Category: running

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

biological clock, dating, fertility, IUI, ovulation, parenthood, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

on the eve

thesolomamaproject

It’s that one night a year in San Francisco when I wish I had a fan. The whole city is officially Way Too Hot, and we don’t deal at all well with this. Our tolerable temperature range is anything between 60 and 70 degrees, and that’s about it. On the street outside, people are stumbling around in confusion–it’s simply shocking to not need a sweater. I’m sweating and eating ice cream up in my stuffy apartment, hoping for a breeze through the open window.

Can I just say how grateful I am that my cycle has kicked back in like motherfucking clockwork on Day 15? Smiley-face today. I called Olga, and I go in tomorrow for IUI #5. At 11:15am PST, in case you want to say a little prayer for my good egg.

I had the perfect evening to mark the end of my TTC hiatus, including sushi and beer and catching up with a dear old friend with whom I hadn’t caught up in many months, so I didn’t even know she was having fertility dilemmas of her own. I knew I’d be telling her my story, and my story was that much more relevant since it resonated. Her story made me remember my own long and difficult road to the big decision, what a process it was; whereas now it’s such a solid fact that I could hang my hat on it. I savored her questions and hoped she’d read the blog.

It got me reconnected a little to retell it. Mostly, I’ve felt like “my head’s not in the game.” I had to set my alarm in Outlook to remember not to pee, and again to remember to pee four hours later, on the stick.

It was kind of a rough weekend. The Moroccan chose a weekend in Santa Cruz over our coffee date–touché. I decided to “quickly” sign up on match.com, forgetting the existential process of creating an online dating profile (an hour later, I had a screen name). Also: I discovered that I had forgotten my car in a downtown lot for 4 days ($160), tripped on a curb and fell on the sidewalk in front of an uncaring crowd, and worked alllll day on a Saturday. Wah.

Predictably, when I finally got myself to run from the Beach Chalet up past the Cliff House to Lands End, all the way up that staircase, all the way down the other side to Sea Cliff and all the way back, I felt fine again. Can I please remember from now on that I always always always feel better after a run?

Today is Monday but I’m drunk on two beers and contemplating my remaining hours of peace.before the two week wait. I don’t know how I feel really… still a little disconnected, and I hope that turns out to be a good thing when the crazy train pulls up a week from now. I keep finding myself listing out my trifecta of goals: to be promoted, to find a guy I like, and to get (and stay) pregnant. I’m trying my best in all three categories, and my new mantra is: SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN.

Stopping in the corner store tonight for ice cream, I came upon a dad and his 4-year-old picking out ice cream flavors. The dad was reading them out and the kid bursts out with, “VANILLA!” like it’s absolutely the most exciting flavor ever created. His dad handed him a pint, which he carefully put into the basket of his bicycle with training wheels while his dad went to pick out a bottle of wine. Then, the little boy walked up to the cat sitting on the check-out counter and said to him quietly and meaningfully, “So, how’s your night going?”

My heart swelled as I remembered why I’m doing this.

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.

acupuncture, anxiety, dating, pregnancy loss, privacy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, writing

karma

thesolomamaproject

Last Saturday, the day after my return from Brazil, I went on a 10-mile run through Golden Gate Park with my housekeys, a $20, and my driver’s license in my little shorts pocket. When I was within half a mile from my house, I was suddenly ravenous enough to eat my arm, so I opted instead to duck into Falletti Foods, an outrageously expensive grocery with a buffet of hot food. In my delirious hunger, I grabbed a crazy mix of foods and the cashier totaled it at $14 and change. I handed him my slightly moist $20. He gave me back a $10, a $5, and some change. I blinked and walked away.

As I sat there eating my chicken & artichoke lasagna and french fries, here was the voice in my head, “This place charges an insane amount for its food. They won’t miss $10. I could give it to a homeless person. Redirect the corporate surplus. I should stop being so honest all the time. I could donate it to the Obama campaign. I could keep it. I’m sure it didn’t cost them more than $5 something to make the food I’m eating. But……..won’t I spend the rest of the day stressing about it? What if the cashier gets in trouble? What if it comes out of his check?”

