April 1, 2011 ~ Day 113 Mysteries and Blessings

I've been running behind with these articles and need to catch up on three of them... but this morning I experienced something truly moving and it seemed like the right time to write a post "in the moment" expressing a visceral current response to events that just happened.

(That said, there is a nearly two year old girl hiding behind my laptop computer screen and giggling, so it may be the BEGINNING of a post that will be continued ;-) Some things, obviously, take priority.)

This morning my daughter and I went to our second meeting of the mothers' church group in our new neighborhood. Once again, I arrived feeling exhausted, overwhelmed, flustered - basically my typical morning - and left feeling completely balanced and blessed by the life I am lucky enough to live.

I'm not too good with names but I recognized many faces at this week's meeting and the topic of the devotional was very profound for me as a mother and a woman.

The woman who offered the devotional (a beautiful girl about my age) spoke movingly and eloquently about the childhood plans she had made for herself to be a doctor and the alternate plans that God had made for her (to be a teacher and a mother). Whether you believe in God or not... and usually I *do*, but not called as such... her story is something that many of us can all relate to: the way in which life often has plans for us that are greater than the ones that we have for ourselves.

Obviously since I am both a teacher and a mother, I resonated really strongly with the stories she shared from her personal experience. I think everyone in that room could connect in some way to what she was saying about the future we've dreamed of/ prayed for/ built a life around - and the surprise of what life actually offers us.

In the breakout session I shared about the many plans I have had for myself along the way that have turned out not to be part of a higher purpose for my life... my plans to be an international trade lawyer, plans to be a major magazine writer, plans to become a school director; and how they were all beautifully but painfully derailed by "real life" including motherhood and (lately) illness.

Some of the questions given to our breakout group for discussion included: "What are the wonderful things about where God sent you?" and "How have you changed the world?" which really gave me pause for thought, and I realized that in every single curve of my life path to throw me further away from the original plan, I have indeed been given important opportunities to help others.

I didn't become a lawyer or a writer, but I did become a specialty teacher and later, a middle school teacher, with the opportunity to help over a thousand students all told. And even if the main assistance I gave them was simply the sense that someone in the world truly believed in them and their potential - that may have been enough of a calling right there.

Then I reflected on my health challenges and the way that they may represent another calling to help others - my husband was just asking me last night if I would ever want to formalize my learning around that and become a naturopath or doctor of some kind. The short answer is no, definitely not.

However the longer answer is that I get the opportunity more often than I wish was necessary to help others, because I meet people all too frequently who suffer from debilitating arthritic or autoimmune diseases. I am happy that I have been able to at least share my learning with others about what has helped me... and also share with them research about a likely infectious basis to many autoimmune problems. I've been able to pass along contact information for physicians prepared to help patients get back to a normal life by treating the infections that provoke irregular immune response... and who actually heal rather than simply covering up symptoms.

Just today, a prayer request was offered up in our group for a mother at one table who is suffering from a debilitating bulging disc in her neck and I was so happy that I could share with her the name and contact information for my pilates therapist who has helped me so much recently with my own cervical disc problems. She suffers from a kind of spondylitis and while I didn't rush right out and say, "This could be infectious! You may also want to avoid starch!" which is what I have learned from folks on my board in remission from spondylitis... I was so happy that I could help her at all.

Every time I hear the prayer requests I remember powerfully how lucky I am to lead the life that I do, and that all people suffer and have pain. Sometimes I feel like my life is very turbulent and then I heard today about the mother whose teenage son is bipolar with autism, punching her in the face, and I realize how my own son's temper tantrums pale in comparison to this kind of challenge.

There was also a prayer request made for a first grade girl whose mother took her in to see the doctor to check out a bump on her arm recently and it turned out that she has a rare and aggressive kind of cancer. On Monday this little girl will be going in for a really large surgery and I am going to be praying with all of my heart throughout the weekend, perhaps most especially her mother, because there is simply NOTHING worse as a mother than to feel entirely helpless to take care of your precious, vulnerable child who is suffering.

All of this really put into perspective my own worries about the fact that my eldest had a sore throat this morning that *might* be strep.

I guess the message that I took away from my morning experience with the mom's group today was GRATITUDE. Gratitude for the mysteries of life that lead us into directions we might never have fathomed on our own, which turn out to be so much more important than anything we did come up with in our own brain or heart.

Gratitude for all that I am so lucky to have at this moment, all of which could potentially vanish at any time - making it even more crucial to feel and express my thanks RIGHT NOW. Gratitude for the electrical signals in my brain helping me to formulate ideas... and for the gift of muscles and nerves that work well enough in my body to move these fingers along a keyboard to record my inner thoughts.

