Perfect Moment Monday - Fam

Because it's Monday. And I haven't done it in a while. Here's an update on the home front:

Last week's explosion left me feeling vindicated....for one hot minute. And then it just left me sad and tired from kicking someone when they are already down. I tried to put myself in my mom's shoes - displaced, still healing, completely reliant on other people and their care, unsure of what my husband's condition really is. In other words, helpless. And then I went and told her she was a sucky mom.

Whether or not I was right, I just didn't like how all of that made me feel.

So I tried to mend it.

I set up a lunch date for Sunday. And while I was at it, I made a little bit of an effort (as opposed to the zero that I clocked during the pregnancy) when I went to pick her up to pay attention to my cousin's new baby (who, dammit, is pretty cute) and to focus on their joy rather than the ouches in my own heart. I could tell it was appreciated.

Lunch went well. Neither of us mentioned the explosion. We didn't have to. Our meanness was spent. Now its time to move forward and try to figure out what the heck to do with dad. It was a nice afternoon. And I went home feeling lighter than when I started (except for that mound of Ol*ve G*rden pasta in my belly).

On to dad:

After much car wrangling, I made my way down to DE last Monday with my brother's (gonna be) souped up Honda while he worked on dad's non-starting minivan that I left behind.

And loved every bass-bumping, muffler rumbling, all-of-these-modifications-are-probably-illegal ride.

After a pleasant evening with dad on the couch watching TV, where he actually tried to understand what I do for a living (I still don't think he gets it but he tried. That's what matters.) we had what I thought was as good a consultation with a new doctor in a new hospital with a brand new cancer institute could be.

There are options. There are reasons the last surgery didn't work - namely, the place where we was simply is not equipped to manage high risk patients like my dad. The new surgeon agreed the best thing they could have done was quit while they were ahead.

We aren't any further along than where we were a few weeks ago. There's still a chunk of cancer in some diseased lungs that are barely held together by bubble gum and straw. But for the first time, I feel like we are in a place that can handle it. I feel like we have a plan complete with a backup plan if that plan doesn't work.

I feel like a little bit of effort went a long way into smoothing relations, helping my own piece of mind.

So, a couple of perfect moments in there:

• couch time with dad
• lunch time with mom
• lunch time with mom and dad with minimal bickering (rare!) when he dropped me back off at home
  
• holding a new baby and feeling not judgment, not envy, not anger, just love

And, um, have I mentioned these?

In Praise of Perfect Moments

Here's the thing: most Sunday nights and Monday mornings find me scrambling. Feeling semi-guilty for neglecting work I brought home over the weekend and didn't do...pep talking myself to death about how THIS week is going to be THE week I run or exercise every. single. morning...the week I get my shit together, the week I study for the CAE exam with focus and determination for a minimum of 7 hours....

Sunday night/Monday morning begins my weekly cycle of resolutions and to dos - some of which get done and some, alas, get rehashed the following week. One of the things that many times doesn't make it to the top of the list is writing my Perfect Moment.

I can't remember when Lori started Perfect Moment Monday. I just know the practice of paying attention and documenting one lovely thing that occurred during the week came at a good time for me. And it is something, unlike meditation, that comes fairly easily to me. Its a little dose of mindfulness that can pull me out of (and spare you from) the woooeeee is meeeeee-ness that can manifest itself here in a blog about infertility and loss.

I am not one that believes in everything happening for a Reason. I do not believe in a Divine Plan. Our world is one ruled (for lack of a better word) by Randomness. But Perfect Moments help remind me that randomness is not always bad.

So I find myself throughout the week thinking, "Oh, that would make a nice perfect moment....." and I make a mental note and sometimes that moment makes it to the screen and sometimes it doesn't. But its the noticing that I think is important. The practice of holding on, for just a minute, to the lovely.

So my Perfect Moment this week is about the recognition of perfect moments.

How meta is that?

**

Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between. Go visit Lori from Weebles Wobblog, founder of Perfect Moment Mondays to read where she and others found their moments this week.

Perfect Moment - Finding My Stride

Last week my pal A. said she needed a run buddy for Saturday morning and asked if I'd like to join her. I said, maybe. Because I'm like that, and also because running for me has always been a solitary kind of thing. Earphones on. Route chosen for minimal interaction with people. I couldn't imagine having to adjust to the pace of someone next to me, or worse yet, struggle to keep up.

Saturday morning arrived and A. and I were texting each other from under the covers. You up? Barely. We going? I dunno. You want to? It's kind of hot. Yeah. Should we postpone? Screw it, let's go. Ok. Be there in 5.

