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I cannot believe it’s been almost 3 years since the birth and death of my first born son. Our lives would have been so different had we had a 3 year old running around here.  I miss Silas, the promise of Silas, what could have been our amazing little boy.  I feel cheated of his life and what these last 3 years could have been. Of course we made the best of it, in all the ways that we could. We have amazing people in our lives that are supportive and awesome which has helped. I write here often of all the things we do to make our lives full and fun, but a piece of our hearts will always be missing, despite what we try to do to find that happiness.

This year feels different now that I’m pregnant. Last year we were apart for this weekend. I was traveling out west and Chris was here at home. It was hard on both of us, and we promised not to let something like that happen again.  With the beginning of Sept comes the natural anxiety.  It brings us both instantly back to this time 3 years ago, waiting for our baby to be born. All the things we had to do to get ready, the weather changing and with it a change of seasons. It’s really strange how much our bodies just sense this timing and naturally react to it. This week in particular I’ve been overly emotional. Today I woke up just pissed. I didn’t feel like getting up, going to teach, and really doing much of anything. I still feel mopey and sad and knew that a blog post was important to help me get through it.

This last month has been emotional on so many levels. Chris definitely feels like he is powerless and thus needs to try to protect me as much as possible. I’m sure it’s hard for the guys to have to sit back and watch this unfold, without being able to control every move we make. I go about my day, teaching, driving, cooking, etc and just hope for the best. I hope that I don’t slip and fall, or get in a car accident, or do anything that could take away this precious life inside me. Chris watches me with bated breath, still wishing he could use that bubble wrap and keep me protected from harm until this little guy lands screaming in our arms. Since that is not practical, and yes, I have to live my life, we just try to work it out, communicate our fears and needs, and breathe that big sigh of relief that we got through another day.

We are close to picking our baby’s birthdate which feels awesome and weird at the same time. I had a Dr. appt today and a date is being requested, but they can’t schedule until 32 weeks, and I’m at almost 31.  I can’t even believe sometimes how my whole perception of birth has changed since losing Silas. I am thrilled to be with doctors (though I love the 2 midwives in the group too),  can’t wait to deliver in a hospital, and am truly looking forward to my scheduled c-section. I want a healthy, live, screaming baby and if this is how it’s done, I’m all for it.

So here we are, just patiently waiting for our first real live baby in our arms. I feel so close I can taste it, but man, 8 more weeks! arghhh!! I’m so ready for this. Every single day, I look at my belly and give thanks. I still cannot believe it- that I am really pregnant, and that it’s almost time to deliver this miracle child. With all the fertility treatments we went through, I feel like this babe inside me is truly a ray of sunshine that we worked so hard for. Every little kick reminds me of that, every day.

Despite all that, I do complain sometimes, even though I said I wouldn’t! Pregnancy is hard on my body- I tire easily, my feet get swollen, I’m uncomfortable as can be, I sleep poorly. Chris is quick to remind me how much we wanted this, but sometimes I can’t help myself!! I am truly thrilled, of course, but I am ready though. This baby feels like 4 years in the making- which is a hell of a long time to wait for a baby.

The hardest part though lately has been answering the question-

“Is this your first?”

It happens up to 5 times a day. Most of the time I say yes, just to make it easier on all of us. But I feel terrible about it every single time. In some ways I want everyone to know about Silas, but I know it’s just not appropriate to share what happened sometimes. I don’t think it will ever be easy, regardless of how I answer. It’s always followed up with a truly uncomfortable conversation that I really don’t want to have.

To get through this tough weekend, we made sure to make awesome plans. We are going to NYC and walking the Highline, meeting up with friends, seeing Wilco at Summerstage in Central Park, staying with my brother and sis in law who have all kinds of fun planned for us all weekend. The anticipation leading up is always harder then the actual day. That seems to be true each year. Maybe somehow my body knows though, that even though Sept 25 was the day I gave birth, it was a Thursday, so today was really the day it all went down. I just want to be sad and melancholy today, it just feels right.