I feel endless gratitude for the life of the little girl dancing by my side... two years ago we weren't sure she was going to make it, or if she would have tremendous disabilities and life challenges. Yet here she is, smart as a whip and busy pulling my shoes one by one out of their hanging bag in the closet to build shoe castles on the rug and giggle hysterically as she tries to use each shoe as a telephone to call her father. "Daddy home?" she asks each shoe. "Daddy home?"

I'm filled with gratitude for this sunny day, the roof over our heads, the food we have to eat, the ability to take our eldest to the doctor if he *does* have strep throat... (the ability to defy bacteria and make him well...) and the magic of life that continues to propel me forward to make new friends, find groups like this special mother's group, and through it to get closer to my own experience of faith and unique connection to the Divine.

Today I am awed and thankful for the mysteries and blessings that continue to unfold with every normal, 'routine' moment. I suspect there really is nothing very average about any moment... all of them are in their own quiet way, fraught with meaning.

February 1, 2011 ~ Day 54Two Blue Lines

We called our babysitter a few hours ago to see if she might be able to watch the kids this Friday night so that my husband and I could go and enjoy some of our good friends performing live music - outstanding live music - at the indie bar where my husband and I first met nine years ago. It will be a tremendous show, the first performance for one of these two bands in three years. We would love so much to be there. My husband and I share a huge passion for live music; it's one of the first things that brought us together.

Unfortunately our babysitting options are limited right now, with one grandparent out of the country traveling and another grandparent struck down with the flu. Our babysitter Mary* is a brilliant and talented 24 year old college student who routinely garners awards and scholarships for her outstanding work, and we've been so lucky and blessed to have her in our lives over the past three years. Fortunately for her (and unfortunately for us) Mary is about to graduate from her university with honors and has already been offered a nearly full-time job which she begins next week.

Mary called a few moments ago to let me know that she was very sorry but she has other plans on Friday. Of course, we totally understood.

As I sat back down on the couch reflecting on Friday night and the fact that we will not be able to attend the show after all, I listened to the cheerful shouting of my boys in the bathtub being bathed by their dad. I felt a little old and a little trapped.

There are probably thousands of 35 and 36 year old American couples right now planning their Friday nights, and maybe most of them are like us - going to be home sitting in front of a movie On Demand instead of out at a bar listening to music with friends, because we have three beautiful children who can't be left alone.

Some of those 35 and 36 year olds however are probably not parents yet, and some may not even want to have children. Within that vast pool of mid-30s couples there have got to be thousands of folks who will actually be AT their local pubs on Friday night, sharing a pitcher, playing pool, hanging out, gossiping and even kissing in a dark corner.

Not long ago, that would have been us! How did it all change so fast?

Well let me tell you...

It happened one Saturday in November.

I remember the day vividly. November 5th, 2004 was a crisp, cool and extremely sunny. For weeks my fiance and I had looked forward to a special conference taking place at a prestigious 100+ year old hotel in our town... our Bay Area alma mater was putting on a day of lectures here in southern California hosted by university professors and it happened to be taking place at this really beautiful hotel near to our home. We were both enthusiastic about attending.

As alumni we were offered a special conference rate and had our choice of which lectures to attend. We chose to attend two - one on sustainability and climate change, and the other on stem cell research. The talks were interspersed with a luncheon and late-afternoon cocktail party.

We ran into a few old college friends throughout the day, happily sharing the news of our September engagement. "You look radiant!" one told me, and I blushed as I showed off my lovely new engagement ring which had just been sized to fit my hand. I remember watching the facets of the rows of tiny diamonds sparkle in the bright sunlight, then looking over at my fiance and thinking to myself that I was the happiest and luckiest girl in the world.

We'd been engaged nearly two months and were deep in the throes of planning a July wedding, investigating venues and trying to match our ideals (simple, homey, warm, connected to nature) with the ideals of our families (200+ guests to invite, the yearning for a church wedding, a formal reception). We'd managed to settle upon a few key details... we would be married by a dear friend expert in Buddhism (I'm not sure we've ever told him that we planned to have him officiate!) and we would follow along in the tradition of my husband's parents by holding our wedding reception in his grandmother's lavish back yard.

I really loved my fiance and after more than two years together I was beyond elated when he got down on one knee and proposed to me. (Another story for another time...) Picking out the ring together, planning our future and our honeymoon, every day was starting to feel like a dream come true.

So that Saturday as we mingled with other alumni at the conference and I watched the light dance and sparkle on my hand, I was truly aglow with pride and joy.

We were crossing the main street in front of the hotel, standing at the corner waiting for the stoplight to change, on our way back to our car. Chatting amiably about our honeymoon plan to go to Spain, with my husband telling me about his old friend in Barcelona that we would definitely want to see while there. In a total non sequitur I added, "You know I think I'm going to take a pregnancy test when I get home, my period is pretty late."

"Oh yeah? Isn't it always a little late?"

