I really wanted to see the aliens have sex in Avatar. It’s like so many other PG or R rated movies… right when the moment really gets hot, they pan.
I’m not as sad as with previous miscarriages. I've steeled myself a bit. The bereft animal sobs that made it hard to breathe came only the first night, in the car, on the phone with M. So I'm being gentle with myself. Watching minutes of movies when I have time, and dining out with my man. Nothing better than a white tablecloth and a corner table and a nice bottle of red, combined with some hand-holding and eye contact and connection with him to make me feel better.
Been dealing with everyday chores seemingly endlessly. Broken dishwashers, refinance paperwork, my mom's place. The list feels thin, and transparent. Below it, a giant undercurrent runs through my life, through each waking moment; a current that may move our lives in a new direction, or not. It's still a little dark and I can't quite see yet, but it will become clear.
He said it too.
It doesn’t feel exciting to try anymore. It feels expensive and not likely to succeed. But he is excited about adoption. I'm not sure; my emotions are a swirl of many feelings.
I’ll tell you this: I keep seeing the vision I had in my mind nine years ago when I asked myself if I wanted to have kids, after years, sadly, of vacillating. I expected my usual long list to come out, with pros and cons and logic and reasons and tangibles. But instead, when I closed my eyes, I saw an arm. A small child arm, nothing more, reaching out, but slipping away.
That’s when I decided YES, I wanted to try.
And so it is.