Archive for the ‘Deep Thoughts’ Category

What’s on Your Hat?

A man lost his way while hiking in Joshua Tree National Park and was rescued six days later. He kept himself alive by staying still and writing his last wishes on his hat. He wrote love notes to his family and children, in the event that he perished.

What would be scribed on your hat if you wanted to leave behind something for your loved ones? What would you wish for ? How would you ask your friends and family to celebrate the life that you have lived?


I love this kid. She reminds me of the best in us….

The Ethics of a Legacy

I recently visited Dr. Feelgood for my 26th week OB appointment. In between questions about swelling feet and low carb diets, she started to speak to me about this book she is reading. It seemed rather fascinating so I did a little research. I just wanted to pass the information along as it seems like a deeply moving novel.

As I read more about this book of non-fiction, I think of the ethics of science vs. divinity. What is our truth and obligation toward one another? Toward the respect for life and a higher power? Toward racial and social equality?  If Mrs. Lacks (the subject of the book) were alive today, would she have been treated differently ? I certainly hope so.

I think about the subject of biomedical research and ethics, I reflect upon our own journey through IVF and all the questions of stem cell research that our doctors presented to us. Have we, as a diverse community of people, moved forward in the way we regard and preserve the value of life? I suppose that is for each of us to decide.

The book touches on so many issues. I would like to learn more about this woman and the time she lived in. It certainly makes me think of my humanity, and take a deeper look at things. 

Please let me know your thoughts…..


By Rebecca Skloot

Illustrated. 369 pp. Crown Publishers. $26

For a review of this book, please click here. BOOKS OF THE TIMES

Deep Thoughts : )

Hey there! I have no original ideas of my own today, so I leave you with a few quotes from Jack Handey.

One thing kids like is to be tricked.  For instance, I was going
to take my nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old
burned-out warehouse. "Oh no," I said, "Disneyland burned down."

He cried and cried, but I think that deep down he thought it was a
pretty good joke.  I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but
decided to go home instead.
The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the 
Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo,
flying across in front of a beautiful sunset?  And he's carrying a
beautiful rose in his beak, and also he's carrying a very beautiful
painting with his feet.  And also, you're drunk.
I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not our
children's children, because I don't think children should be having 
If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell
him is, "God is crying."  And if he asks why God is crying, another 
cute thing to tell him is, "Probably because of something you did."
If you ever catch on fire, try to avoid seeing yourself in the
mirror, because I bet that's what REALLY throws you into a panic.
I hope if dogs ever take over the world and they choose a king, they
don't just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with
some good ideas.
Instead of having "answers" on a math test, they should just call
them "impressions," and if you got a different "impression," so what,
can't we all be brothers?
I wish I would have a real tragic love affair and get so bummed out
that I'd just quit my job and become a bum for a few years, because
I was thinking about doing that anyway.
If you go flying back through time and you see somebody else flying
forward into the future, it's probably best to avoid eye contact.
It's easy to sit there and say you'd like to have more money.  And I
guess that's what I like about it.  It's easy.  Just sitting there,
rocking back and forth, wanting that money.
If you ever reach total enlightenment while you're drinking a beer,
I bet it makes beer shoot out your nose.
To me, clowns aren't funny.  In fact, they're kinda scary.  I've
wondered where this started and I think it goes back to the time I
went to the circus and a clown killed my dad.
As the light changed from red to green to yellow and back to red
again, I sat there thinking about life.  Was it nothing more than a
bunch of honking and yelling?  Sometimes it seemed that way.
I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate.
And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it.
I hope some animal never bores a hole in my head and lays its eggs in
my brain, because later you might think you're having a good idea but
it's just eggs hatching.
If I ever get real rich, I hope I'm not real mean to poor people, like
I am now.
Here's a good thing to do if you go to a party and you don't know
anybody:  First take out the garbage.  Then go around and collect any
extra garbage  that people might have, like a crumpled napkin, and
take that out too.  Pretty soon people will want to meet the busy
garbage guy.
Sometimes I think you have to march right in and demand your rights,
even if you don't know what your rights are, or who the person is 
you're talking to. Then on the way out, slam the door.
One thing vampire children have to be taught early on is, don't run
with a wooden stake.
If you go to a costume party at your boss's house, wouldn't you think
a good costume would be to dress up like the boss's wife?  Trust me,
it's not.
Most of the time it was probably real bad being stuck down in a
dungeon. But some days, when there was a bad storm outside, you'd look
out your little window and think, "Boy, I'm glad I'm not out in that."

