I knew leaving for this trip that I would probably get my
period while I was here, and this morning when I woke up randomly in the early
hours, I had. I took a deep breath, took care of business and got back in bed.
I slept for three more glorious, silent, uninterrupted hours and then woke to
face the reality of this situation. I’m back in the game, and it’s an odd
feeling.
First I’ll say that the drive in was wonderful. I left home
an hour later than planned because I was dumb enough to lock the keys in the
borrowed car and had to retrieve the extra key from our gracious and giggling
friends. Once on the road I
stopped to drop off items to two friends, spending over an hour chatting with
one that left my heart full, and my belly aching from laughter and my body
saturated with deep hugs.
Friends, I was crying before I hit the freeway. Grateful for
the opportunity, thankful beyond measure to those who made this space possible
for me: from my amazing husband who pushed, prodded and told me I needed and
deserved this, to the friend who offered up her mother’s sweet and comfortable
trailer for free, to the couple who lent me their extra car so Ryan and Ruby
wouldn’t be car-less all weekend.
I felt blessed with abundant love by the community around me, the
community that I have intentionally created in my life and heart, and felt
humbled that I have been given so very much. I would lie and say I don’t feel I
deserve this, but truthfully, I know I do. We all do, but I will humbly,
honestly, heartfully say that I. Deserve. This.
Before I left town I wavered more than once. Stupidly I
wavered at home, wondering if they would miss me, if I would miss them, what
they would eat, and other completely ridiculous things. I wavered with a friend
who is having a hell of a time just taking a deep breath and who doesn’t have
the space to sit down, much less spend 3 days in introspection. I told her I
was wavering as I stood on her doorstep and she looked at me as if I were truly
a crazy person and told me to GET. IN. THE. CAR. I know the world will
not come to an end because I leave town for a few days. I am not in charge of
everything, and I am not the boss of anyone, but I feel so much better knowing
I can be there in an instant to
help, to hold, to…whatever. But I don’t need to rescue any one, they don’t need
to be rescued. I believe in a life of service, but whom am I serving this way?
Clearly not me.
And so, I drove away. I picked up my old iPod, and put it on random. The heft of the
ancient machine sat in my hand and again I burst into tears. It’s been so long
since I used this, and for some reason it reminded me of years/times gone by
and past challenges and triumphs, and I felt invincible, that the whole world
lay before me, and I could conquer all.
The funny thing, is that as I drove, and the music changed I felt the
whole range of human emotion, from utter despair to complete elation, from love
to hate and everything in between. I laughed, I cried, I winced. And then, I finally saw the ocean, and
I breathed a deep sigh of relief.
I had fears that I’d be paralyzed by being alone, that deep
horrible painful thoughts and feelings would come up and envelope me and I’d be
unable to enjoy my time with myself. Surprisingly, it’s been just the opposite.
I’ve been amazingly comfortable by myself. I ate alone in a nice restaurant,
while being waited on by an adorably handsome boy who is probably half my age,
and who had to stifle laughter when the skinny old lady asked for MORE butter.
I shopped alone for a few groceries while families on vacation tried to choose
which kite and cereal would satisfy their shrieking children, and I was
un-phased. I came back to an empty space, put on some music and poured myself a
glass of wine and I looked in the mirror.
When I was a girl, all of my fancy took flight, and I had
this dream could outshine anything even the darkest night. Now I wait like a
widow for someone to come back from sea, I’ve always known I was waiting for
me.
The whole point of this weekend was for me to find my
center, if even just for a moment. To get some much needed sleep, quiet and,
yes, introspection. I wanted to knit, walk on the beach, listen to the ocean,
maybe try my hand at meditation (something that has alluded my crazy busy mind
for decades), and re-open the door to the divine. Last years failures slammed
shut the tiny crack I’d opened to my connection with God yet my yearning for
the divine hasn’t waned. I just haven’t had the heart, courage or willingness
to try. But, here I am, and I’m going to unlock the door and see if the wind
blows it open a crack. I’m not going to throw it wide and scream to the heavens
“come on in!” but I’m willing to let it creep in just a tidge.
Getting back up on the rollercoaster of infertility
treatment, however ‘light’ the treatment is, is still a challenge. Knowing that
I’ll only go so far, that we only have (less than) a year puts some pressure on
me, but also knowing that I’ve survived this before, I can do it again. I don’t
know how I’ll fare if we get to the end of this year and come up empty, but I’m
willing to do the work, put in the time and roll the dice. And yes, I’m scared.
So I made the call, reported cycle day 1 (CD1) to the
doctor’s office, who wanted me to come in today for blood work and a visit with
the cooter cam (vag.inal ultrasound). Thankfully (and since I’ve been a patient
for 6 (six!) years, they scheduled me
for early Sunday morning, even though they don’t usually do these on the
weekend. I think it’s because Dr. M wants to see me himself, and he’ll be in
the office on Sunday. It pays to be a regular, I guess. Actually, the man
hasn’t seen me in almost a year, but since he has seen all of me, and been
privy to some of the hardest, saddest parts of my journey I get more face time
than the average jane.
And so it begins.