The Wrong Sink?

The achievement of little things is never to be discounted. My new granite counter tops are in and my kitchen has been upgraded. The difference that beauty makes can never be overstated. I walk in and I pause in happy wonder.

As with everything these days, I see lesson for baby having in everything. But right now I am at a loss. I have been obsessed with granite counter tops since we bought the house. And now I have it. Of course things did not go smoothly. They installed the wrong sink. I complained to management, the plumber said the sink I wanted would mean tearing out my wall, I reminded him that that was why I paid an extra $700 for plumbing…

Whats a little muscle if it means getting what I want?? Is what I want not really good for me? Is this why the “wrong’ sink was sent? Was God behind that too? Do I fight for what I really want or do I settle for what fate has wrought on me?

Am I still talking about a sink here?

All In

The good thing about being down on the ground is that you cant get any lower. So the third doctor has told me that my tubes are no good and that I should get rid of them anyway. Make my self irreversibly sterile.  Until now I had not come to terms with the idea that with blocked tubes, I am in fact sterile.

I was hoping that as long as things stay in place that I could somehow miraculously open up and have a baby naturally. The operative word being “miraculously”. I dont know why because that word does not particularly resonate with me right about now.

So oddly, to increase my chances of having a baby I have to make myself permanently unable to have a baby.

I have agreed. I might as well put all my chips down now. Cause when you got nothing, you’ve got nothing to lose.

Are You There God?

So in the quiet space that I try to carve out for myself, I wonder why IVF did not work, at least the first time around. I have two frozen blasts. But the chances are around 30%. The first thing that hits me is that nothing has any meaning anymore. All the signs that I thought were signposts guiding me along were merely coincidences. They play tricks on the mind. Therefore I feel that I am being dragged along. Not moored to any belief or dogma. Some might say that I am mentally emancipated.

The second thing is that I really have not control. I did everything right. I had all the  right results and some were even better that expected. Even the doctor is surprised that I am not pregnant. Unfortunately for me, there is nothing more that I can do. This is not academics where one plus one equals two. I cannot do anything, work any harder. I simple have to surrender to what ever forces are working against me. What ever presence there is between me and my children. The frustration is palatable. 

My bitterness is growing and I find it increasingly harder to count my blessings, like my good husband, my steady job. my big house and my otherwise near-perfect health – for the time being. I see other people with their children and pregnant bellies. Of course they are everywhere now. I wonder why God has blessed them and have overlooked me.

But if everything is a mere coincidence is there even God?

 

Epiphany at Ann Taylor

I hate to trivialize such things, as to compare my feelings with clothes. But I had an epiphany in the most unlikely place: Ann Taylor. I was again shopping because I could not bother to excavate my mountain of clothes to find something appropriate to take home on my business trip. So, I did the next best thing – I went out and bought something new. And then there it was – The Long Black Dress that I had been ogling for months. Never went on sale, and when it did my size was gone. It was the only one hanging there. My size. Fits my curves perfectly. Great price. At that moment, I felt that the stars were aligned. There stood my dress, as if to remind my of the story of the little girl who ran through the grass unsuccessfully trying to catch ladybugs. She soon gave up and fell asleep only to awake find herself covered with the same ladybugs. As if to remind me that the universe is unfolding as it should. As if to say that in our grief and haste we often focus on the closed door and never see the small window that has opened. As if to remind me to never forget that I am still a leaf in God’s forest…

A Week of Thoughts

Friday night

Day follows night

And Night follows day

My feet hurt from this unending march towards nothing.

 

I stop and I breathe deeply.

I see the blue skies and sometimes I wonder where you are.

I never got the chance to love you.

I never held you.

You were stolen from me.

Who could have done this?

(And more importantly, why?)

 

I have tried to let you go but you are everywhere

Especially in every teardrop that I never let fall.

You came from me, but you are not of me.

You are of the universe, and there you are right now.

 

I have your christening dress,

And this morning I put aside some diamond earrings that I will give to you.

Will you ever come back?

 

Saturday Morning

 

The sky is always blue

Through the leafless trees, I can see the blue sky!

The sun is shining and that means hope.

The night has ended and a new day has begun.

There is living to be done…

Meals to plan and clothes to buy.

And shoes.

Ahhh the shoes!

Gone are the days when I forage for something to wear.

Eking out some morsel…some existence of style in which to feel good.

 

Oh how the sky is blue and ahhh, the brilliance of the sun.