And off we went. Chatting the whole way. About half way to the trees, A. wondered if we were really going as slow as it seemed. So we picked up the pace. A little. Because it was indeed turning out to be a scorcher. We stopped to say hi to the trees, a place A. had never known existed until that morning, and headed back. Still talking. Talking and walking - wow! I can do it. And we made it home in a pretty decent time.

While a pleasant morning spent with a friend might seem like no big deal, nice but no cause for a moment of reflection, it kind of is. Our morning signaled to me that my running is evolving from survival mode, a coping mechanism, a task to be accomplished alone with my own thoughts into something that can be social, can be fun, can be shared. And that feels like a perfect moment.

**

And while we're on the subject, I just have to share a Perfect Moment that I neglected to post last week:

You know M. playfully says that when I run its like watching someone try to wade through molasses, right? Well, last week, as we were heading across the country on a whim for a weekend trip to see his favorite sports team evah (thank you, frequent flier miles and price.line), we found ourselves in the Detroit airport with just 20 minutes to get from the tip of Coucourse C to the opposite end of Concourse A before plane doors closed and we missed the only available connection to our destination that day.

Through tunnels, up escalators, down looooong halls with people movers jammed with people.

And guess who made it to the gate without breaking a sweat? And guess who arrived panting? Aw yeah. Now if that's not a perfect moment, I'm not sure what is.

**

Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between. Go visit Lori from Weebles Wobblog, founder of Perfect Moment Mondays to read where she and others found their moments this week.

My Space

Out on the water. In my kayak. All by myself.
Tucked away in a narrow channel.
Really no place I would rather be on a Sunday morning. Or anytime, really.
This is my space.
Now I just need to hold on to that calm and let it take me through the week.

This is my perfect moment.

**

Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between. Go visit Lori from Weebles Wobblog, founder of Perfect Moment Mondays to read where she and others found their moments this week.

Filling Up

As I looked back on the blog to grab the perfect moment sticker, I see a little pattern emerging: Bad, scary Friday full of anxiety and unknown can evolve into pleasant, calm, even renewing, weekend.

Is Friday now my hump day?

This last Friday afternoon, I was seriously dreading the entire expanse of the weekend that laid ahead of me. M. and I rarely have trouble keeping our acts together on the weekdays - there is simply too much to be done, too much routine that fills the empty spaces. But without those routines and regimens, sometimes free time can be scary. Because that is when you are able to stop and think what you would like to be doing with this time vs. what you are.

And that was my frame of mind on Friday.

And that is the beauty of blogging. By the time I laid down my words. In the process of writing down my words, I began to feel differently. And look. Just a few hours later, I had the bloom to share. Thank you for listening.

From that moment on, the weekend wasn't so scary. In fact, it was filled with some wonderful moments. I spent Saturday afternoon planting early greens on my balcony, trying hard not to sow the radish seeds too thick so I won't have to thin them later. M sat in his sweat pants doing a sudoku puzzle, trying to avoid my dirt (not easy if you see the size of our balcony). A dear friend stopped by for an impromptu visit and then M and I collapsed on the couch for the night (because by evening we were both going through a box of tissues and popping t*lenol cold tabs).

Sunday morning, I woke up with a sore throat, but still determined to drive down to see Lori, yes! the Lori from Weebles Wobblog while she was in the area, along with some other amazing ladies from the DC TOOTPU.

Did you ever walk into a room and think, "yes. this is exactly where I want to be right now?" That's how I felt seeing the smiling faces of Lindsay, Mel, Paz (who I met for the first time. d*mn is she gorgeous), Calliope and Lori (and knowing an omelet and an orangina soon would be mine).

Hours and hours later, when the lunch crowd started to come in, we finally said our goodbyes. But not before my heart was completely filled with laughter and love, ready for whatever the week might bring. Even the next scary Friday.

**
Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between. Go visit Lori from Weebles Wobblog, founder of Perfect Moment Mondays to read where she and others found their moments this week.

It's Like Killing a Unicorn, Man

Once upon a time, way back in the darkest days, M and I sat down one night to watch a movie. Defiantly so.

Oh, ok, everyone thinks this is the funniest movie ever. Well, we'll just see, won't we....

I should back up and inform you that even though our personal tastes in movies sometimes differ, M and I are united in the "if there's hype, we'll probably hate it," camp. Rational or not. That's just how it is.

So that is how we prepared ourselves to watch P*neapple Expr*ss. Overwhelmed by grief but all cried out. Sick of talking to each other but too exhausted to even attempt seeing other people. We sat down on the couch, grabbed a blanket, turned down the lights and prepared to scoff and snort and then call all our friends and tell them their new favorite movie sucked.