As always, thank you for all your support, those who read, and those who read and comment. I am not much of a blog reader these days, but I truly appreciate that there are so many of you who still read and comment and follow our story.  I may find myself writing more and more as the time gets closer to baby, and as the anxiety & excitement increases.

So please light a candle for our little Silas Orion on Sunday, look up to his stars, and give your kids a hug for us. xo

The kicks and flutters are a constant now. It is so reassuring at 23 weeks that this little boy (yes, another boy!) growing inside me is active and healthy. I’ve had many tests and ultrasounds in this pregnancy, way more then in my first one with Silas. I think the combination of the IVF, my age and what happened the first time, has dramatically changed the way this pregnancy has been approached- by doctors and by us.

I also find myself comparing the 2 pregnancies often- because that’s what we do.  Different but similar aches and pains, the familiar flutters, the swollen feet and ankles, the need to stay fed and hydrated, to be well rested but still active and the never-ending amazement that I can really grow a baby inside my own body. I really still can’t believe it sometimes! I truly feel lucky that I get to be here, a place I’ve been dreaming of for so long in my life.

The doctor/midwife group we chose this time around is just different.  It is a more clinical setting,  but the warmth is there and the care is impeccable.  Some visits have been 5 min long- while others I spend at least 30 getting my questions answered.  They are on top of it, making sure that every need we have is met. I even got a call today randomly from one of the midwives, just to see how I was doing. She asked how all the doctors have been, if we’ve been happy with our care. She even asked if they were pronouncing my name correctly! So great. I feel like we are in good hands and very hopeful that this little guy inside me will end up in my arms screaming and healthy.

But as all of us in this community know, nothing is definite and things can go wrong, up to the very last minute. I’m still feeling pretty hesitant that this pregnancy can really end with a live baby. I won’t keep anything for him in this apt until he is alive & kicking. What do we really need? I don’t feel the pressure to set up a baby room (we actually didn’t do this last time either), or have clothes or diapers or anything here until it happens. All the stuff given to us last time is safe and secure at my inlaws. I am confident that when we need it, it will be brought to our home, ready and waiting for us. I refuse to register and really have a hard time even going to that place of decision making. What stroller, bassinet, car seat do we want? Beats me. I checked out what some of my friends have, asked a few questions, but don’t feel like it’s necessary to go there quite yet. I know, I know, a week before I deliver, I’m sure I’ll feel frantic if I don’t have this stuff, but for now, I just want to get through each day. I have lots of people who want to know what I’m going to do about work, daycare, etc. I am not planning a thing. I have some ideas and I know I want to take off some time, but to actually plan what we’re going to do after that is just not going to happen. I planned last time, and then had to take it all back. It was brutal. It just feels better to leave it out there and we’ll figure it out when the time comes.

I’m way more tired this time around. I think being 40 and pregnant is really hard work!  I wish I could exercise more, but it’s so hot on the east coast and so hard to get motivated to even take a walk! I am still teaching the kids yoga and am pretty much using it as my form of exercise right now. Every downdog feels heavenly, but my body definitely doesn’t move the way it’s used to! That I remember explicitly from last time. That crazy feeling of not being able to bend and stretch like I am normally capable of.

I know my sister does not want a big announcement made (sorry J), but her pregnancy, only 7 weeks behind me, is so very exciting in my family. My parents are beyond thrilled and daily texts from my mom are not unusual.

“How are my girls feeling today??”

It’s so amazing to see my parents so happy. They have struggled to deal with the grief and loss of their first and only grandson while staying hopeful that their 3 kids in their late 30’s will procreate sooner rather then later.  They have to listen to all their friends who only want to talk about grandkids. So now that both of their daughters are preggers, it is a really happy time in the Rosen family. When I start to think about the thought of “What if that IVF cycle didn’t work?” I get a feeling over my body that is so horrific, I don’t even want to go there. It happened and it’s all good. But it is still so hard to even believe sometimes.

