Pushing On

What is it that makes us take a terrible situation, and keep going forward?  Just our will to forget and move on?  I'm not sure, but I've been noticing it's a theme lately.  I can't help that I'm drawn to people who have faced the worst circumstances and moved on, or found happiness again.  Those that have faced adversity and come out on the other side. 

There is a common theme in all of us, to love, and find happiness, but on that trek, well, life happens.  I was on a run yesterday and with the colder weather on the east coast, I have been dragging and finding excuses to not get out there.  But I yelled at myself to stop thinking about it so much and just go do it.  It sucked, in a nutshell, but something happens after that first mile.  I start to find a rhythym.  I start to think about random things and before I know it, I have run another mile.  Those are the best runs, losing all sense of the time and miles ticking away on my running watch.  I looked down to see that I had run 1.67 miles before I even knew it.  It felt great and then the ensuing miles felt great.  And the weather was no longer cold, but sunny and bright.  I was no longer cranky, but feeling a sense of accomplishment and good tired. Pushing myself, physically and mentally I got it done.  Getting through a run is one thing, but doing that in life when the chips are down, is another.

About a month ago, a dear friend lost her mother, too young.  She had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer this summer, and things progressed quickly.  She had already lost her father a few years ago, and now, her and her three siblings find themselves adult orphans.  My heart tightens everytime I think about it.  She, however, seems to be doing ok.  Back to work, a positive outlook. 

Her story is not the only one, another friend who is now in a "scary" pregnancy, another friend who can't get pregnant, and another going through another cycle of IVF.  Friends' parents or spouses with health scares.  And further out, teens involved in bullying, or miners being stuck underground for 69 days.  If their tale is not an example of pushing on, I'm not sure what is. 

This weekend, one of the Chilean miners will be in NYC to run the NYC marathon.  He ran six miles a day underground, but that is about all the training he has done.  I doubt it will matter much when it comes to the marathon.  For his tale is one of survival and the true definition of discipline.  And he will be surrounded by many strangers who were cheering him on while underground and during the rescue. 

It's stories like his, or my dear friend, that I look upon for strength in my own times of adversity.  But there's another common theme here.  That we can't do it alone.  But perhaps together we can all push on.  Get rid of the imaginery lines that divide us, and do it together.  Run together, survive underground together, change together, and push on together.   Perhaps there's someone who needs a boost today, or a just a quick email that says we are thinking about them.  Perhaps someone needs a little push, perhaps it's you who can give it to them.  Afterall, it may be you that doesn't realize your ability to push on.  Or, if you are the one that needs a little push, then I hereby reach out to let you know you are not alone.  We are, afterall, in it together.  Push on my friends. 

Believe

We had just finished dinner, and our waiter brought our check over to us.  On top of the bill, there were two.  Neatly wrapped.  I quickly ripped my open and read it out loud.  It felt about right...we are due for some big things.  For some big news.  I put it into my purse for safe keeping.  When I feel down I want to read it and know that I still have hope. 

I was taking the train to the city the other day and gently put a glass bottle of Starbucks coffee into my (new) purse so it wouldn't leak.  Got on the train to realize it had in fact leaked all over the interior of purse.  Tried to rescue what I could.  Saw the small peice of paper soaking, or better, swimming at the bottom, and pulled it out and placed it on a ledge to dry out.  I must have put it back in my purse at some point, but I hadn't seen it since on the train.  Hadn't thought about it either.

Last night I was remaking Bailey's bed.  She likes to kick all the covers out of her bed sometimes, so we carefully remake it into the queen's bed she so rightly deserves.  I picked up one of the blankets and the fortune floated down to the floor like a falling leaf.  I picked it up and smiling, I read it again.

Why is it that people can tell you over and over again that good things are going to happen, but I read a five cent fortune and I believe again.  But it's true, I do believe again. 

When Life Gives You...

This morning I stumbled out bed with eyes half closed, hair messy straight to the coffee pot.  I knew I needed to really rally at work today, so coffee on those days is a must.  I grabbed a mug from our dish set, but saw further back another familiar mug...this mug.

 

When K and I were still dating I was in a job I absolutely hated.  Not only was I working long hours, but I wasn't very good at what I was doing, mainly because I really hated it.  Plus, I was having a hard time getting along with my bosses and it reaked a little of "Office Space."  

Yeah, I'm gonna have to ask you to go ahead and come in on Saturday....

Knowing my misery and K's love of the comic strip Red Meat, he bought me this mug.  I smiled through closed teeth and put the mug at the back of the cabinet...I thought it was a little gross.  Especially for my morning coffee.  But for some reason, once we moved and I started drinking coffee from home more, this has quickly become one of my favorites.  Plus, I think the message is funny and apropos now, and I feel I've earned the right to drink from it.  

This morning though, I immediately thought of my good friend.  I had lunch with her yesterday and she is a good friend from college (we were roommates for a time) and she happens to live in NY about 20 minutes from us.  She is pregnant, which I knew without it being confirmed.  But things are going just ok for her.  A few weeks ago she got a viral infection that in pregnancy could be hazardous to the fetus.  So in a few weeks she will need to get an amniocentesis, and see how the baby is doing.  You can tell she is scared, but excited, and wants to tell people and have everything be ok.  

I can't help but think of when we were in that similar situation.  Telling people we were expecting, but something in the back of our minds not letting us truly feel excited, and not buying much for the baby at all.  It's a crappy situation to be in, and not something I've wished on anyone.  I feel for her, and will be praying like crazy for a healthy baby.

But in chatting with her she made a comment about how great K and I have handled everything we've been through.  For some reason, we continue to persevere.  We have never stopped in our quest to start our family and though we've hit bumps in the road...we've dealt with them.  And no matter her outcome, she will persevere too.  Perhaps it's our outlook, that when dealt a crappy hand we see the silver lining, or we just make poop juice.  I guess the point is, it doesn't really matter how we get through, it's that we do. 

I'm Still Here

I keep coming back here.  To this place, where I have left so many of my thoughts and feelings over the past few years.  It's as if I'm stalking my own self.  To see if I have posted yet.  Everytime I check I see that the page is blank.  After my last post, I had all but thought I was done.  This summer, I didn't even think about writing.  But for some reason now that fall is in full swing, words and posts and thoughts and feelings are clouding my brain and I'm guessing they need an outlet.  And that's ok, not everything has to be so absolute or black and white.  If I need to write, I shouldn't feel like I'm breaking any rules of not posting. 

I took a much needed break from hearing my own words and it was a great summer.  It was our first full summer out here on the east coast, and we tried to get out and do some different things.  We played in our town in Connecticut which is a vacation destination in itself.  We live close to the beach, so I spent a lot of time running, and also taking Bailey out for many hikes near the State Park by our home.  I gave the emotions and thoughts a rest, and concentrated on my physical self.   This must go back to when we were kids and summers were for swimming and playing and come September, it was time to put our brains back to work.

We also checked out other avenues for "Operation Baby Drop" (it's like we are in a war that will never end).  But those proved fruitless so we are back to adoption, and with a new agency.  We are just waiting for the official "approved" from them so we may start to get shown to birth moms.  Even to get this point, this agency really has their stuff together.  It's amazing how bad the other agency was in hindsight.  It's not nearly as exciting as it was last time, and that may be ok.  We are going to be more strict about what situations we will allow, and make sure that the fit is right for us too.  It may take a little longer, but we can't let ourselves get into a situation like last time.  My hair is still growing back in...it's a constant reminder of the turmoil everytime I try to fix my hair or tie it back in a rubberband and I see sprouts of hair all over my head that have a mind of their own. 

So here I am for now.  No rules, no obligations.  Just here, figuring it all out. 

Finding Peace

This morning I crawled my way out of the covers with a dog that kept licking my face, and laced up the ol' running shoes to make my way out the door for a run.  I tightened my shoes before I took off down the street and looked at the tag on my shoe.  I have an ID tag with my name, and a couple emergency contacts in case something ever happens to me and they can't identify who I am.  On these tags there's a couple of extra lines where you can put a motivating saying, tag line or nickname.  One of my friend's put "Don't Hurt Me" on hers, which still makes me laugh, but on mine I put "My Feet Keep Me Running, My Wings Let Me Fly."  It's the title of the first blog post I ever wrote. 

I have been feeling very at peace lately, and glancing down at that tag, I realized just how far I had come from about two years ago, right about the time I started blogging.  When I started blogging I was just a few months past losing my most precious gift, and I was not in a great place.  I was trying...trying to be positive, but I've come to realize that when you lose someone very close to you it really messes you up.  And looking back, I'm so proud of the way I came out of that darkness, but know that my heart was still broken into many pieces.  And I think this somewhat stayed until we moved to Connecticut.

Moving has given us a reason to slow down a bit.  Leave the city life, smell the fresh sea air and experience greenery besides weeds growing in the sidewalk.  I truly believe we were given this gift to help center us, and put us in a better place emotionally.  At least I know it's been that way for me.  Going on hikes 1-2 times of week, something happens to me when I'm out there in the woods.  I feel weightless, centered, and healed.  But since we moved it hasn't all been harmonious.

I noticed a couple of months ago that I had a new growth of hair coming in.  Not just a couple strands, but all around my head spurts of hair! I thought maybe that I had damage from hilites, but that didn't make sense since I only get them on top and I had hair growing at the bottom too.  Last time I was at my hair dresser I asked her about it.  She said sometimes diet could make that happen, and I did lose 15 lbs when we moved.  But more than likely it was stress.  With a big move across the country, embarking on adoption, and going what we went through with the adoption, it is very likely my hair fell out somewhere along the way.  I have a TON of hair, so I never really noticed, but now that it's growing back in...It's hard not to notice because it's really messing up my 'do. 