But despite ourselves, we howled. Snorted, because we couldn't breathe we were laughing so hard. Looked at each other like, is this that funny or are we straight up over the edge delirious?

Even though I was ready to chalk it up to the latter, I would still be forever grateful for the respite, the break from the pain. It was the first time we had laughed since our loss.

**
As you know, this weekend didn't get off to the greatest start. Friday's post was followed by an up in the middle of the night I'm-not-done-talking-about-this conversation/argument that lasted until dawn. We had made peace by Saturday afternoon, but it was still tentative. And both of our shoulders were still a little tight from working and looking into some new job prospects all day. No only was Saturday rainy, but gusts of wind erased any thought of a run, a walk, or even a wander downtown to see who else was out. So, Saturday night rolled around and we weren't quite sure what to do with ourselves.

Well how about it, P*neapple Expr*ss was on the DVR.

I hesitatingly agreed to push play. I was convinced that it simply wouldn't be as funny as the first time we watched it. But I was tired of fighting, tired of staring at my computer, ready to relax, and forcing myself into close proximity to M. and reminding ourselves we actually do like each other and like spending time together seemed like a good idea.

J*mes Franco, S*th Rogan, D*nny McBride = comic genius. We laughed just as hard. Maybe even harder since we caught things this time we missed as we were wiping the tears from our eyes last time. We spent our Saturday night wrapped in a blanket, reclined on our couch, holding each other, laughing. And it felt good.

And that, my friends, is my Perfect Moment Monday.

**
Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between. Go visit Lori from Weebles Wobblog, founder of Perfect Moment Mondays to read where she and others found their moments this week.

and I ra-a-an...

Encouraged by the fact that I didn't keel over on Saturday, even after M. said, hey, "let's go for a walk" and that walk ended up being a 6K+ stroll on top of my morning run, I decided to run again on Sunday. And I ran in the opposite direction.

Now, hang on. That's kind of a big deal.

But why? You say. Runners have a number of routes, a handful of favorite courses and plenty of variations to keep things interesting. You ran in the opposite direction on the same route you run every. single. time? Um, so what?

Well, here's the what. It's true, when I do drag myself out for a run, my route is fixed. Out my door, along the river, to the trees we planted for our daughters. Turn around. Back home. It is exactly 5K and I know every crack in the path between here and there. Despite the occasional gaggle of geese, fishermen by the dam or a galloping retriever off the leash, I know what to expect. I don't have to think that hard and I can focus on getting myself from one point to the next. If that seems to be working itself out, I can let my mind wander to things like writing blog posts in my head or remembering completely and totally bizarre dreams.

Yesterday, I was feeling a little, oh I don't know, adventurous. So I stepped out of my door and turned RIGHT instead of left. I turned right and stayed on the top path, the one with more foot traffic, the one facing the busy street, the one that's a little more exposed.

The one that I was running when I broke my leg last year.

Last year, when I thought I could run right out of my pain. When I thought three weeks after giving birth was plenty of time for my body to normalize. When I still believed there was a beginning and an end to the emotions that we ball up and label as Grief.

I know better now.

The last time I ran this route I was doing this funky stop/start, walk then run then walk again kind of thing. And I honestly think all that jarring is what did my poor tibia in. Pretending I could sprint one moment, then gasping and clutching my sides and just trying to get one foot in front of the other the next.

This time, one year later, I know I'm not the fastest chic on the block (and thank you, lithe 6-ft tall athlete man for flying by me yesterday to confirm that). But my pace is steady. I know my limits and I know when I can push them a little. I know what a good ache feels like and one that signals I'm stepping strangely and need to readjust.

I know there is no end to grieving, but there are days when the path is easier than others. There are even days when you are willing to try new paths to get to your destination. That's my revelation.

And this, my friends, is my Perfect Moment Monday.

**
Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between. Go visit Lori from Weebles Wobblog, founder of Perfect Moment Mondays to read where she and others found their moments this week.

Perfect Moment: A Conversation

Yes, ok. I'm sorry. I confess. I did "bury the lede" in my last post and Nutmeg rightfully called me out. Sorry. Sorry.

But I wasn't doing it to be coy. Seriously, I honestly just HAD to blurt it out and I wasn't sure how to segue into that news and where to go with it all once I did. And that's still kind of where I am this morning. How much can I say here? What is "safe" info to share and what might influence future events by saying it out loud?

Bear with me people; This whole "reunification" thing, it's a bit of a mind fuck.