We just got back from a fantastic trip out west for a good friends wedding in Lake Tahoe. So beautiful and so much fun. Of course we also stayed a few days in SF- bar hopping, coffee tasting, seeing friends, eating burritos and just enjoying ourselves immensely.  Meeting new babies (me with gifts in hand finally!) and seeing pregnant friends, all with a huge smile on my face and excitement for them that was real.

As always, the love and support we get from our friends & family, and those of you who read my words have kept me going. So I just want to say thanks.

I have come to the conclusion that I’m just not a great blogger. I have had many, many posts written in my head, but just have not been able to make the time to sit and write them. My focus these days has been on my business. So with that, I am working so hard to keep up with my Full of Joy Yoga blog- that takes a lot of effort on my part so go check it out and see what I’ve been up to lately.

I really can’t believe another year will come and go and we are still in this same damn place. When we took a break from fertility meds this summer, it was to get me strong, healthy and regular. Now almost 6 months later, that has been accomplished. I have a great acupuncturist who I see weekly. What I’ve found fascinating is that I’m back on a full moon cycle (is that tmi?). It’s definitely a step in the right direction though it doesn’t keep me from feeling frustrated and devastated every month I’m not pregnant.

The most upsetting part in this for me right now, is that my insurance will only cover 1 more fresh IVF cycle before I’m 40 and that date is slowly creeping up on us. I need to have that cycle completed by April 28. Which means I need to meet with our dr. and then basically start the whole awful process again next month.

I have finally gotten to a really healthy place, I am feeling hopeful it can happen naturally, yet my insurance has to dictate what we do. I cannot turn down a free IVF cycle. I have to do it and do it feeling calm and ok. It’s hard though, it’s stressing me out and pisses me off and I hate that I have to have my life revolve around insurance rules.

So that’s where we’re at. I wish my disappearance was because I was pregnant. It seems like every other day I am finding out about another pregnant friend. It is hard to be happy for them but even harder to not. So I just am (but after a good cry for myself). Facebook continues to be a minefield that can either entertain me or make me want to throw shit. But for some reason I continue to torture myself day after day.

Luckily Phish has decided to play a lot on the east coast, we have been trying to see as many shows as we can afford. As much as I love the music, it also allows my mind to wander and sometimes in ways that tear me to pieces. I had a blast these last 2 nights, but at the same time, almost brokedown and lost my shit multiple times. I don’t know how to be anymore. I feel as torn up sometimes as I was the day we lost Silas. I think these last 2 years I just have figured out how to fake it.  Don’t get me wrong, I do laugh and have fun, but that  layer of loss and sadness is always there. Sometimes I just hide it really, really well.

After having to put down Beans (unbelievable right?), we got new kittens Puck & Purrsephone from a friend.  They are super cute and lovable and definitely have given us something fun to focus on. New life in our home is good.

Somehow there are still people out there reading- which is amazing to me. Thank you for sticking by me, even when I feel like I have given up on myself.  As down as I can get, the hope is still there.  Chris and I are a team, and even when times get tough, we are in this together. We will make sure that we will have our family, and I am going to make it happen in 2011, no matter how or where or what, it will happen.

Though I don’t write much anymore, I do feel it is appropriate to write up a little something to honor my sweet little Silas who is not here with us as we approach the 2nd anniversary of his birth/death.

I have been traveling around the west coast these last few weeks, celebrating bachelorette parties & weddings and just hanging out in SF right now for the week. My sister’s wedding is in Colorado next week so it just seemed to make more sense to just stay out here rather then go back and forth for each of the weddings. So now I am here and Chris is there and we will not be together tomorrow.

This has been a wonderful week for me filled with friends & fun, but it has been a real challenging one for Chris who had to say goodbye to me last Sunday after our amazing Sonoma wedding weekend. He has had to work and deal with all the regular daily life annoyances. Without me there by his side, it has been quite challenging and emotionally charged.

I decided to hold a kids yoga teacher training this weekend in Berkeley- I thought that working (while having to be away from Chris) would be the only way to get through it. We’ll see. I’m doing alright so far, but these last 2 days have been harder then I’d hoped.