And, with that, I finished up and returned the $10 to the embarrassed and grateful cashier.

This morning, I was running through my neighborhood and saw a BART ticket on the ground. I thought, “I should stop and see if there’s any money on it,” but decided to leave it and see if it was still there on my way back. Half an hour later, there it was. I picked it up. $13.05. The universe gave me interest!

I’m sitting in a café with a tall Pellegrino. It’s 7:22pm. I have a date here at 8, or “8-ish,” as I believe he said, which bugged me. I can write until he gets here which I will bet you will be in one hour. On a scale of 1-10, with 10 being out of my mind excited to meet him, I am a 3.

Sigh. It’s been a wild week. Coming back from the forced respite from this project was a little tough, re-facing the reality of it. But, as my acupuncturist told me a couple of hours ago, why not just continue the vacation until my cycle kicks back in? I can’t really do or plan anything until then anyway. I like that. I’m still on vacation from this.

Coming back, I feel stronger. An unexpected result of this that I am in close touch with my anger. I don’t typically have a temper but lately I am on a hair trigger. Don’t cross a line with me right now, because I’m not putting up with bullshit. I should have done this a long time ago. Toxic people: out. Reactive, ill-considered e-mail, send. Insensitive post: unfriend. Surround me with love and support and otherwise I do not have time for you right now.

I had a shock this week when I met up with a friend who left my company a few months ago. Halfway through lunch, she says, “SO, I hear you’re pregnant!” I was stunned. I’ve been so careful about not sharing this with work friends, only the tiniest handful. I said, “Oh really, who told you that?” And she chirped, “Everyone!”

Well, first of all, I’m not. (Of course, she was mortified.) And second of all, it’s not public knowledge. I feel betrayed by whoever leaked this super-private news that I shared in confidence. I don’t really blame this friend, or the others who heard through the apparent grapevine. They thought it was public. But the floor absolutely dropped out from underneath me.

It dawns on me now (yes, now, 4 months after starting a public blog) that people talk. It’s human nature–this is juicy news to share. People love to be the one who knows first. Rationalization: I’m sure it’s safe to tell, I mean, after all, she writes it all down on a public blog!

It also dawns on me that I have no idea who reads this blog. I know who subscribes to it, but there are anywhere between 30 and 100 views per day beyond that. Are you out there, my boss’s boss? Hello, ex-boyfriends! Greetings to all my enemies, frienemies, stalkers, and identity thieves. You’re all invited. This is a public blog. We’re in this together. Please, please, please don’t F this up.

It’s risky putting all this out there, but you know what? This is my choice. This is how I live. This is so me. I’m loving writing. I keep a cozy loveseat for some of my favorite people in here. I love this!

I won’t subscribe to conspiracy theories… No one is taking this to my boss (right???). This post is about karma. I will be trusting and faithful that this will blog will do more good than harm, and that my readers will hold this information with exquisite respect and care. Lord knows, it’s done me a world of good to share with you, dear readers. The beauty rises to the top, the garbage falls away. What goes around comes around. I forge ahead with love and the best intentions.

And if you don’t like it, you can fuck off!!!!

anxiety, pregnancy loss, running, single mom by choice, SMC

letting go

thesolomamaproject

After 5 days in Rio, my camera took flight. Those were 5 days of beautiful photos including Ipanema, Santa Theresa, the wedding, and Sugar Loaf today. It was a small but fancy camera given to me by my ex a year ago with the idea that we’d travel the world together. Looks like the camera was more destined for long-term world travel than I was…

Somewhere between sitting on the table at lunch and the cab ride back to the apartment, it disappeared. I realized it when we got to the apartment; it was no longer over my shoulder. I tore the place apart. We cabbed back to the restaurant. “machina? Clic? Clic?” nao, nao… Nothing. It either slipped or was swiped on my way to or in the cab. I thought about sitting on the corner where we were dropped off, waiting for the big-hearted driver to return with a wide smile. (Can you think of a more unlikely scenario??)

