Yesterday I woke up and La, like always, asked me what my day looked like. I grabbed my phone and opened my calendar and saw nothing. And then I remembered that there was nothing scheduled because I had been keeping the day open for egg retrieval. Which is not to say I didn’t have anything to do at work, just that I didn’t have any meetings or deadlines or phone calls or webinars. “You should take the day off.” She said, when I told her about my absence of meetings and the reason why. I sat in bed and thought . . .and thought . . .and thought, “yeah. I should.”
Knowing that my boss/our executive director is A) super woo woo and B) very supportive of self care, I sent her an e-mail and told her that I was taking the day off, in part to grieve the absence of what should have happened, and also, just because. Her response was, as I expected, 100% supportive and well wishing. So, with 0 guilt, I played hooky.
I realized staying home from work when you are not sick is *the best.* (I realize this is obvious, perhaps, but really hadn’t occured to me because, you know, I don’t usually just take days off.) I was up already, and the coffee was made, so I put on a sweater and grabbed the latest issue of Bitch: A Feminist Response to Pop Culture, and sat outside in the almost-spring sun with my dogs. This is something I have not done in a very, very long time. And it was luxurious and lovely.
Then, I got up and put on a peppy playlist, and got down to cleaning. For the record, I did this joyfully and of my own volition, not out of guilt for taking the day off. I really genuinely enjoy cleaning, when I am allowed to do it on my own terms. And our house was in desperate need of some love. After weeks of La being in rehearsals and shows, me working extra hours, IVF taking up brain and counter space, and my recent ennui, the cleanliness of our abode had suffered. We had managed to maintain the bare minimum so as to avoid descending into total squalor, but it wasn’t a pretty sight.
So, I did ALL the laundry (you know, the rugs and the towels and the sheets and the things that get left for last when you are just trying to keep yourself in clean underpants), scrubbed the stove and the sink, reorganized the shelves and scrubbed them off, dusted all the things – including the lovely baby-wish alter that we created and which has slowly collected dust and debris and generally not been well loved as it should have – and generally got our domestic lives in better working order.
Cleaning is one of the things I have always done to manage my anxiety, and it felt particularly good to take control in this way when, in so many other places in my life, I am most certainly NOT in control. Plus, there is a peace and contentment that can only really come from having a clean house. I feel really good about the use of my time.
After the cleaning was done, I headed down to the best local metaphysical bookstore to get my woo on. Inspired by some QT spent resurrecting the baby making alter, and my super woo boss who gave us all little peridot stones to celebrate the equinox on tuesday, I thought I should get some new items. I ended up with a tiny and perfect Quan Yin statue, since she is the boddhisatva of compassion and mother hood, a bunch of stones (carnelian, jade, moonstone, rose quartz), new silk bags for my tarot cards (very much needed as they’ve been slip sliding all around in my drawer) and two little stone-on-string necklaces – one for La and one for me. I spent more than I maybe ‘should’ have, but I don’t feel guilty. It feels just as important as the ultrasounds and medications.
My final stop was the IVF 102 lecture at our clinic, with one of the embryologists explaining in much more detail the process of retreival, fertilization (including ICSI) and growing the embryos. It was so fascinating! We watched a video of ICSI, and he talked in depth about how the embryos grow. They also spent some time explaining their program – a lot of which I knew, and some that I didn’t. Our clinic is now majority FETs (frozen embryo transfers) with CCS/PGD (chromosome and/or genetic biopsying of the embryos) (simply because more people are opting for it – we did, reasoning there was no reason to spend that much money without doing CCS.) And, because of this, they are also majority ESET (elective single embryo transfer) They credit this for their very high SART data (for both live births and pregnancies) – which is one of the reasons we chose them. La came with me and, for the first time ever at the clinic, we were unabashedly homosexual together, which is usually not possible because heterosexist assumptions, and our brazenly capitalizing on them for our own benefit.
Thanks to all of you who sent chicken well wishes, Rose appears to be doing much better and, as of this morning, was released from crate-rest back into the
loving aggressive arms of her flock. We still don’t know what her prognosis is, but are hopeful it is not chicken cancer virus paralysis.
And, finally, I am officially the single occupant of my office, at least until we re-hire Crazy Eyes’ position. I am thoroughly enjoying the lack of awkward shared space.