As I reflect on the turns my life has taken these last 2 years, I do realize how far I’ve come from that traumatic time. I still have that little place in my heart that is broken and probably always will be, but I also have found ways to experience joy, love, laughter, friends, music, food and all the good things that life also offers. I cherish my relationships and I try to be an extra good friend back. I know what it feels like to want something so badly it hurts, and because of that, when I get it, it will be that much sweeter. That I know.

There is a calm surrounding me right now. I’ve worked hard to get to this place. New pregnancies and babies still hurt deeply because jealousy is a normal human emotion that plays a big part in my world. But I’ve learned to deal with it head on, and because of that, I can hold my friends babies and hang with my pregnant friends and still be ok. I can’t let what happened to me take away my happiness for others, even when the jealousy seeps in. It’s a daily struggle, but one where I feel like I am winning more often then not.

As always, I have to thank you all for holding us up and holding us near. It is what gets us through.

So tomorrow, on Sept 25, please look up into the sky and think of our beautiful little boy Silas Orion.  Maybe light a candle, or honor him in your own special way, but definitely give all your kids some extra love for us.

The song Sorrow by Pink Floyd came on my ipod today while I was driving and I thought about how that word just nails how I’ve felt this summer.

Yesterdays -all of a sudden- fall weather threw me for a loop. After all the heat and humidity, to get this burst of fall sent a pit to my stomach that is unmistakable. It is that feeling of dread, that feeling I’ve felt only once before and that was last year this time.

The change of seasons now, of summer to fall, will always signify the impending birth and death of Silas. I remember that feeling all too well of hanging in our yard with our various friends and family members, weeks after Silas died, watching the leaves and acorns cover our yard. This time of year will never be the same again.  It just feels too soon for it to happen. It’s still August – I just wasn’t prepared for it.

Both Chris and I felt it yesterday. We didn’t even have to talk about it, but we acknowledged the change in the weather and that deep, dark pit it left in our stomachs. It’s been a tough summer for me. I haven’t worked all that much, and when I have, I’ve felt like I’ve lost my passion a bit. I’m a lost puppy right now. In between 2 lives. One that I’ve lived and one that I want.

It makes it really hard to be satisfied and fulfilled when you are treading in that in between place. I can’t ever have my old life back. The easy-going fun with friends & music & innocence. I don’t have that life I’ve been wanting now for what seems like years. We’ve been living here in New Haven for almost 3 years. This longing for a child has been with me for longer then that. We started trying way back when we returned from our 3 month honeymoon in SE Asia. That seems like a lifetime ago and a really long time to be wanting something.

I am taking a trip out west in a few weeks and I’ll be gone for almost a month. I’ve had that need to get away for a bit, to maybe find those parts of myself that I lost. I have my sister’s bach party in Vegas, a quick stint in LA,  our friends wedding in Napa, some SF time and then my sisters wedding in Colorado. Instead of the back and forth, I decided to make it a west coast journey, with time off to recharge, renew and let go.  Chris will be coming out for both weddings so as soon as I start missing him, luckily I’ll get to see him. Being without him will be hard, but I know we’ll manage.  It’s really the kitties I’m worried about. I miss them when we’re gone overnight!

The strange part of all of it is that we’ll be apart on Sept 25. I am doing a Kids Yoga teacher training that weekend in Berkeley and Chris will be home in New Haven. I know it will be hard for us to be apart on that day. But every single day of my life is hard now, so really, how much harder will that be for us? It’s just how it worked out.

Last week we rented a beach house with friends for a few days. The Phish shows we saw were really fun, but the real highlight was getting to swim in the ocean. Oh, how amazing it feels to dive in and under huge waves, and ride them to shore. I felt like I was able to leave behind some of the sorrow and grumpiness I’ve been holding inside me these last few months. Then yesterday’s winds and cold came and brought it right back.