Send a hug

Please read my friend Egghunt’s posting on her blog and leave a comment.



What is “REAL”?- ICLW

When my baby niece was born, my sister would sit with her in her nursing chair and “count her blessings” with her before bedtime. Being only a few months old, she couldn’t do much more than gurgle, but I was so taken by their bond and their little rituals. When it was time to say goodnight, my sister would play George Winston’s piano accompaniment to “The Velveteen Rabbit,” narrated by Meryl Streep. My sister and I love this story and it has always meant a great deal to us. It was a treasure to share it with the next generation of little girls in our family.

I think it will always touch me deeply, now on the cusp of my own pregnancy, after a long hard journey to get here, it becomes even more poignant.

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day… “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse.  “It’s a thing that happens to you.  When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.  “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse.  “You become.  It takes a long time… Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby.  But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.

“I suppose you are real?” said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.

“The Boy’s Uncle made me Real,” he said. “That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.”

The Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a long time before this magic called Real happened to him. He longed to become Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was rather sad. He wished that he could become it without these uncomfortable things happening to him…”


I don’t think REAL is about becoming pregnant, or being loved by a child. For each of us it is very different. REAL for me was acknowledging my strength and my flaws, my uniqueness and my hope to touch others. To love myself even with shabby edges and pain and imperfection.

To come out of this journey and feel WHOLE and find joy again on the inside is truly inexpressible. It has been a long road to get to this place inside my head. Once you have been diagnosed with infertility, whether by age or physiology you are somehow changed. But if you can find that spark to love and honor yourself, even through the hurt and pain, you are truly REAL.

Much love to you…..

Here is the opening to the Velveteen Rabbit. It’s quite beautiful. Enjoy!


A Secret…

Trying to sit in the moment today. I awoke to the most beautiful snowfall. Well, from the inside of my cozy condo its beautiful. If I was a traffic cop or a manhole worker I might not think so. I guess it’s all about perspective.

The Bear has asked me to stop reading so many blogs right now. I think he has a point, although I really don’t believe in censorship. It’s just that I can be in the most positive and centered place, and then I start reading. I think I wear my soul on the outside because I really FEEL everything and my heart is going out to many ladies right now. I can’t begin to expres how much I feel when I hear someone is hurting.

I wish I could just stay in my grounded place, exhaling deeply, and not wear so much of this on my heart. But Infertility is so hard, and once you experience it you feel somehow bonded with others on the journey with you. Even if you haven’t met them (yet).

I guess that’s why we created RubyFeather. As a way of reaching out.

Someone once asked me why I chose to call this blog Romancing the Stone. It’s not because of the film. I feel that infertility is this dance that you seem to do with yourself. You may have a partner in it (or not) or family and friends for support (or not) but inevitably you feel incredibly ALONE. Sometimes you look at your body as if you are an outsider, examining and judging every nuance, every curve and blunder. But if you can learn NOT to judge it, to somehow love it’s flaws and it’s honest womanliness would you be happier? For a time, after a major fibroid surgery, I was mad at my body. I thought that life would never take root inside it. Now I am trying every day to love it a little more. Whether a child comes into our lives through our bodies and our cells, or through adoption, I know the Bear and I will have a family. I used to think of my uterus as a STONE. A non-living hard stone. Now I try to think of it as a FLOWER. No matter what springs forth from it.

So that’s me today. I am hoping for a day of rest where I can eat matzoh ball soup and wear my pj’s all day and snuggle up with my big Bear. The fireplace is to my left, David Brubeck is playing on the Ipod, and the snow is draping the windows of nearby Victorians outside my living room.

Sit in grace, I hear my little voice saying. Ground yourself. Exhale…..

Wishing you peace and a warm refuge.