"Yeah I know, it's no big deal. I'll just take the test to relax about it, and watch, then it will start like ten minutes later. So anyway, what other cities should we try to see beyond Barcelona?"

And that was it. Neither of us thought about it at all, we got so wrapped up in our honeymoon planning that I almost forgot to take the pregnancy test. We started to cook dinner, and then I remembered.

"Be right back," I said.

This wasn't the first pregnancy test I had taken in my life. I was twenty eight years old, and my cycle could be erratic. So it really wasn't a big deal to me, especially since I suffered from debilitating endometriosis. My OB/GYN had told me just 6 weeks earlier that it might be very difficult for me to achieve and maintain a pregnancy due to my condition... "Only time will tell," he said. "You never know with these things. Some people have terrible endometriosis and get pregnant easily. Others have a minor case and are infertile. You never know what will happen."

So on November 5, 2004 it wasn't so unusual for me to take a pregnancy test completely convinced that it would be - as usual - negative. I had even taken to purchasing the generic store brand of test because I didn't want to waste any more money than necessary simply convincing myself that yes, my period was indeed on its way.

Except that this time, it wasn't.

I waited the obligatory two minutes and returned to check the test, completely stunned to find that there were not one, but TWO blue lines filling the plastic window. Momentarily confused, I checked the package to make sure I was reading it correctly. "Oh. My. God."

All I could think of that moment was my fiance, cooking our dinner in the next room. Who had been my boyfriend, only two months before. It had taken over two years for him to propose and on the night when he finally did, and I accepted with tears and laughter, we had sat on the back porch for hours under the stars making plans for our future. We'd agreed that we both wanted to have three children and also that we wanted to wait for a while after getting married before starting to try for children. Our plan was to start 'trying' for a baby when I was 31... in three years.

Three years, not six weeks.

Yet before I could even open my mouth to speak the words, "I'm pregnant", I knew beyond a doubt that I would keep the baby. This was a baby created in love with the man I loved and who had asked me to marry him. I was 28 years old with a stable job, health benefits, and a warm and supportive family living in the same town. I had always wanted children, and this was the first time I had ever fallen pregnant. It was an unexpected miracle, a blessing straight from God.

At the same time, I felt terrified. I did not want ever, for a single second, to worry that my fiance would feel trapped into having children before he was ready. 'Instant Family' was not part of the plan we had made together. It wasn't part of the relationship we had built. I decided that the only honorable thing to do would be to offer him a way out. I needed assurance that he was making his own choices based upon his heart and dreams, not due to a sudden life-changing surprise.

"Honey," I came into the kitchen.

"Uh-huh?" Stirring the pot. "What, babe?"

"I'm pregnant."

"What?" He dropped the spoon he'd been stirring with.

"I'm pregnant."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I think so. It's the only positive test I've ever had."

"Let me see it."

Both of us were pale and wide-eyed. He followed me into the bathroom of our house and stared with me at the small plastic window with the slashes of blue like lightening bolts hurtling through our lives. "Oh. Wow."

Unlike the lovely day spent at the conference, that evening flew by in a blur. We took two more pregnancy tests until they were lined carefully along the bathroom counter, POSITIVE POSITIVE POSITIVE. We sat side by side on our bed, holding hands and staring into the future, and spoke quietly and deeply.

"I am going to have this baby," I gently told my fiance, "because I love you and I have always wanted to be a mother - and I am old enough and in a good financial position to take care of a child even on my own. However, I want to release you from our engagement if you would like to be released, because I don't want you to feel trapped into becoming a father before you are ready."

Decent and warm-hearted, he responded in less than a millisecond. "No way," he replied. "I love you and I asked you to marry me because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We always said we wanted three children. I just didn't think it would happen so fast."

"I know. Me neither."

"Wow. I'm going to be a dad. I'm someone's father!"

"We're going to have a baby!"

We held each other and cried.

My mother sometimes reminds me of a simple Yiddish saying she learned as a child: "Man plans and God laughs". God may have been laughing at us that day, but it was a rich and beautiful kind of laughter filled with treasures and miracles.

For six weeks we'd planned a summertime wedding on July 9, 2005. Instead we married quietly and privately at the end of November at City Hall in San Francisco. We returned to our home and town eager to attend our first prenatal appointment to hear our baby's heartbeat together... and were stunned to learn its due date: July 9, 2005. "There are no accidents in life," my now-husband smiled broadly. "This baby has been waiting for us. He or she is truly meant to be with us."

And that is how it happened that six-and-a-half years (and three healthy children) later my husband and I will be sitting home holding hands on the couch this Friday night rather than listening to our friends do magical things with their guitars, drums and voices in a dark and smoky room... because we were once blessed with such an unexpected, life-changing, awe-inspiring gift. Fertility.




*Name changed to protect the privacy of the person in question