I tried really hard to not pay attention to my cycle this time around. But since it lasted for 40 excruciating days, it made it almost impossible to ignore. Days 32 & 33 I thought, “hmmm, where are you period?”  I know you are coming. Days 34-36 I thought,  ok, this has happened before, I don’t feel pregnant, you must be coming any minute.  Days 37 – 39, ok, well, now it’s really really late. I must be pregnant. Right? BFN. Ok, so I’m not. Where the hell are you then? And onto day 40, I finally drank some ginger tea and bam, there she was. And so it goes. Story of my life. If I’m not going to be pregnant, then why can’t my periods just come on time? Why do I have to be fucked with? So unfair. Of course I googled “late period after failed IVF” and a shitload of posts from every baby/fertility site came up. I guess I should have done that a week before and spared myself the torture of thinking, am I? Is this normal?

I’ve been doing the acupuncture, chinese herbs, red clover, red raspberry leaf & nettles tea, royal jelly, false unicorn root path and so I just assumed all that would have helped my cycle get regular. Even though I am taking all these herbs and eating the right foods (though I have not given up beer- I have to have a little fun right?) and all that, I also did not pay attention to my cycle at all. I didn’t even know I was late until I went to my acupuncturist who said, oh, today is day 32 of your cycle. What? Oh, how ’bout that. I was proud of myself for not counting all month and not paying attention to any of it.

And look where that got me.

So, as my sorrowful summer comes to a close, I am going to continue to stay thankful for all the little things I do have in my life right now: Chris, the kitties, being back to my pre-baby weight (yay!) and a super fantastic Vegas weekend to kick off a few weeks of much needed travel.

Yes, it is true. IVF #2 did not work. Like a fool, I decided to test myself earlier in the week and it was a BFN. I know that didn’t really mean it was a BFN definitely, but I had a meltdown anyway. I think I knew in my heart of hearts that it was better to get the meltdowns done early, that way I wouldn’t have to ruin the weekend ahead.

We have a wedding to go to at Hunter Mountain, lots of good friends will be there. Friends we haven’t seen from SF in a long, long time. I was hoping it would be as much celebratory for our friends getting married as it would be for us – but it’s not. So this morning’s hpt didn’t shock me. I still went in for a blood test to be sure, and the phone call came and again, it was what I expected.

I have been mentally preparing for the inevitability of this news. I did not put all our eggs in this basket. I did not assume the 2nd time would work b/c everyone kept telling me that it does. I have been living with disappointment for almost 2 years. From the day Silas died, things just haven’t let up.

We work hard day after day to smile, laugh, have fun, live life. We have to. But it gets to be too much sometimes. During my meltdowns, I didn’t want to make myself feel better. I didn’t want to do anything except cry and be sad. Talking about it with my therapist, she said that was a really healthy way to go through my pain. To not hide it away, or go around it, but to just be in it.  It seemed to work, because the next few days leading up to today ended up being ok- I must have gotten it all out. I cried a lot in the car on my way home from the clinic today, but then got home, crawled back in bed with Chumby and just moped.

Now here I am, doing some craft project I have to get done, attempting to stay sane in this intense heat. The heat- man that on top of everything else has just killed us. I think b/c of how hot it is here in the Northeast this week, nothing seems ok. When its this hot & humid and things already seem bad, it just makes it worse. I love the heat, but this has been really, really hard.

This FET cycle was pretty easy. We went to see 4 Phish shows in 6 nights, while still working and sometimes even staying over at friends or camping. I was able to do my injections when needed, and managed to be ok emotionally. It was really fun and totally worth it, even though the running around and lack of sleep was hard on us. But I think because of that,  all of a sudden it was transfer day. It kind of snuck up on us this time around.

These last 2 weeks though have been much harder on me emotionally then I thought it would be.  The lack of exercise has really taken a toll.  Each cycle, the 2 week breaks have been getting harder- I am not very good at taking it easy. Somehow I feel like it’s my own fault it didn’t work again. Like maybe I shouldn’t have lifted that, or walked there, or eaten that.

