wandering

The Stages of Acceptance

March 5, 2013 36 Comments

When we first found out I was expecting, there were stages of accepting this surprise:

-First we felt shocked, as I swore the Fertility Friend App said I ovulated the previous week and we didn’t so much as even touch each other.

-Then I came to understand and see the calendar mistake of my/our ways, as women with longer cycles ovulate later. So it made sense.

-Next we both wrapped our head around something we had not anticipated and grew accustomed to this new, nauseated and bloated way of life. (Note: nauseated as a pregnancy symptom, not that we felt grossed out by the idea of starting a family)

-I felt guilty in not even trying and yet there are friends who try, try, again and would love to be in my position.

We accepted this idea of a baby in my belly and shared the news with family as we saw them, each equally excited for us.

And in that time we grew to understand what we though was meant to be, and how we figured it affected our little family unit (sell this darn house! get Mike that dream job!), we failed to know we got ahead of ourselves.

At my latest OB appointment, the sonogram tech nervously squeaked out in broken English, “it grow bigger, though.” I knew the embryonic size failed to match the dates. I knew the lack of heartbeat by 7 to 8 weeks meant nothing good. The tech handed me a box of tissues without saying anything, which I was unclear if this meant I should cry or clean up the KY. They pushed us along into the waiting room, then exam room, then finally to see the doctor where he told us in the most sterile, doctor-way possible, “I just don’t see this as a viable pregnancy.”

-First I felt shocked, as I swore he was wrong. He told us in his 35 years of “doing this” he knew the lack of growth and heartbeat meant miscarriage. They have such a lovely way of gently handling such a heavy matter. I allowed tears to stream down my face. How does a doctor’s office, with a desk and bookshelf, computer and ugly chairs, not have a box of tissues?

-I managed to keep it mildly together until we hit the hallway outside the office. While waiting for the elevator ugly sobs and gasping breaths tore through me. I mumbled that I couldn’t go back to work with children, I couldn’t have my breakdown outside the office where I’m sure all those lovely with-child ladies heard my sorrow. I was devastated.

-That night I had the most needed glass of wine in the history of my life. It lulled me into denial. I woke up early (did I even sleep?) and did some calendar math and internet research. If I still felt pregnant, didn’t it mean I was? If I ovulated late, didn’t it mean that embryo was measuring on target instead? How accurate are early ultrasounds? Was I blowing smoke up my ass?

-Now 5 days after that appointment, in which I swore off ever seeing that doctor ever again, I find myself nestled somewhere into acceptance and just wanting this to be over. I have slight cramping which passes with time and no spotting or bleeding. I have many pregnancy symptoms which just seems like a cruel joke.

Waiting to bleed is the harshest form of patience.

Oddly, knowing my body is doing the best thing by identifying a possible genetic abnormality helps little in processing this news. Knowing we can conceive and I will most likely get pregnant again does little for right now. Any news of the future and trying again makes me feel worse about right now – because right now, I’ve accepted I’m heartbroken.

Filed Under: miscarriage, thats life, wandering, your health is your wealth

On Patience

February 7, 2013 7 Comments

Only one full month into 2013 and my word for the year already daunts me.

PATIENCE

As a Libra I strive for balance. I hate when things are unfair, out of order, or plain “off.” As a child of the millennial generation I prefer instant gratification and automatic functioning everything.

Here in the beginning of February, I find myself stuck.

There are certain desires I have for my life and I know that “only good things come with time” or whatever that cliche says. But the Right Now Vicki living in the present tires of waiting. In horrible metaphor land: I want to lick the bowl before the cookies are done baking. I want to glimpse into the near-perfect life I imagine for myself and Mike.

Of course I am trying to help things along, but sometimes you can only do so much before you have to simply put it out to the universe/world/powers that be and let the chips fall where they may.

Or I just want to w(h)ine and for things to go my way.

Picture me with my hands on my hips and saying “harumph.”

And now to apologize for my rant, cute pictures of an English Bulldog puppy which have nothing to do with anything:

You get that big dog, little puppy!

I’ll continue going after bigger things with gusto, as well.

Filed Under: future, i complain because i can, Nora, thats life, wandering

Words that Inspire

January 20, 2013 8 Comments

As a member of my school’s Safety and Security team I voluntarily raised my anxiety levels through the roof in attending the Active Shooter Training by the Metropolitan Police Department. The MPD want to educate, inform, and help schools plan “when, not if” a lone wolf enters a school with a weapon. (deep breaths)

I totally understand their motivation and having a plan is the first step. I want to be safe. I want my students safe. Good intentions abound. (more deep breaths)

But aside from shock value, I hesitate to see the motivation behind watching the unedited Columbine shooting surveillance camera footage. (almost hyperventilating)

Or rather, I watched about a minute and then turned away, forced to listen to the screams, the shots, the horror. (emotionally removing myself from the situation at this point)

Later I bawled ugly tears to Mike. I doubt those images or sounds will ever leave me.

The whole experience, the training and the video, changed me and I am still searching for a positive light.

*******

Friday night we attended an MLK & Rabbi AJ Heschel memorial Shabbat service at the historic 6th & I synagogue. A baptist church along with this “non-denominational, non-membership, non-traditional” Jewish congregation came together to celebrate two lives who strove for change in the same direction.

A gospel choir sang praises while their church members swayed with feeling, shouting “Amen.” The traditional Jewish Shabbat prayers were chanted solemnly. The Afro-Semitic klezmer and African folk music fusion band enhanced both forms of worship. The overall feeling of unity, despite faith and skin-color difference, filled the space.

The preacher read an excerpt from Dr. King’s sermon A Knock at Midnight:

“Centuries ago Jeremiah raised a question, ‘Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there?’ He raised it because he saw the good people suffering so often and the evil people prospering. Centuries later our slave foreparents came along. And they too saw the injustices of life, and had nothing to look forward to morning after morning but the rawhide whip of the overseer, long rows of cotton in the sizzling heat. But they did an amazing thing. They looked back across the centuries and they took Jeremiah’s question mark and straightened it into an exclamation point. And they could sing, ‘There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole. There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.’ And there is another stanza that I like so well: ‘Sometimes I feel discouraged.’
And I don’t mind telling you this morning that sometimes I feel discouraged. I felt discouraged in Chicago. As I move through Mississippi and Georgia and Alabama, I feel discouraged. Living every day under the threat of death, I feel discouraged sometimes. Living every day under extensive criticisms, even from Negroes, I feel discouraged sometimes. Yes, sometimes I feel discouraged and feel my work’s in vain. But then the holy spirit revives my soul again. ‘There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole. There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.’”

If Dr. King felt discouraged, if he felt like he lived under the threat of death and did not hide behind his fears, then I too can step forward.

There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole.

There is a balm in Gilead.

I can turn my question mark into an exclamation point.

Filed Under: awesomeness, halp, helping others, i complain because i can, teaching, thats life, wandering

Traveling Well

December 1, 2012 Leave a Comment

We took a trip to the other side of the pond to the magical lands of tea, cheese, wine, friends, and foreign languages. We took a trip in the middle of the school year, in the middle of a work week, at the beginning of the holiday season, far from our families.

I took about 800 photographs on our 8 day trip abroad, and only around one hundred contain people’s faces.

I forgot to leave enough dog food at the boarding place, but they luckily fed her and charged us for more food.

I planned, tried on, and packed 8 outfits and wore variations of 4 due to misjudging what 8 degrees Celsius and rain feels like to this worldly traveler.