Anticipation

Last week, a friend sent me a wonderful little package in the mail with little gifties for myself and the Kidlet. Each item was wrapped in some way, different kinds of envelopes and wrapping paper. It was all so delightful that I lingered over the unwrapping. One small, cute package was wrapped in colorful frog paper. I found myself being tempted to leave that wrapped just to savor the thrill of having something to unwrap!

Ahh, anticipation is such fun.

Or is anticipation is a large portion of the fun? Unwrapping, wondering, letting the wash of happiness that someone gave something to you wash over you, then marinading in well-being. Happy, happy.

Why get exactly what you want, as soon as you want it, when you can wonder what it is you are getting? It's that crest of the wave before things are known.

How much each gift gains from being hidden and presented.

It's knowing that someone thought of you and is bestowing some special thing. It's knowing that they anticipate in their own way, how much you will be surprised and appreciative of their choice. It's knowing that something is entering your life as a new thing.

It's knowing how easily one could miss the gift if one didn't have to wait some small or large amount of time to receive it.

A baby gestates, a package arrives, a date on the calendar slowly creeps forward, seasons shift and turn, a face long-anticipated comes into view. The wave gathers energy and rolls into your life. It's a good thing in the scheme of things.
--

I'll Take the Awesome

I've been writing this post in my head for weeks, and each time, I ramble, I start over.

I've wanted to talk about this, but I've been shy. To put it bluntly, I find myself wholly unexpectedly, happily and nauseatingly pregnant. Yeah. I know! It's big.

To put this in the proper context, I should tell you that we started trying to conceive less than a year into our marriage, spent what felt like several years being repeatedly, heartbreakingly disappointed (2 years of medical assistance did zilch), another year of adoption paperwork, and another couple years of waiting. And waiting. Which is all to say that when my period didn't come and didn't come, I thought, "Yeah, RIGHT." I wasn't about to get suckered into thinking it was anything special.

After a number of weeks and a few leading symptoms (*ahem* ravenous appetite, expanding bosoms), I thought, okay, let's see what the hell is going on, because this is looking a little too suspicious. I dug into the back of the closet where my stash of pregnancy tests had been waiting to be thrown out, and peed on a stick.

Hot damn, there was an extra line. Unconvinced, I waited all afternoon to work up enough liquid to pee on another stick. Different brand, unexpired. Another double line, immediately. Followed by a blood serum test that the nurse announced to me as,"Yes. You. Are!"

Okaaay.

Since then, we have been working our heads around the idea that somehow we managed to beat our miserable odds. Or as my husband frequently puts it, "Yea! We're pregnant!"


Things I did in the weeks before I knew I was pregnant:

Ate lots of tuna salad
Ate extremely fresh goat cheese (yummm!)
Lifted heavy rocks
Did daily abdominal crunches
Had my feet X-rayed at the podiatrist's
Moved freshly composted manure with my bare hands
Changed the litter box
Drank water out of my plastic bottle every day
Threw out all my old pregnancy books

Things I've done since I discovered I was pregnant:

Eaten an egg or two a day
Felt miserably sick
Gotten up in the middle of the night to pee and eat a snack
Had very vivid and emotional dreams
Been choking down monster-sized multivitamins
Bought/borrowed several new pregnancy books
Wondered how a formerly-known-as-infertile should share this news (Could I be more of a cliche?)


Of course, I feel gleeful, grateful, ill, and extremely lucky. I'm also wary of both the capricious whims of the universe and of all the idiotic and hurtful things that can come out of people's mouths. (As an IFer, I've already experienced both. A lot.) I get stressed just thinking about it. I am en garde to fend off the inevitable.

But when one of my friends very early on guessed what was going on and was so happy for me, I realized that I did not have to hold myself back from all the positive energy that comes with good wishes. It's very warm and nurturing. I bask in it.

My main concerns are keeping a good personal space for myself and M, nurturing myself, and not trampling on any IFer feelings. Again, I have been there myself. It's so odd to be on the other side of the situation. We are slowly sharing the news.

Yes, it's a fluke. Yes, it's marvelous. It does not mean I suddenly did the right thing that you (the imaginary you) were convinced I should have done. It's simply that we've fallen into favor with the fertility gods. It's another "yellow iris," the gift that appears when you least expect it.

Surprisingly, I haven't felt all that anxious, perhaps because I am extremely well read, and hey, information is power! On the other hand, there are still a lot of unknowns. I've been fatalistic about my chances of miscarriage and/or birth defects and genetic abnormalities. I figure that like my period, it would happen or not. But now that we have an upcoming appointment to see how myself and the little kiddlet are doing, my superstitious self is kicking up bloody hell. I want to see, but I'm afraid of bad news. I've been enjoying my little bubble of contentment (despite the nausea), and it may be in danger of bursting. "I'm sure you'll be fine" does nothing for me. I want concrete information. I want to see the heartbeat. August can't come soon enough.