Gone are the days when they say I need to change the way I dress.

I see the way they covertly check me out now.

The ugly duckling is gone. And so is their disdain.

A City on a Hill cannot be hidden

And on that Hill the sun never ceases to shine.

And how it shines so brightly!

It illuminates the envy in the eyes the bitches who watch me.

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday Night

 

At days end, I wind down to sleep.

Comfortable with the knowledge that  I did not cause anyone offense.

I see that the things in life we chase after are not the things that eventually makes us happy.

The new four inch wedge heel, hurts. Even to walk a block.

Yet my old trusted Sketchers, bruised and battered are so comfortable. I walk and walk in them to buy more four inch shit that I can hardly wear.

 

If only I could stop for a while and be silent. And figure things out. And listen.

But being still often requires great effort…

 

 

Sunday at Noon

 

Dear God,

Thank you for giving me such a beautiful day.

As You can well see the sun is shining brightly (as I like it) and the sky is blue.

My friends stood me up for brunch because their daughter took ill suddenly.

But that’s ok.

I understand.

I was not up for the fuss anyway.

 

I am forever grateful for the nice life that I have.

For my health and my strength.

And for my wonderful husband.

 

I did not go to church today because I did not want to see that woman nor hear her stupid baby cry out.

I am truly grateful for my blessings, my house, my clothes and shoes, and all the interesting books that I have yet to read.

The thing I am grateful for the most is that I am learning to nurture a spirit of contentment.

I am truly happy because I am learning to be still.

I am learning to look  around and to believe at long last, that I truly want for no more.

Once again I can hear the Silence!

Take from me, the memory of that which I cannot have.

 

I pray that I might be an inspiration to others, especially to her.

Because maybe then she would not always behave like such a covetous bitch.

 

Continue to watch over me, my friends and my loved ones.

Keep us safe.

And help me in particular, that I might not bring any hurt to anyone.

Amen

P.S. if it is not too much trouble please help me take off all the weight that I put on since I left India.

 

Monday Night

 

Ruby red jewels

Bright and high

I strut proudly

When my feet are adorned with jewelry.

87 by now! But who’s counting?

One more delivered this week

And then that’s the end.

At least until Christmas

One more. A red one. With black.

Caught my eye since September.

Vanity. Vanity. Vanity.

All is Vanity!

Did you know that red is the color of the gods?

 

Tuesday Morning

 

Here comes the rain again

I am in that quiet place now.

And its not raining there!

 

It was said a long time ago that Pain was the breaking of the shell that encloses our understanding.

I celebrate today because I now understand.

The higher I fly, the more I see.

I can see clearly now.

There is no rain up here!

 

It was said a long time ago that God is not in our hearts but that we are in the heart of God.

Let me lose myself and find it Lord in thee.

I am warm now.

There is no rain in here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday Night

 

Whither will I find the time?

To do all that I have to do.

Whither will I find the time?

To become my winged self.

Sunrise. Sunset. Sunrise. Sunset.

Rat race.

 

I leave, I return and then I leave again.

And in between:

Sometimes happy. Sometimes very happy.

Sometimes very angry.

Always spent.

And after: I have not very much to account for my time.

Sunrise. Sunset. Sunrise. Sunset.

Rat race.

 

Sometimes I shop. Sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes I like what I buy sometimes I don’t.

More, more, always more.

Too much is still not enough.

And always: I never seem to have anything to wear.

Sunrise. Sunset. Sunrise. Sunset.

Rat race.

 

I generally hate stupid people.

I run far far away. And sometimes I even hide.

I seek out the company of the brightest and the counsel of the godly.

And still: I am surrounded by losers, ever reminded of the fools that I am among.

Sunrise. Sunset. Sunrise. Sunset.

Rat race.

 

I am always at the gym.

Always on a diet.

Paying personal trainers.

Often still hungry, wanting one more bite and dessert.

And still: size 10 eludes me.

Sunrise. Sunset. Sunrise. Sunset.

Rat race.

 

Wednesday Afternoon

 

And in the solitude of my heart, I cannot dwell this day.

Hello Darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again

Fear has crept in.

And with it unbearable sadness.

How can I lose you now? Where will you go?

My friend, this is not really about you. No not at all.

This is all about me.

Some through great sorrow. But God gives a song?

Yet even when the Elephants play,

The grass is trampled.

 

Wednesday Night

 

I cannot cease from singing the praises of my good health.