We have decided to take a break with all this fertility bs. Just give ourselves some time to just be with each other and not have the pressure of injections & appts.

I won’t disappear. I need this blog and my writing to keep me sane. Thanks again for all the support.

That week was so rough, it pretty much knocked me to the ground. First a negative preg test, then getting my period and then having to start the injections again. The hormones were coursing through me – apparently it is so much worse when taking fertility drugs. I was more depressed then ever. Day after day, I kept thinking I would wake up and feel better. It took me almost a week- the longest recovery yet.

I was so angry. More angry then I have been in a very very long time. I was angry at my midwives for failing to deliver a healthy baby,  at my body for not cooperating and making me go through all this month after month, the fact that I have to work with other people’s children day after day without having my own, and that we are endlessly struggling to pay our bills. All of it. Angry that my 18 month old baby is not here with me. That I should be trying for live baby #2 right now and yet I’m still working on live baby #1.

I didn’t even want to do anything to help myself feel better either. Didn’t want to meditate, or do something fun. I wanted to be angry and wallow in my pain. I knew that it would lift at some point, so I decided to just stay there.

And then one morning I just woke up and felt ok. Just like that. The angry mood lifted and I was me again. I was able to go into the world feeling like I can smile and not feel like I wanted to hide away and never come out again.  It’s amazing what hormones can do.

But I’m fine now. I guess as fine as I can be. To get through yet another tough month, we decided to take the plunge. We finally adopted another kitty! His name is Beans and he is super cute and super lovable. Still a bit of a scaredy cat and Chumby isn’t making him feel too welcome just yet. But all in good time.  It’s fun having a new life to take care of and focus on.

The changing seasons have been freaking me out a bit. Wait, it’s spring again? How did that happen? When you’ve been through a trauma, especially one like ours, you see time so differently. I can’t believe that it was 2 years ago in the spring that I was newly pregnant. That last spring I was still freshly mourning the loss of Silas, but still hopeful I’d be pregnant again soon. And now, a year later, I’m still here. Still trying to get pregnant. Watching everyone around me have their babies. I know, I moan and groan about this fact constantly. But it’s wearing on me.

My job, though I absolutely love it, can wear on me too. I see these beautiful kids, day in and day out, and I long for one of my own. My work has saved me, I do know that. It keeps me going, it keeps me busy and it feels good to be part of what is actually helping our country. I am making a difference and that is important. But I have given so much to so many. I want to be selfish and give some of it to my own kids. It’s time already.

I watched 60 minutes yesterday and there was a special on Haiti and how many orphaned kids are out there now, kids whose parents can’t find them. It was heartbreaking. I cried my eyes out watching it- wanting to go there and do something about it. Sometimes seeing the big picture, seeing the tragedy affecting the millions of people all over the world helps me to see how lucky I really am.

I know I am lucky. I know that I have it good over here- people who love me, a roof over my head, and I’m healthy. And while I take the time to realize that, I also allow myself to feel sad for what I don’t have. I can recognize that balance, and that is healthy.

So while the lucky socks did not work last month, I was torn about wearing them again. I couldn’t decide if now they were deemed “unlucky” since they didn’t work for me the first time I wore them. Suffice it to say, I did not wear them this time around. We’re in the dreaded 2ww. Luckily we are heading to Florida this weekend to visit my parents and soak up the warm Florida sun.  Should be a fun distraction.

This past weekend of sun was good for our souls. Though it was fleeting, it was a taste of what’s to come and really, it’s hard to be pissed off at the world when it is a beautiful sunny spring day and flowers are blooming all around you.

I’m hoping that this will be another spring where I’ll have a blossoming belly- because it really is time.

So, the lucky socks weren’t quite so lucky.  It’s been a very rough month to say the least. The meds make my stomach hurt, I spend way too much time at the clinic, and did I mention that I have to inject myself with a needle every day? Then, to have to just wait and be patient and see if all worked.

I kept saying, “if it works, it’s all worth it.”