But now, I have peace.  After the adoption failed and we picked up the pieces, I had feeling wash over me that everything is going to be alright.  Desperation kind of found the exit door, and I know that I can't do much to change that plan is set for us.  We are still being proactive with adoption and one last round of IVF, but I'm equally excited about them both!  It's almost the question of what is going to happen...and either way, I couldn't be more interested to learn what God has planned for us.  I now know that God hasn't forgotten about us, but that it's going to be damn good since we've waited so long.

Rubber Mats and Play-Doh

Finally the weather out east is starting to break.  This week, along with my foul mood, the weather was dreary and chilly and left me wanting to stay in bed all day.  Topped with my cutting back on caffeine, an AF that was trying to win some sort of contest and Mother's day...well let's just say it was a rough week around these parts. 

But now that I see sun again, I find myself wanting to run more.  Running for me is a must in my life, and it's painfully obvious when I haven't run in awhile.  I feel lethargic, fat, lazy, unaccomplished.  That may sound harsh and is probably a little harsh, but after a run, even a short run my whole outlook changes, instantly!  I only run about 3 times a week, but when that is taken away from I feel that my outlet is gone. 

I always find it funny when people say that "it's so great that you run," as if I have any sort of choice in the matter.  When you are a runner, you just find yourself lacing up your sneakers to hit the pavement.  But what people don't realize is how LUCKY I am to find myself out there.  I'm a kid again, playing outside, looking for my next adventure.  The other day I ran down a winding, shaded hill, feeling free and fast.  I passed a house and could smell the hose running water.  Why does water from a hose in the summertime always smell different?  I kept running and passed another house that smelled like daycamp from when I was 10 years old.  It smelled of rubber mats and play-doh.  On my way back home, I ran past a park getting freshly mowed and could smell the fresh grass, and see specs of it swirling around the lawn mower. 

So to me, I'm the lucky one.  Today, I will hit the streets again, and let the sun shine on my face, feel the sweat on my back and say a little prayer back up the hill that I generally swear at.  When I come home I will feel that sense of accomplishment and look forward to the next time I can feel like a kid again.  If you don't run, perhaps give it a try today, all you need is a pair of sneakers.

**Update tomorrow on book club.  I've chosen the first book, nothing too long or tough to read!**

Acutely Aware

Sunday came and went.  It has been 4 mother's days now that I have not been a mother and have so wanted to be a mother.  The pain associated with this day is not something that is getting any easier for me.  I am still feeling the sadness and repercussions of feeling empty on this day.

Three years ago, my first mother's day after we had started trying for a baby, I don't really remember.  I don't think I felt an emptiness or sadness so much.  I'm sure I thought about it, but given the fact that I don't remember it, I'm certain that I must have felt ok with the day. 

Two years ago, my second mother's day after we had started trying.  Well two months before that mother's day I had lost my baby.  I was still supposed to be pregnant, but instead, I carried around the extra pregnancy weight that I could not get rid of.  An awful reminder.  My mom and I went about our day of getting our nails done and brunching, but I remember feeling in a haze that day.  I remember sitting in Starbucks and looking at a painting on the wall that looked like sperm swimming toward an egg.  I remember feeling the elephant in the room, because no one said anything about it, not even my mom.

Last year, we had our "last" failed IVF cycle.  We were done, and I felt a huge weight lifted.  We were moving on to adoption.  We were also moving across the country.  So we did what we do best, we left town to avoid Mother's day at all costs.  It worked because I felt fine, and fairly confident that by next year, I'd have a baby, or maybe waiting for a birth mom to have her baby. 

This year...was rough.  Probably as rough as when we lost the baby.  I think because in both cases we were so close, we had a baby waiting in the wings, but again, that would not be our fate.  This year, I knew would hurt.  And you know what also hurt?  The bottle of wine I drank the night before Mother's day resulting in one of the worst headaches I've had to date.  Wine + Depression = hell.on.earth. 

A few days before Mother's day this year, we got a call from K's brother.  They are expecting.  She has had a rough journey of her own, taking a long time to conceive, and having a ectopic pregnancy in December.  So I knew this day was around the corner.  And I am so so happy for them.  Thrilled actually.  I know the pain of infertility, probably better than most.  On Sunday, they called again and said it was twins.  The more happy I feel, the more I feel the knife cutting through my heart.  I feel the last pieces being cut away, that somehow, they are pregnant with the last babies on earth.  That 2 1/2 years ago, we were making the same announcement, with twins.  That now...on this Mother's Day, I was left empty handed once again and must put on a happy face for someone else's joy, and can only hope that one day, we will be acutely aware of the joy we feel as well.