remembering how to walk.

Each season, my eyes learn something new. This spring, I learned that the papery leaves on the beech trees that last, miraculously, all winter-- get pushed off by these long spiny spiraled furls of new leaves. The old leaves are parchment. The new ones begin as dark red tips on gray brown twigs.

I walked. I walked in the woods.

In the old days, this would have been nothing to remark on. The walking I mean. The beech leaves would have been worth remarking any day.

But the walking. Remember how i used to walk? I hiked every day, or most days. I spent time outdoors every day. Sometimes in the garden. Sometimes in the hammock. But outside. looking long and far (sky and stars) or close at flowers and roots and dirt.

I walked and breathed fresh air and felt my muscles push me uphill, and slow me down on the descents.  I walked and walked and walked.

I walked.

I have missed it. OH how I have missed it.

Della and I climbed into the thicket beside the big overgrown apple tree, up behind the garage thingy that holds the tools for maintenance here at our apartment building. We made a hole through the branches of the tree, the branches of the bushes next to it, and suddenly were under the tree, a mystical umbrella of branches and sky. Oh loveliness.

Then up behind the tree into the woods.  Woods with tiny tiny pinecones. Woods with fallen branches to step over. Woods with fallen leaves. Woods filled with deer poop.  Woods that smelled like woods and dirt and life.  Up the hill toward the clearning I could feel by the light.  And to the edge of the back side of the golf course! What a surprise that was. I did not know that is where this property ended.  The rustic local course that feels like it is far away. I realize now, the roads fold back, and the clearing makes sense now that I know it. But it felt like a surprise, like I was expecting sheep up there. Not greens.  

We turned back and came downhill again, back under the tree, through the branches, and back into the small slice of grass before the parking lot.  It was a small walk, but a very big walk. I spent so much time thinking about it. How the woods have been there much longer than I have lived here (of course), and of course I look at them and look at them and look at them.  But then, that day, something shifted. The light maybe. My perspective. The woods, I realized, could be hiked through.... it was like an epiphany. And it felt *possible* for the first time. A walk! Yes, with Della. Yes, holding hands and lifting over logs and under branches, and no don't pick that up it's poo. And yes....

And up there, a beech tree. Parchment leaves littering the ground underneath, with a few still on the branches...and new furled leaves waiting.

***

Totally gratuitous Della photo and me, smiling, and leaning wayyyyyy over to compensate for the DellaGrande.  From friday at my Mom's.

3:3, percussive reset

Well then,
now where were we?

Ahh yes, percussive restart.
Barforama
Yes, it got me too. I thought I would *die* and I wish I were exaggerating.  Worse than labor, and kidney stones. I felt well and truly poisoned, and very very close to passing out many times.  But. Done with that and expecting a rapid recovery. Della is much better, although still off her food, and Doug, who was last to get it and had a different version, is tired as can be but is ok.
Somehow, we are ok.
Tired tired tired with no stamina, but ok.

But The Dread was exhausting and draining and the experience was intense and frightening,
and now, it is over and I feel nearly giddy
and would dance a bit, you know, if I could imagine lifting my feet off the ground. I'll jiggle and weave a bit now, sitting. It feels safer.

On a very plus note, after a few months of increasing discomfort and panic, culminating in a trip to see a new counsellor for some EMDR once I identified my triggers as triggers...I took action.
I made some hard choices as the year wrapped up about how I can best and realistically deal with my financial situation and feel relieved. I realize there might actually be a balance between what my brain knows sometimes and what my heart needs, and this time I feel I found it.

I also did some creative collecting this weekend-- a few opportunities to gather some images as fodder for my paintings.

It was fabulously foggy, with snow, and wet bark, and mmmmmmmmmmm
texture of corn fields, and dried weeds.

yes, I know I am nutty, but this stuff actually feeds me.

And for once? I allowed myself to be fed, to take the time to notice, take it in, and actually grab a few snapshots so I can evoke some of the same mmmmm in the future.

So-- yes, barfing and decluttering and trying to find some balance, and choosing pretty carefully (in this moment) what to put back in.

I really missed my campfire gathering, but felt I made progress this weekend finding my way back to what I know.

Hard to realize just how easy it is to lose sight of things that work when things aren't working.

Scrambly

Sometimes treading water looks like you aren't going anywhere, because, well, you aren't. And the not going anywhere can very easily look like not very much... can seem like lack of progress, lack of effort, lack of busy-ness and productivity.  But there is a lot of scrambling motion under the surface keeping you from drowning, and boy howdy, that sure counts.

Inside, I am feeling all sorts of scrambly.

