Posted by: perchancetodream | January 2, 2008

Consorting with Kings and other sundry tales

And so it is 2008. Funny how many of us blog-types are seeing our last hopes for a child within this year. I imagine that if we end up adopting, it will be post-2008 but as I’ll be turning 43 this summer, I don’t know how much hope I have in my biology holding out into another year.

This year so far is off to a rather blue start. Hubby is depressed about issues I can’t change, I’m back at work with tons on my desk and a noticeable lack of focus – even though said focus is high on my list of new year’s resolutions, and I’m generally feel quite alone in all of this. Not that I don’t have love and support, I do from many directions, but I’m feeling a lack of control, I think, in pretty much all areas of my life. I’m having to fight to remember to take my folic acid and to just muster the usual amount of energy I usually have when tackling a problem.

I’m also finding that for the first time, I’m sensitive to being around children. I’ve always found against this with varying degrees of success – I don’t want to shun people just because they have something that I haven’t been able to achieve but some times are harder than others.

Last Sunday, coming back from a post-Xmas shopping trip, we were on the bus with a couple and their son. He wasn’t the cutest child in the world or probably even the smartest but she was the type of mom that I want to be: she kept pointing things out on the bus, asking him his colors and numbers and making a game out of learning. She was constant and firm and compassionate and it made me tear up. I hope I get the chance to be that some day.

Anyhow….enough of that….my most recent entertainment obsession has been Showtime’s The Tudors. The first time I watched it, I watched for the pageantry of it all – I’ve worked in enough theatres to imagine the discussions that went on behind the scenes when choosing and designing the glorious costumes, music and lighting. Plus, my time spent living in England aside, I’ve always been more than a bit of an Anglophile (obviously more in fantasy than reality). And somehow they’ve managed to bring good acting along to a show that manages to be thought-provoking AND so steamy I thought the tv would melt.

Anyhow, while gearing up for Season Two, I read the recent novelization of Season One. And this time was caught by the fact that Queen Katherine, in addition to giving birth to Mary I, had five children who were either stillborn or who died shortly after birth.

Having just picked myself off and dusted myself off from my first miscarriage, I shudder in in awe at anyone who can go through that and survive with any sanity intact at all.

Meanwhile I go to my RE today to make sure that the clinic didn’t muck up the D&C and, hopefully to get some info from him on when he thinks my next cycle might start because we want to get away for a long weekend of wine and hot tubs, which we’ll have to squeeze in before renewing my dependence on follistim and ultrasounds.

While I was in California, the organization I work for unveiled a new publication. I won’t go into all of the significance here but will say that it is a groundbreaking religious book, written by women but for use throughout the Jewish world. Once of the pieces included in the book, which was read at an event echoed so much of what’s in my heart, and I’d chance a guess, in many of yours as well. (Apologies in advance for any copyright issues, I’m not making money off this, really).

For a Child Not Yet Conceived
– Pamela Melnikoff

Your room awaits you, and a cherry-tree
That never bloomed till now; and clemaris
Purpling the kitchen wall; and ancestors
Whose faith and kindness reach out down
the years
To touch you with their light; and happy
friends;
And books and music, art and poetry
And all the precious and God-given things
That we have found and hoarded for your sake;
And aunts and cousins; and a squalling nest
Under the eaves; and daisies in the grass;
Laughter and love, legend and fantasy,
And such a welcome as the flowers of March
And every blessing sent to make men glad
And all the saints and prophets never had.

Why do you linger still then, in that sad
Populous kingdom where our lost dreams are,
Ungathered fruit and every unborn thing?
The years are passing, and we pass likewise
And cannot wait forever on your whim.
You must come soon, or you may wait too long
And come too late, and find the hearth grown
cold,
The windows shuttered, and your parents old.

Sarah, they say, laughed when the angel told
How she, at ninety years of age, would bring
A shining son out of her shriveled womb,
And would my laughter, do you think, be less;
My miracle, and my sweet thankfulness?

Advertisements

Responses

  1. HUGS! I am not telling it’s gonna be easy but you will come out the otherside of THIS pain! IT took be about 18 months. The summer of 2006 was ultimately the worst grieving I have ever done after my mc on March 30.

    Last year was spent in a healing place.

    And I am telling you ALL looked so very, very bleak. If you want to email me , please do!

    Happy New Years!!! Wishing you many many joys this year.

  2. It sounds like you are in a sensitive space right now, and my hope is that you listen for what you need, and not push yourself. If it’s seems like too much to be around children right now, listen to your instincts and take some space. If works feels overwhelming, pace yourself, and try to do just what is in front of you and not think too far ahead. Often times, if you see that feeling of being out of control as simply a need to let go and be, clarity is not too far behind.
    I wish you every blessing in this new year!
    marina lombardo
    Iammorethanmyinfertility.wordpress.com
    http://www.iammore.net


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

%d bloggers like this: