Today I have been in meetings almost all day, for which I am grateful, because I imagine my productivity would have been close to 0 if left to my own devices (those devices being my work laptop and my smart phone.)
Instead, we had a sub-par interview with an intern (sad but part of life), an interesting share-back from my boss about communication strategies (she’s a master trainer in Nuero-Linguistic Programming and the stuff she shares is *fascinating*) and then a heady and wonderful strategy/visioning meeting with two folks – the kind of meeting I am built for, and which including a drawing with smelly markers, which is my fave way to vision. And then the day was suddenly . . .over.
I’m so grateful for the vast amount of support going into this, from my acupuncturist giving me a huge hug yesterday to the rose quartz fertility stone from my boss on my desk this morning, to friends scheduling time to bring food during our ‘bed rest’ time . . .I feel incredibly held. Even this lovely space and the folks on the babycenter GLBT board(the only one I frequent) make everything feel a little bit easier.
Still, this feels huge. So much build up, for such a quick procedure, and then its all out of my hands. #3 either burrows in, attaches, keeps growing, or it doesn’t. We have now done everything we can to set the stage for pregnancy, and there is still so much we can’t control. I’ve said before, and I’ll say again (with trepidation and unease on the eve before our transfer) that I am glad that there is still a miracle that must happen in order for pregnancy to be achieved. I wouldn’t want this to be sure fire, 100% success. I want there to be something we don’t quite fully understand, something that cannot be manipulated to produce a specific outcome. We come close – so close – but there’s still a chasm to be crossed. Only God, or Science, or the Universe can make that part happen.
I am glad for that, theoretically. I don’t want to test my trust in that beautiful sentiment though. I want the chasm crossed and I want to see the footbridge across it, too. But I can’t. There is no bridge. Its a leap.
This afternoon I thought about singing, “I’m getting pregnant in the morning . . .So get me to the clinic on time!” (Kinda like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lPfW0Wc5hxI) – because yes I do think my life is a musical – and then I got nervous . . .where’s the middle road between optimism and over-confident? Should there even be a line? At this point, don’t we deserve to be making audacious claims and believing them with full hearts, even if they may, actually, turn up untrue? Why do we all brace ourselves from believing this could be true? To save our hearts, we might say. But it is impossible to enter this gauntlet without believing you will make it through – why else do it?
I’m waxing heavily philosophical, as you can tell. Maybe its for the best – keeps me from being too firmly planted in a reality I can neither trust, nor control.