4 years ago tonight, I was at home, wondering what might be happening with the two little embryos that had been transferred that morning... I was feeling oddly happy. Optimistic even.
http://www.i-cant-whistle.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy.html
Right now, one of those two little cell clusters is sitting on Doug, saying Again, Daddy-- I am bringing the baby to the doctor for a shot, but not an ouchy shot, a gentle shot...you be the doctor.
A billion and a half shots later, here we are.
holy moly.
How amazing is that.
10 February 2014
09 February 2014
dirty little secret
Hear me, those who are still trying to make it to this heaven called parenthood. I am not forgetting That loneliness. That hell. This is not that.
But.
With that said.
Mothering is at once truly consuming and profoundly lonely.
In my particular and perhaps peculiar mosaic of working at home and parenting, my ambient human interaction happens mostly at the grocery.
I spend days when I see Doug and Della and few if any others. I spend days in the summer seeing Della and no others at all.
I keep wondering how/when/where the energy could come from, the energy needed to foster possibilities of connecting, of meeting, of imagining friendship, of conversation, of even knowing if there is a fit beyond the knowing shared look of fatigue as we pass, cart by cart, in the aisles.
I don't know, exactly, how to remedy my situation. I've reached out today, the first time in a long while, to friends already made, local friends, people I love... but schedules are hard, complex, how do we do this?
It is a logistical tangle. No, not tuesday, a week from sunday, no... and then.... I peter out, not pressing on to three weeks hence because who knows?
I miss funny things, sustained effort of any kind... painting, writing, editing, reading... aimlessness....hiking. My little one's idea of sustained attention is about 15 minutes and that is if the show is of her choosing. Confessing, right there, the role of video in our parenting style.
We can walk, sure, but 15 minute loops...
I forget to lean on Doug, forget that I don't have to shoulder this all my self in the off season, when he is in town... I forget I can ask.
Tonight I went out to switch laundry over, and noticed the light, twilight, and noticed I was alone.
Upstairs quick quick to get into a jacket to walk around the "block" which is to say the parking lot behind our section of buildings, and back across the snowy field between us and the road, under some pines that feel like magic to me.
Back and forth I walked, because the first time I was not paying attention... so the second time I did. And the third.
And I came back reconnected to Me which, I guess, is the first step to all of this connecting anyway, isn't it?
But.
With that said.
Mothering is at once truly consuming and profoundly lonely.
In my particular and perhaps peculiar mosaic of working at home and parenting, my ambient human interaction happens mostly at the grocery.
I spend days when I see Doug and Della and few if any others. I spend days in the summer seeing Della and no others at all.
I keep wondering how/when/where the energy could come from, the energy needed to foster possibilities of connecting, of meeting, of imagining friendship, of conversation, of even knowing if there is a fit beyond the knowing shared look of fatigue as we pass, cart by cart, in the aisles.
I don't know, exactly, how to remedy my situation. I've reached out today, the first time in a long while, to friends already made, local friends, people I love... but schedules are hard, complex, how do we do this?
It is a logistical tangle. No, not tuesday, a week from sunday, no... and then.... I peter out, not pressing on to three weeks hence because who knows?
I miss funny things, sustained effort of any kind... painting, writing, editing, reading... aimlessness....hiking. My little one's idea of sustained attention is about 15 minutes and that is if the show is of her choosing. Confessing, right there, the role of video in our parenting style.
We can walk, sure, but 15 minute loops...
I forget to lean on Doug, forget that I don't have to shoulder this all my self in the off season, when he is in town... I forget I can ask.
Tonight I went out to switch laundry over, and noticed the light, twilight, and noticed I was alone.
Upstairs quick quick to get into a jacket to walk around the "block" which is to say the parking lot behind our section of buildings, and back across the snowy field between us and the road, under some pines that feel like magic to me.
Back and forth I walked, because the first time I was not paying attention... so the second time I did. And the third.
And I came back reconnected to Me which, I guess, is the first step to all of this connecting anyway, isn't it?
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