There's a lot of motion under the surface. A lot of inner work, adjustments, re-realizations, some discomfort, a new cold, many projects, not quite enough time, and no where near enough down time.

There is no down time.
I need to figure out how to figure that out. How to allow for it.  Make space for it. Fill the space with down time that feels like down time. I am working against myself at the moment, filling filling filling. Running out of time feels like a daily deal.

Even my dreams have been frenetic and over-filled. I wake puzzled by the flood of images, quests, seeking, complexity and nonsense of them and their too muchness.

Today I am trying to get some things off my list.  Some of the too much.  Some of the weight of unfinished business.  I am trying to avoid avoidance. Do stuff that has been dangling and lingering.  Just hit send, just hit publish.  Just put it out there, not waiting until or unless, but just trying to get things done *enough*, enough for now.

One of my new updates today is to my heartwork creativity blog.  Please feel free to check it out.
Note the new tab for consulting.
Note the new tab for coaching.
Note the coaching is currently FREE for an email exchange.  Interested? Contact me!

Back to my scramblings and do-ings, just have really missed being here.
Really.
Really, really.

Horton, tempests, teacups, pilates

And, it was two years ago today Della and I began our journey together-- a bizarre pinchy transfer in a room big enough for a party.  The table in the absolute center.  A doc I met just that day (whom I liked), a nurse I did not like at all who did not know how to do the ultrasound... and the news that of the two we had to transfer, one had "high implantation potential", and we were handed a little photo of our amazing cell clusters.

Now, looking at Della, it is like looking at a speck of dust and finding out it is a universe.

How could that possibly be this? I don't know.

Tempest in a teacup.

Della is asleep on Doug right now, one of the most beautiful things I witness.
I just stayed up late and made a shitty carrot cake, my first try with a new gluten free flour mix. Bah. Terrible. Thrown out terrible. Disappointing. King Arthur's flour mix. I thought I would be in good hands. But no.  Smelled weird, strange texture.... yeah, no.

But! Pilates today, my first introduction. Kicked my ass, made me humble, made me laugh, made me focus, made me wish I had done it sooner, made me wish I were 20 years younger. But I left feeling, somehow, that this is more important than it might seem. Symbolic? Maybe. The studio is called Equilibrium. If only.

quiet resolution

Praise god/goddess/all-that-is,

I am better.

A day of rest+heat+Della+antibiotics= quiet resolution.

I quite expected drama when they released: explosion, firehose, fire extinguisher, whipped cream can thingy....

but, really, just quiet resolution, which is somewhat startling.

I did also get a cabbage, but know it can also decrease production and I am feeling very watchful about that right now.

Tomorrow I head back to work and pump, and we'll see how I do. I am hoping for more than yesterday, even if it is less than *optimal*.

I'm still not a high supply gal, just barely enough most of the time, and I am just going to have to stay calm about that.

I have a post brewing in my head about things that work and things I've liked...so with luck we'll be on to a new topic soon!

Seriously, thank you all- I look forward to visiting some new blogs (you delurkers) in the near future, but in the meantime please accept my gratitude.

Ouroboros

Today it rained all day and was not cold, and I can almost watch the snow vanishing.

It was a heavy day, but beautiful, truly. Buds are swelling on nearly every branch and I can only imagine that one warm day it will explode in color. Already the buds are changing how the woods appear, thickening the branches.

Today I went out in the world with Della, twice... I acted "as if" I knew what I was doing, walked with purpose, held her in my arms not in the car seat.

I think it is amazing just how the feeling of not knowing what I'm doing persists. And I guess it makes sense to feel this way since I've never done any of this before. And yet, now I know that if jiggling and dancing does not work, then she is tired or hungry, and I just need to check my memory for which one was longest ago.

I know she likes movement, and things to examine. Now she likes things to hold and rumple. Cape Cod potato chip bags RULE (thisbagisnotatoy I promise she is never unattended).

Today was so many smiles and such intensity as she watched people, touched their hair, looked at the lights on the ceilings.

Remember when I could not imagine *ever* going out? Now I can imagine it, and now I know tricks to how to make it more successful. Even those tricks do not always work, but they do often enough to make me feel armed with potentially helpful information. See me? Doing this?

The past two days Della has rolled over, front to back, I missed it of course.

And today, she bounced and jumped and danced in her doorway bouncy seat! Total glee (for me and for her!) I still remember loving my jolly jumper when I was little. I do not care if it is a true memory or a photo-induced memory, I remember glee.

My best dreams, still, are ones where I can bounce really high.

Anyway, she has stood and swiveled in the bouncy seat before, but today, for whatever reason, she bounced.