I remember vividly the days when I could neither stand nor sit.

Nor lie, nor eat and enjoy,.

When I could not sleep

I made a mental note to self:

Always be happy if you are able.

 

I remember feeling that my body was a weapon.

A holy temple,

A shield against the dagger of the universe.

And then I remembered the days when it did not do what I told it to do.

 

I remember hating my body. Good health and all.

Wanting it to be different. Not remembering my note to self.

Ingratitude.

But we never miss the water until the well runs dry.

 

Wednesday Night Continued (Thursday Morning)

 

I remember the super human efforts it took to not to be sick in India.

My mind controlled my body.

And then I thought that I was god.

Be still and know that I am Joy.

 

Everything that you will ever need is within you.

I always felt that if I wanted something badly enough, it would fall into my lap.

Without me really having to try very very hard.

Anxiety is always killing me.

He said that I talk when I cease to be at peace with my thoughts.

I am not at peace

But still, I am not talking.

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday Night

 

I surrender. I surrender all.

And on the first day I noticed my bump was smaller.

More issues over the weekend, so back to the doctor I went.

I said it was breaking me down. But I still believed.

Two young girls, probing my belly, this way and that way. Lots of big words, I did not understand.

More bad news.

And still I believed.

 

And on the second day, I rambled on and on to my boss.

I drank gallons of water.

I spoke to everyone whom I could.

They told me to stay positive.

That God was able.

So, still I believed.

 

And on the third day.

I stilled my heart.

The next day I would know for sure.

The marvels of modern medicine.

Fear. And hoping for good news

I made myself believe.

 

And at the break of the fourth day.

Tears.

And then the trip to the doctor.

And finally answers.

Shock and sadness.

And the ever persistent feeling of constantly being fucked.

I ran to the hills, lifted mine eyes and hurtled curses towards the sky.

 

And on the fifth day.

Silence. Acceptance.

The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

No movement.

It is finished.

 

And on the sixth day

I surrendered all.

The watery grave that was my womb opened,

And gave up its dead.

 

And on the seventh day

I mourned.

 

 

 

Friday Morning

 

Morning has broken

And I will rise.

The night was long,

And the dawn of the day is obscured by my unshed tears.

But I will rise.

 

I am often weary,

Tired of the struggle.

I have to rise.

Smile, even though your heart is breaking.

All will watch, some will gawk,

And they will hate.

But yet I rise.

 

The burden of emptiness rests heavily on My heart.

And the Heavens help me rise.

 

So much to do and so little time?

So I have to rise!

Anxiety fuels and truth restrains,

And still I rise.

 

I am ever faithful, Joyful and triumphant.

Sometimes doubting, ever stumbling, always falling…

But then I rise.

 

With the wind at my back,

The sun in my eyes,

A Psalm in my heart

And a Song of Praise on my lips:

I will rise

I will rise

By God, I will rise.

 

 

 

The Rug for the Nursery

It may seem like a great act of faith to buy the green rug at Home Depot. The mint colored one with the alphabet that would match perfectly with the soft green that I had taken the liberty to paint the bedroom that would ultimately become my nursery in my spanking new four bedroom house. The same house that I suspect my husband made us buy to take my mind off of my miscarriage. He suspected that all the Ann Taylor clothes was not cutting it.

To others (and to me right now) its seems a great act of stupidity. But I am going to do it anyway.  Of course it  would mean more shit to get rid of  if nothing happens. Yesterday I felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of being pregnant again. Buying a rug for my nursery may seem a little premature considering that I just scheduled the appointment to see if  the endocervical polyp that I seem to get once a year what might be blocking up my uterus and preventing my almost 35 year old eggs from meeting my hubby’s boys.

So I am going to buy the rug.  And that is the only act of faith/stupidity that I am going to display going forward.

On the Matter of Distractions

The aura of the election has worn off and the burden of leadership has rested squarely on my shoulders. I felt depressed yesterday at my desk just anticipating the difficulties and the tough decisions that the Committee would face.

I think this would be the best time to conceive. Logically, having two things on my plate one would take my mind off the other. I had already envisioned that when I am at work and the Committee is stressing out I would concentrate on the bigger things in life like my pending newborn baby. Similarly when I am at home wondering if I am going to have another miscarriage, I would focus on the bigger things in life like my leadership of the Committee. Thats my plan. Of course the Universe is unfolding as it should.