But then if it doesn’t? well what then? Back to the drawing board. Our nurse told us we have just barely scratched the surface of whats possible with infertility. A few cycles of clomid/IUI and one of injectibles/IUI isn’t much. So there is hope that something will work, but it is quite exhausting going through it.

We got pregnant naturally before and carried our baby full term. That means I can do it again. I keep thinking about that and it is what keeps us going forward. Knowing that it’s possible. When the doctors are as perplexed as us though, about why it’s not working, that’s when it gets so frustrating. Everything looked great, and I am doing all I can to support the process- acupuncture, light exercise, healthy diet, minimal alcohol.

I know though that so many women have been through the wringer when it comes to infertility.  For some, the costs can be outrageous. Our insurance covers most of it, but the co-pays and what it doesn’t cover start to add up.  I have read about women who have done months upon months of the meds, cycle after cycle of IVF, and still, no baby.  I can’t imagine having to put my body through that much torture.  And it feels like torture to me. This last month was one of the worst I’ve had in the last year and a half. And now I know what’s coming and am bracing myself to have to do it all over again.

I’m so ready to be happy again. I’m so ready for this process to come to an end. I want to be in a new place, with the hope of a baby (or babies!) at the end of this.

My rants are getting old.

There are moments I feel like it’s too much for me to handle sometimes. How am I still standing? How is it that I can smile, laugh and find brief moments of joy? But I do. We make the effort, in order to keep forging this path ahead.

In the midst of all this though, is navigating through a world where everyone around me is either pregnant or already has children. (oh, and btw, as hard as it is for you to tell me you are pregnant, it’s way harder for me to find out on facebook. I can handle it, truly.) The childless are dropping like flies and it all seems so easy for everyone else.

I don’t believe we’re the only ones struggling, I know that it has been challenging for others as well. But I guess when it is happening to you, it feels like time is standing still and that you are so alone in this endless journey.

I have a bunch of pictures above my desk, one of Chris and me when I was pregnant at a wedding. You can’t see my belly, but you can see the joy in our faces (along with my HUGE boobs). The other is from our wedding weekend, where Chris has his head resting on my shoulder and I’m wearing this awesome hot pink hat, some boas and a huge grin. We look relaxed and truly happy. Below those is a photo of Silas because it is important that he’s there. I need that reminder day after day that I gave birth to a gorgeous little boy.

I stare at these photos, longing for my life to feel like that again.

Sally Kempton, a tantric meditation teacher, shared that with us in my class with her at the sf yoga journal conference. Obviously it struck quite a cord with me.  I’ve been thinking of this statement as I go through my days. Fighting the feeling to let my loss and continuous pregnancy struggles get me down.

But I’ve been feeling so lonely these days.  I miss Bandha and his neediness. I don’t have a 17 month old tearing up the place like I should. There is a never-ending emptiness that can’t even be filled with all the fun we try to fill it with.

My trip to SF was just that- a complete whirlwind and pure fun.  I spent tons of time from one end of the city to the other, meeting friends for lunch, dinner, bars, hospitals, you name it. I ate so well and drank lots of cali wine. I took yoga, meditation, pranayama & acroyoga classes at the conference.  It was a blast. I went from friend to friend, place to place and did everything I could have wanted and more. I am lucky to have had the opportunity and I have the greatest group of friends ever.

Meeting Paige and Aliza was incredible. From the second we met, I felt like we were old friends. It was really easy- us babylost mamas speak a language that only we share.  Meeting Sev was awesome. I loved holding him and smelling him and taking in the new-babyness. I need that in my life. I don’t do that, I haven’t done it since losing Silas and I felt it was time. I am finding myself opening up to babies and pregnancy. I’ve shielded myself from it for a long time, for protection which is truly understandable. But I’m over it- so over it. So tired of being angry and sad – this trip helped open me up to the parts of myself that I miss.

