IVF and the Newlywed: Lost and Found

Lost and Found

Sometimes things are too fresh, too green. You can’t talk about them until they settle. That’s how I was feeling this weekend. I just couldn’t bring myself to put my insides to “words”. Perhaps if I were to “paint it out” things would have gushed forth like butterflies, like blood. 

I spent the weekend vacillating between turbulence and limbo. That ether-state of decision-making. A band-aid to my soul.

Friday night. Starless sky. Lying in bed with my big Boston boy. “I’m so sad, “I said, “I thought I was over this, but I’m not.” He held me and said. “We’ll never get over this, sweetheart. We’ll get BEYOND IT, but not over it.”

I think of this Loss. My third Loss. I think of all that life-potential that could not hold on. I blame myself. The scars in my womb from fibroid surgery. My age. My weight. When does the blame stop? When can you look at yourself again and feel whole and beautiful?

I am usually a happy person. A conduit of good energy. I have friends I would do anything for. Friends who I won’t talk to right now because it’s just too hard.

Sunday morning. I woke my sleeping Bear and said, “Let’s think about adoption.” We can still keep trying with IVF, but we do want more than one child, so why not explore the options. Groggily, he agreed. We hugged and kissed and laughed with the languid ease of weekend morning love.

Sunday afternoon. I obsessed over cupcakes. I just found a lovely new book exclusively on CUPCAKES. The cover features a bit of vanilla heaven with a sugared violet on top. I’m not sure where this new obsession with cooking has come from but cupcakes are my secret passion. They remind me of childhood birthdays and modern weddings, and Martha Stewart perfection. Maybe if I start to practice now, by the time I am (fingers crossed) a mom, I can become the best cupcake maker on my block. 

So I mixed my eggs and milk, and frosted with the back of a spoon, and in the end I had 24 lumps of cake. Really uninspiring looking. But hey, it was my first attempt! And even through they were ugly they tasted DELICIOUS!


A cupcake story:

Spring 2008. My Boy and I went down to visit friends in New York City. I was getting out of the shower when he surprised me with my engagement ring “I wanted to do this on the top of the empire state building,” he said, “but we ran out of time.” My engagement ring is my grandmother’s. It’s the ring I have always wanted to wear. My grandparents had a very happy marriage and although I never met them, I know my grandmother is looking down on us and sending lots of Wisdom and Love our way.

So this was a splendid weekend with my sweetheart, celebrating his birthday and his first trip to the Big Apple. We walked through central park and met my best friend for drinks by the pond as swans glistened past.

That night I lost my wallet at a dive bar in Hell’s Kitchen. Lost????? Not sure, but it was GONE. We had $14 left and two Amtrak tickets after we checked out of the hotel. We used most of our remaining cash to buy subway tokens to visit  police stations and file reports. Uptown than downtown, and scurrying back again! We didn’t have enough for lunch or dinner, but walking down from Port Authority was passed the Cupcake Café. Although the location has changed, the Cupcake Café in NYC brings back the warmest memories for me. My time in grad school in the Big City. Working in Manhattan for some wonderful designers. Sitting with friends for gazpacho and carrot cupcakes and musing over theatre, art and life.

We had a few bucks left, enough for a pair of cupcakes and two coffees. A welcome respite from the chaos of the city street. Sitting across from my Boy, gobbling a bit of lusciousness before we went back home. Basking in our newly engaged love. It was the perfect frosted dream to a weekend I will never forget.

These are the things I need to hold on to right now. Love, sweetness, the treasures in my life. No matter how complicated things get in our lives, it only takes a few simple things to bring us back to the heart of the matter. Back to the HEART.





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