But wait. Stop. I'm getting ahead of myself. Because at the heart of the matter, there are some truly Perfect Moments here that I don't think will fade. Let's see if I can't round them up:

This all went down Thursday evening, just as M and I were setting down the kick ass platter of bean burritos, home made tortillas and fixins and trying to figure out which old movie to watch. I see that there's a message on my phone and who its from. Do I deal with this now, or wait until I eat? M. says, what the hell, just check it out.

Sure enough, the message is brief. "Call me back. I have news."

And so I did. And so she did.

My birth mother was located. Contacted. Said thanks, but no thanks. And for some reason, I was unfazed by that. Did I expect it? Am I simply so well prepared for disappointing news these days? Did I anticipate that better news was awaiting at the end of the sentence? No idea, really. I just kind of shrugged my shoulders, shook my head no to M. and kept on prepping my burrito.

And then,

And then the person on the phone started to chuckle as she explained to me the second reaction she received that evening. The one from my birth father. The one that resulted in tears and shouts and a YES! Please. I would love to talk to her! When??

I got a name.
I got a number.
I have two brothers.

I had an hour-long conversation with someone that I don't know very well who told me that this was something straight out of the movies. He told me he is proud of me and he loves me.

And that, my friends, is my Perfect Moment.

Yes, yes! Still many, many questions and unknowns and I am trying very hard to keep a level head about it all. Stay Calm. Carry On. But I think it is A-ok to just bask in this (not very) little piece of it all right now. Don't you?

Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than about creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between. Want to see more perfect moments? Go check out Lori at Weebles Wobblog and others' perfect moments this Monday.

Perfect Moment Monday: (Assisted) Gratitude

Have you ever started reading a blog post and within the first sentence, the first words, you find yourself going, Yes! Yes! That is it! That is how I am feeling right now in this moment. And you wonder how this person that you have never meant is somehow existing in that same state that you thought (selfishly perhaps) only existed in your brain?

Bluebird's post was one of the first I read this weekend. And I was so overwhelmed with empathy that I had to stop and read it a few more times to stop projecting and to appreciate her words. And I did. And I do. Listen. She says:

I love our babies. I love them more every day. I didn’t realize that was possible, and it surprises and overwhelms me.

I used to just think of what we’d lost, but now I think of them. My heart feels like its going to burst, and my eyes automatically well up. I’ve been back at work for a month now, and I’ve cried more this week than the three previous weeks combined.

But sometimes now there’s also a slight smile that accompanies the tears.

And I remembered these words as I decided to go out with a friend Friday night. Decided to shed my hairshirt and slip on a sassy top and boots and head into a smoky bar to hear our friends play loud, loud music.

And I remembered Bluebird's words, and I also thought of Dana at Probable Improbabilities and this wonderful knowledge she shared a few weeks ago. When I read this the first time, I thought the timing couldn't have been more perfect for me. But I find, as days go on and I find myself sometimes slipping into sad for too long, or angry at myself for not giving the girls their proper alloted amount of time in my brain on any given day, I keep going back to this concept, this idea:

A lecturer ...raised a glass of water and asked 'How heavy is this glass of water?' Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g. The lecturer replied, 'The absolute weight doesn't matter. It depends on how long you try to hold it. If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm. If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance. In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.' He continued, 'And that's the way it is with stress management. If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won't be able to carry on.''

As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden.

I thought of Bluebird, and I thought of Dana and I thought of Isa and Jovi as I enjoyed the sun of an unusually warm February day Saturday running errands with my radio turned loud. I thought of all of these people as I picked M up early for work and we decided to go out again Saturday night - enjoying being with other people and people-watching and just reveling in the human experience that happens when the clouds clear and the cold fades and there is warm in the air, if only for a moment. And I smiled.

And I stayed smiling as I took a long walk along the river to the cherry grove where we are going to plant 2 flowering cherry trees for the girls once the spring really arrives. And it was impossible not to smile back at people who are smiling at you. Once again, it was so wonderful to be out among people, so many people walking and running and appreciating the pause in the cold and rain and snow.

And I got home just in time to read Mo's Sundays of Grace post and found myself once again going, Yes! Yes! That is it! That is how I am feeling right now in this moment. So thankful for the moments outside, feeling the sun and the air on a beautiful day, so grateful for friends and laughter, so appreciative that, at the end of the day, I am still cancer-free and I cannot ever stop being grateful for that. Not even when I place the infertility blame square on those shoulders. The fact remains: these shoulders are cancer-free.

So here I sit. My weekend is waning. Just a few more moments to go. But Monday morning, I will have a moment to reflect on what a wonderful, blessed and gratitude filled weekend it really was. Thank you, bluebird, Dana, and Mo for shaping this moment.

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Go visit Lori from Weebles Wobblog, founder of Perfect Moment Mondays to read where she and others found their moments this week.