After we exhausted all options, we headed down to the beach where the bride and groom had been playing beach volleyball all day. They we’re packing up. I told them what happened, joked to the groom and his dad, I was hoping you’d be able to give me the phone number for missing cameras in Rio! They looked melancholy.

Fortunately, I did get a few minutes to say good bye to my friend, the bride, G–the only person here who knows about the baby project. They leave on their honeymoon tomorrow. We hugged and she said in my ear,”I can’t wait to hear your good news, I’m so happy for you!” and the bigger loss and hope and love and what’ s really important all returned and the tears came. I got to tell her how happy I am for her too and how much it meant to me to be here.

It’s hard to let go of all that we don’t control. It’s hard to accept “what is” sometimes, even when there are good things staring you in the face. Just hours ago, if I had tucked my little camera into my purse, I would still have it. If I had just downloaded all the photos last night instead of just one, I’d still have the photos. But here I am in Rio, without a camera, not pregnant, heading to Buzios tomorrow, the “St. Tropez of Brazil.” (don’t cry for me!)

It helps to remember that it’s just a dumb object. An object that wanted to live in Brazil. An object that is teaching me about letting go. It also helps, a lot, that my new friend A was standing next to me taking almost all the same photos.

So much hope lies ahead. And, for now, a reminder to be in the moment.

And a run will help.

pregnancy loss, running, single mom by choice, SMC, Uncategorized

Rio

thesolomamaproject

20120831-164453.jpg

Hi from Rio! It is SO incredibly beautiful here. We’re one block from the beach in Ipanema, I went for a run yesterday that took us the length of Copacabana, we’ve already had countless caipirinhas, fresh coconut water from coconuts on the beach, and every meal has been off the charts. Already looking into prices for a one-bedroom (anyone interested?!). When I ask, “Voce fala ingles?” they almost always say no, but they are so friendly and willing to play a game of charades with smiles and laughter. Today we walked around a hilltop neighborhood called Santa Teresa where there were bougainvillea-like blooms all over in red and pink, tricky cobblestones in flip flops, and views of the water that reminded me of San Francisco and the Mediterranean on a grander scale.

I just drank sparkling rose in a treehouse-like restaurant overlooking the city with my 3 travel companions. We’re turning out to be a great travel team. I’ve got the minimal language ability, P does charming sign language, K holds up Google translate on her iPhone, and A keeps us sightseeing where we might otherwise just laze around on the beach. As a toast, I said, “We worked hard to get here,” meaning the uphill cobblestones, but realizing that, indeed, we did work hard for the money, the time off, the prep, we are so fortunate to have this experience.

The baby project is so far back in my mind that I wonder if the whole story happened to someone else. The feelings emerged last night in my dreams: I gave away a crib that was meant for my baby and somehow hung from a high ledge wondering if I could keep myself from falling. Overall, it feels great to give this project a back seat while I enjoy myself and relax. My subconscious can carry it for a while.

I am showered for the wedding and have an hour to give myself smoky eyes, slip on the sequins, and buckle up the strappy sandals. It promises to be a memorable and well-photographed evening. I’m truly thrilled for my friends G and O, really sweet friends of mine, great for each other… I’m honored to be here to celebrate.

Rio-valuation of my life most likely to happen when we get to a sleepy beach town on Monday. Or maybe not even. I’ll just go with the flow here and check into my present moment as often as I remember. P just announced, “cocktail time!” from the other room, so… I’ve gotta go!

anxiety, dating, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC

le week-end

thesolomamaproject

Good morning! Since I am going to bed earlier all the time (lights out at 9:30 last night), the morning is becoming my sharpest time of day–might as well slip in a blog post.

Last week was intense. (not “in tents,” Dad–he will make a Dad joke and ask if I went camping). Between the two blood tests and the 4 days of work visitors and meetings, it was a lot happening simultaneously. I’m happy to say I weathered it–blood test results were great, meetings went well, and I got my tired ass to bed early each night. By Friday, I was toast and worked from home.

The weekend was lovely! Went out with dear S to an art opening, African music/art, and dinner on Friday. At dinner, I started feeling a mild pain on the right side. Nothing big, it just started talking to me. I soon identified it as my right ovary. What would be the job of my ovary at this point? Hard to say, but it started worrying me… I went home and read on the SMC forum that someone had just miscarried at 6 weeks. In the morning the pain was still there. The anxiety can kick up fast.

I drove up north to practice wedding music with MM, and fortunately the sensation tapered off throughout the day and hasn’t returned. So, great. Maybe my ovary just had one or two quick things to say. If it comes back, I promise to call the doc, Beans.

On Sunday morning, I went with L (also preg) on our usual run in the Oakland Hills! As soon as we took our first few running steps, we both grabbed our boobs and went “oooowwww.” A glorious blue-sky day, we talked nonstop about pregnancy topics for probably a total of 3.5 hours between the way there, the run (2h20mins included walking), and pizza afterward. Dr. Tran says to keep up the normal workout, so we did (with a few modifications). We’re both in great shape–would be awesome to keep up this weekend run as long as we both feel good. I feel so blessed that L is on my schedule!

After that, I had a late lunch date. Dating while pregnant! Still in the game! Don’t get excited though–lately the guys I meet online seem like they’re from another planet. I will be the first to admit that this is largely due to recent changes in my own perspective and less to do with them and their (seriously countless) quirks. While this guy was going on and on about himself for the first half of the lunch, I was more interested in this angelic two-year-old redhead with almond-shaped blue eyes at the next table over, and a 6-month-old at the table beyond that one. I’ll admit that I started playing the “let’s see how long I can keep him talking about himself before he notices he knows nothing about me” game, and was mildly disappointed when he finally did notice and started asking about me. After we split the bill, we ended up strolling a bit (my idea), which was better since I didn’t have to watch his distracting facial tics like flashing his lower teeth in the middle of a sentence–I kept thinking he must have braces or food caught in the sides of his mouth. At the end he said, “I’m leaving town on Wed for two weeks, so I’ll give you a call you when I get back!” Not a terrible guy, but…see ya never.

Maybe I am just not in the mindset for dating?!

I went home and shifted gears from Sex and the City to newly prego lady. I took a nap. Then my sister came over and did hands-on reiki on me which was very relaxing. In bed at 9.

I am 5 weeks 4 days today. Did you know that in the 6th week, the baby triples in size? That’s in tents.

Enjoying every minute!

running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

Day 28

thesolomamaproject

Thanks for tuning in to see what’s going on with me. Breaking news: nothing yet!

Day 28 is everything. I find a lot of reassurance in the fact that you either are or you aren’t (thanks, Ms. R). Like in tennis, I must stay in a ready position as I anticipate the serve. Will it go left? Will it go right?

I figured out that I had counted the wrong dpo… today is 12dpo. Tomorrow will be 13dpo. Technically, I should wait until Thursday to test (which would be exactly two weeks). Theoretically, I shouldn’t get overjoyed until after the blood test. Even then, I should temper my excitement until 12 weeks. (My sister: “Isn’t it really a 12 week wait?”)

So many shoulds above! Here’s the thing: you don’t know until it happens. You can’t plan for how you’re going to feel or not feel. Today, I actually feel fantastic, if a little distracted.

I woke up this morning to find that the power was out. Took one call (I am on the clock today), then went for a run. As I believe I’ve said before, and will say again: everything is better after a run. The outside air, the sunshine, the physical exertion, the impact that works out all the kinks, the meditative space, the time for me. I am clear, energized, buzzing.

After the run, I headed over to the river house with a coffee to make use of its power and internet. No renters this week. I’m on my own, looking out at the river and the sun-dappled yard, it’s quiet. I have a bunch of work to do, but wanted to give you an update!

My plan is to test tomorrow, unless I don’t feel like it, in which case I’ll test Thursday, unless I also don’t feel like it (but I think I will). I can’t really think beyond Thursday. That’s the day I’ll leave this glorious place! I’ll try to make it back soon.