I spent the following week after my trip pretty much on the couch every night. I crashed and crashed hard. I found it hard to do much else besides lay around and watch tv. The effort to fill my void with goodness truly took its toll when I came back to the loneliness I was escaping.  Don’t get me wrong, having Chris to come back to was the best. I missed him so much while I was away, it was hard to be out there without him! We are a team – more then ever, and without him I don’t feel whole. But there is a void that is hard to escape, and it fills our lives so profoundly.

I am working hard to meditate on this statement and rise above the shit we’ve been handed. What other choice do we have really? In so many ways we do have so much, and I need to recognize that as much as possible. There are so many out there rooting for us and its amazing. It is very powerful and it propels me forward and out of bed every day. With Chumby being exceptionally snuggly these days, it really has become so hard for the both of us to get up in the morning.

Chumby has definitely changed since we put Bandha down. She is all over us, both of us now. She is way more lovey with Chris then ever and it’s so sweet. It used to be all about me, but now she wants to snuggle with him too. We are planning on getting another kitty for her to torture- just waiting for the right time.  A new cat will definitely help fill the void here and piss Chumby off so bad, but I do think she is lonely too.

We’ve started the injectible fertility meds. I don’t really want to go into too much detail about the timing of it all. The only thing I’ll ask is that you cross your fingers that the lucky socks will work their magic when the time comes!

Last week I found the lowest of the lows.  I had some bad days in there, days where it felt like I won’t ever feel ok again.

But then here I am, feeling ok. Very ok even. I allowed myself to go there, to sink deep in the sadness, in order to feel the highs, the joy and the fun.

Last Thursday was a crazy day. I had to rush from one school to the next, all day long. I went from here to there and back again. My last class was at a yoga center and I taught until 5:30. The problem was that I needed to make a 5:56 train to NYC to make an 8:00 Phish show. I had some new students coming, so leaving early wasn’t a possibility. The owner of the studio offered to drive me to the train, and promised she’d get me there on time.

All week I had worked hard to figure out how I could make this train. I bought my ticket the day before. I scoped out places to possibly park my car if I drove myself. I asked some friends for a ride based on the possibility of leaving early. When Jen offered me the ride, I accepted knowing full well that we may not make it.

When I got in the car and the time drew closer and closer to 5:56, I was actually very calm. Jen, who promised to get me there on time- she was the one who was so nervous! I just thought to myself-

“If I don’t make it, no big deal.”

I had to. Otherwise I was setting myself up for a huge disappointment. And we all know how that goes. These days I find that I am talking myself into and out of all sorts of things in order to cope.

But, I made it, out of breath and with minutes to spare.  The train ride turned out to be as relaxing as it gets. After such a long day & the possibility of missing it, I was positively giddy! I did my crosswords, listened to the previous nights show on my ipod and just chilled out.

When I arrived, I had exactly 20 min to get from Grand Central to MSG. The race was on! Somehow, public transportation got me there meeting Chris inside as the opening notes began to play. By the time we got to our seats, I was so raring to go and thrilled that I pulled it off!

I had a great night. The music naturally takes my mind to places I sometimes don’t want to go. Like in Albany. Not this time- I made sure of it.

I had been so nervous that my downward spiral was just that. I really believed I would never get back out. That night I made a conscious choice to feel good and it worked.

The next day was also a lot of fun. We went and did a coffee cupping at the distributor where Chris buys his green beans to roast up for all his accounts.  A coffee cupping is kind of like a wine tasting. There is a whole methodology to it and I’m learning so much more about coffee then I’d ever imagined!

The show Friday night blew Thursdays out of the water. It was unbelievable, they were on fire. They played everything I wanted to hear, and it was just a perfect night of letting loose. Letting all the piles of shit fall off my shoulders as I danced my ass off.

Don’t get me wrong, all is not perfect right now. Far from it. The point is that I can still go there. I can find that joy- the fun, the place where I don’t feel like my world is caving in on me. I started getting nervous that I may not be able to do that.

I look back on how awful it felt to hear the news, and then how I needed to process it in order to feel ok with it. I’m sure that for some time, as long as I’m not pregnant, it will still be hard. All that matters is that today I don’t feel like I’m buried, unable to come up for air.

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