I know I sound wary. I can hear people now: "just relax and enjoy it!" It is not a matter of relaxing; I am pretty damn gleeful and content when I am not feeling ill. It's a matter of not wanting this gift yanked away from me, and how the unknown stirs up all kinds of emotional muck from the depths. The universe is capricious. All the advice in the world does not begin to address both the awesomeness and the sorrow that is all mixed together out there.

But for now, I'll take the awesome. It's: Yea! I'm pregnant!

I am amazed.

I remember - I learn

This week I started attending a new yoga class for women. I haven't been going to a yoga class for about 3 years, preferring to save gas money and continue a home practice. However, the home practice has been a little spotty and my body is feeling the need for more focused self-care, so off to class I go!

It was the very first session of the class. Most of us didn't know each other. We gave each other friendly little glances, but mostly kept to ourselves, still sneaking peeks at each other--how is she doing that? am I supposed to lean over more? how on earth can I do that?--yet mostly self-absorbed, which is actually ideal in this case. We are not trying to compete with each other, just trying to figure out what our bodies feel like in this yoga practice.

I liked the teacher. Very kind and nurturing, yet clear about what is ideal and safe. She's just getting to know us, too.

My favorite part of the class was doing some of the standing poses and feeling the muscle memory returning. Some balances are precarious, yet my body remembers to lean backwards just enough to keep me aligned. It was a good feeling. A powerful feeling!

How does my body remember?

For instance, how does it remember to stand up straight so my back is happy? To turn and acknowledge someone? To roll out pie crust? To thread new salt into the narrow neck of the shaker? To play ping pong or throw a frisbee? How it feels when grief moves through the body? Or how a dance connects and progresses? How to draw a fine ruled inkline without a blob at beginning or end? To tighten a bolt just so? To balance on one leg and a block?

I think the body just remembers. I know that's not an answer. Think of it more as a philosophical musing.

The brain keeps any neural pathway that's had active use, maybe letting it fade with disuse ("use it or lose it" some people say), but eager to open it up again when we have occasion to strengthen it. So some of those little-used pathways may have died back, choked with weeds, or more likely, overgrown with the everyday actions of our lives, but traces still remain.

It's reassuring in some ways. Yes, we can get caught in old responses, we can neglect old skills. Yet there is something still there to call back when we need it. And the body rejoices--I remember!

I remember what it's like to feel my body balanced and dynamic.


My favorite new part of the class was playing with what yoga people often call "flow," moving poses in synch with ones breath, in and out. I've never taken a "flow" class, preferring to solidify my physical understanding of each pose in Iyingar yoga, using props to support each pose and settling in to experience each one at length.

Here the flow seemed to make sense for the first time. We did eagle pose with flow, slightly raising our heads and entwined arms with each breath in, lowering them with each breath out. Moving with our breath was also a welcome change for several other poses.

Using flow seems to enjoy and encourage the ebb and flow in our bodies and our lives. Nothing stands stock still. Everything is constantly changing or flexing in cycles. Even something that seems rock solid may be changing slightly on a cosmic scale.

And our lives and bodies change too... constantly flexing and moving, cycling through different phases.

A new phase in life - exciting, scary, invigorating, wearying.

We see our old life, our old ways, while we are pulled towards our new ways. Or maybe the new ways are variations on the old. And so we flow through our cycles and explore new pathways. My brain is certainly being stretched, and my body too. We are all part of the same animal.

I think I'm ready for new experiences! Just trying to stay in the flow.

Mystery Iris

A lovely yellow-and-white iris has started blooming in my front yard out by the street. The mystery of it is that I did not plant this! I have several other kinds of things I've planted in this section of garden over the years, but I never would have gone out of my way to pick *that* color of iris. So where on earth did it come from?

Maybe it piggy-backed from another planting when I transplanted daylilies many years ago? Maybe the previous owners planted it there ten years ago and it's just now coming up?? Maybe my neighbors or someone planted a couple as a surprise??? Did I plant it but completely forget about it???? I'm grasping at straws, here, because there is really no clear reason for it. There are plenty of other plantings in the same area, so why this, now?

Eh, maybe it doesn't matter where it came from. Whatever the reason, it's a delightful surprise and looking glorious.

Now I'm thinking, hmm, ya know, that's a nice variety... I may even need to put in a few more to plump it out the stand.

So, thanks, Universe for the unexpected gift. Pretty cool.