I’m hopeful. Which doesn’t mean certain devastation in the event that the ball goes left and whizzes by. It just is what it is.

biological clock, IUI, outdoors, parenthood, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

vacation

thesolomamaproject

OK, that was a bit of a hiatus now that I’m on vacation–needed a break from the computer. At this moment, I am on the balcony of my parents’ place in northern MI and, even as we speak, I’m being summoned to paddleboard with my dad or take my niece to the beach, so much to do up here at the peak of summertime. But I’m taking a little time to write. I’m looking out at a placid Lake Michigan, one solo obnoxious boat breaking up the peaceful morning and buzzing around like a mosquito, a hazy sky and golden morning sunlight from behind me. A cool breeze. I dream of this balcony when I’m away.

Picking up where my last post left off. The evening of my IUI, I went over to the East Bay to have dinner with my friend C. Four years ago, we met on a Yosemite trip as part of a big hiking group, and I learned that this was her “last hurrah” before starting to try to get pregnant on her own. Although this was four years ago, I was already starting to have inklings that I may not find the right babydaddy in time, as I was then dating a guy not that seriously because I knew he didn’t want kids. At a party a month after the trip, I got a bigger download from C on the experience–she had gone through one round of trying and had just found out it didn’t work. She told me all about the national organization Single Mothers by Choice, the actual nitty-gritty process of getting oneself knocked up, and the onslaught of emotions following one failed attempt. I was fascinated and taking mental notes.

After that party, C’s journey suddenly went in a wildly different direction when she started dating the guy whose party it was, and after a few months they decided to get pregnant together. And they did get pregnant (on the first try), and had a baby girl. We fell out of touch after a little while.

About a month ago, I felt compelled to reach out to her to let her know what a big influence her experience had on me. Once I was ready to become an SMC last fall, I knew exactly where to go. She wrote back to tell me that my timing was coincidental as she and her baby’s father had just decided to separate (super amicably and gradually) and she was preparing to be a single mom after all. We started making plans to get together–lots to catch up.

Mere hours after my IUI last week, I headed over to the East Bay, and was greeted at the door by pretty little two-and-a-half-year-old S, who promptly looked up at me with wonder and said in two-year-old-speak, “You’re an angel!” I blinked and asked her to repeat that, and she said, “You’re an ANGEL!” Then she insisted that I take off my boots and join her on the couch for some jumping. According to her parents, this was not her usual drill with new friends, and I was honored.

Of course, I took this to be a cosmic sign. It was wonderful to catch up with C, to hear her whole story of pregnancy and birth and her overwhelming love for her girl. She offered to be a resource and support and I am excited to be back in touch.

The next two days I spent frantically preparing for the trip (mostly wrapping up work), got up at the crack of dawn on Sunday to fly 4.5 hours to Detroit then drive 5 hours up here. I’ve spent much of the past two days sleeping–sleeping in, naps, other naps. Decompressing. You just don’t know how much compression is in there until you let it out.

The big highlights here are my nieces, who are both nonstop cute and fun and fascinating: E is turning 4 and S is 9 months. E has taken to calling me “KK” (I’ve graduated from “Tata Hot,” which she called me as a baby), and her grandpa is now “Chatmo,” for reasons only she understands. S will look up at you and bestow a smile that is like the sun bursting out from behind the clouds. They are a blessing. Of course, it’s wonderful to be with my parents and sister and bro-in-law too. 🙂

Yesterday, I went running on the new Sleeping Bear Heritage Trail that recently opened up and is a big deal around here. It goes from Glen Arbor through the National Lakeshore land to Glen Haven and all the way to the Dune Climb. Chatmo was my SAG Team (Supplies and Gear) with water and snacks in his pack. I did 8 miles at a mellow pace, and we sailed along through the old-growth trees in the leafy shade and at one point a big deer bounded in front of us on the trail. She stopped and looked behind her and then took off again, followed by a dramatically prancing fawn.

I am 7dpo (days past ovulation) and calmly transitioning into the final week of the wait. I feel calm, surrounded by support (including my parents’ downstairs neighbors the W’s, my cheerleading squad), and that it’s just a matter of time.

Image

Happy 4th!

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.