the baby project. I told him the basics, we talked about it enough to acknowledge it, that it’s ongoing, and then we arrived at the restaurant.

At dinner, he mentioned that he just got a companion pass on Hawaiian Airlines–meaning he can fly free anytime–which could actually make this possible. I had the distinct feeling that there was no one I would rather be with at that moment. (Lots of times I go on dates and think, “I’d rather be with the guy at the end of the bar,” etc.) He is, as my therapist would say, “in my ballpark.”

He walked me home under a full moon. Kissed me good night at my doorstep. Said he’d have to come back soon, I said, please do. He said, You could be pregnant by then. I asked, Would that stop you? He said, No.

Then I went inside, and he disappeared into the moonlit night.

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.