I've been thinking a lot about infertility and how it changes us.

How I hope beyond words that I do not always feel somehow broken, somehow less-than, somehow "other".

I want Della to feel strong and capable and am thinking about my feelings and my own behavior and what I want to model for her. I want her to feel strong, not fragile. Whole, not broken.

I also am trying to pay attention to where my energy is going. And with that, trying to see if I can change where I am spending my attention, and what spin I am giving my story.

I've been thinking a lot about how challenges can become obsessive, even those without direct solutions. You know that snake eating its own tail? Ouroboros?

To kick myself out of the unending cycle of memory and regret and the whole roads-not-taken contemplation that can eat your soul with fava beans and a fine chianti...I've been actively reframing.

To wit: I've been thinking a lot about how amazingly grateful I am that I had the job I had when I had it so I could justify doing just that one last IVF (knowing I would pay it off someday, and I still know I will just maybe someday longer in the future) otherwise we would not have Della, which, truly is unimaginable. She is my heart. And, to be honest, I am grateful too, to have this time with her.

We might not all sleep through the night ever again. But you know what? Totally worth it.

week 5, first snow

Today is Della's 5th week birthday and we woke to our first real snow of the season. yes, only about an inch, but lovely, and the woods are so still that it hardly looks real.

Snow brings the trees closer, and all of a sudden, my house in the woods feels like a house in the woods. In the fall, everything steps back, opens, but now, it feels like I can reach out and touch lichen on a tree trunk.

This weekend we did an overnight in Maine-- a last minute and perhaps insane trip that resulted in Della sleeping 4 hours or so in a row which was magnificent but a one time deal. And, because she has never ever done anything like that ever ever, I could not believe it was happening and spent a lot of time watching her, wondering if she was going to wake up soon.... so I got more sleep than usual, but she really did.

Saw my delightful friend Susan (our insanely gifted photographer) and yes, she took some photos while we ate lunch. Doug was wrangling Della in his easy made-for-this way, and I am so excited to see photos. (LOVED seeing her.)

But the trip itself, we just did it, we just packed up and went as if we could, giving ourselves every out if it did not work out. But you know? It worked out ok. But I confess: I feel I could go anywhere with Doug. He is magnificent with Della, and totally patient and does not flip out or assume difficulty. Changing the baby in a bathroom? You just do it, figure it out, no worries. WOW please god/goddess/all-that-is, please let his wonderful personality rub off on me, and please please let Della have gotten more of him than me in this way.

I am an all-that-can-go-wrong overthinker (not ultimately to the exclusion of all else, not terminally, but I confess, it is my nature), so it is really good for me to be with someone who just does things. They get done. No trauma, no duress. Options to change.

I nursed in public and it was not an issue at all, just need to remember that I am not ok with full boob (mine) exposure in public, so I went under rather than over, and had smartly arranged for belly coverage which also mattered and made me feel more at ease (and warmer!)

Anyway, things worked or they didn't and we adjusted (instead of freaking out) and it was all ok.

Only one regret: I did not take any photos of the ocean on saturday, but maybe I was meant to have it be a memory-- the sky and water the same color, with a slightly darker line at the horizon, and lighter along each wave crest. I am not sure I have every seen anything more beautiful.

Today has been designated a rest day after I felt like crap yesterday- just tired I think, and emotionally raw. I would hike but I need stillness today more than movement. But tomorrow might bring an adventure and I need to have my feet under me.

Tireegal, I live in Southern New Hampshire which is why the cold and snow and ice. But yesterday was balmy truly.

And I went on a mini adventure- no, not the coffee shop, but a solo with Della trip to get snow tires and an oil change, and we survived just fine.

Fear sucks ass, as does the presumption of failure/calamity/hardship/incompetence. I hope I can shake some of this useless stuff. It is like trying to run with really heavy shoes with no flexibility in the sole.

3:51am

wind and snow and rain

and

we're on...

heading for hospital soon

amazingly intense everything

fear excitement tired sensations (oh the hip pain!)

holy shit folks, this is really happening.

Progress

Sometimes you have to make a list

and then

just start doing.

Last night I made a list of a variety of ways of how to help myself in this tumultuous time-- and today? I took some action, wrote some notes, asked for help, made some contacts...

Progress.

And you all are great, truly. Thank you for your kind words of support. I wish this were different, or at least, I wished it to be true. Now I just wish to be on to something healthy.

As I am sure makes sense, some of the blog entries where I truly spill about the details of my work situation might be getting edited or private soon (including this sentence).

I'm off to do more things from my list!

Action is better than inaction for me right now-- this simple thing, "doing", is really helping.