Month: November 2012

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A good moment

This week has been rough… my boss has a new hairbrain idea… reading between the lines, I am assuming the last 2 projects he wanted me to work on are now off the table. At least that is the only assumption I can make because he was asking a lot… these were the types of projects that are all consuming, pull all-nighters and also pull most of my hair out kind of projects.

These are the moment that I walk out and think why the hell am I here instead of being home trying to start a family.  (aka, back in NZ or Oregon doing adoption paperwork or trying to organize another DE cycle — here in Italy it actually is very well set up at my work to be able to steal my man away for a couple hours to ‘try’ in the classic approach to such matters)

Yesterday I gave myself permission just to stay home and recover. In my current state, work is impossible.  They say stress is a simple equation of the perception of the things you need to do being beyond your capabilities and resources. 

Yup.. I am well and truly there.  A store is closed, it feels like the end of the world.  I am hanging by threads some days with silly ideas in my head of.. “well may be buying printer ink will be my sole purpose today — DAMN can’t even do that here.”   Don’t ever delude yourselves, only in Hollywood is living in Italy is the panacea for all woes.. it’s a very tricky place that I have seen break some of the strongest women I know into puddles of tears and raging fists.

But by all means, book a 3 week vacation.  I have a list of fantastic travel tips.

So it was hard to take a day off when I already am so behind, but I had a good nap.. a good cry.. and then I was off to a new gig — English play lessons.

This awesome mom wants her son to learn to be comfortable around foreign languages and to learn a bit of English.  She is paying me to come over and play with her son and his best friend, the neighbor girl. This little girl has decided to marry the little boy when they are really old.  And he just thinks she is the best of the best.  And so we dumped out boxes of toy cars and plays. We made them go up and down the new generation’s fisher-price garage.  We ran around a table yelling stop and go in our own languages.  We drew and read a story.  It was hard to relax into the realization that ALL I NEED TO DO IS PLAY and throw in some English words. 

I am good at this.  I am really good at this.  I can translate and set up activities to encourage types of grammar and communication behaviors. I can make kids smile.  And every time I walk out feeling like, damn why couldn’t I have nailed it…. and then I look at the parents faces. They are in aw.  They say things like, my kid rarely warms up to people like that or wow, my daughter really likes you. 

Well they did set the boy up well… when I arrived he yelled “che grande questa cosa!” ~ “how great this idea is!”

So even if the ratio of things on my to do list that I shouldn’t be doing (learning to code in python) versus the things I feel born to do (helping kids get the most out of childhood) is completely out of whack now — it felt good knowing that at least there are some things I am good at.  Even if I seem strangely addicted to signing up for things that take me so so far from my talent set.

 

 

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Can the body remember even when you don’t?

I had an amazing week… two weeks ago. I posted on facebook that I think had found my rhythm here in Italy. I had Capoiera 3 nights a week, including the amazingly fun Friday night shindig one, and Italian lessons 2 nights a week.  My husband was doing all food shopping and cooking and lunch packing 3 days a week and I did the other 2 days plus weekend.  It was finally flowing.. feeling great.

And then I had this panic and anxiety wash over me.  My body felt like it was betraying me.  I just wanted to cry and hide and curl up.  And nothing seems to have triggered it.

Slowly I return to work 3 days a week, working as much as I can the 2 days I stay at home.

I start wearing my skin conductance sensors that are part of my research project. I am curious if perhaps there are clues there.

Hint — can you spot the hot flashes?

Yeah, I could too. But I hadn’t even noticed them consciously.  The only time they stopped was when I zoned out on TV, TV in English at the end of the day.

Today the cycle finally broke. After 2 long weeks, I was singing in the shower. Dancing as I blow dried my hair.  I was back. I am going out.

I went to make a note in my journal about today’s turn around point and I realize these two weeks mark the 4 year point since our failed cycle.  I realize my best friend had her second child 4 years exactly after the transfer.

I am not a huge believer in the body carrying around sad dates… my mind is normally too good at that. But this year I honestly didn’t think once about the specifics of that cycle. I’ve been thinking a lot about the infertility and wondering about the future, but the exact dates… nah.. nothing. Not even a quiet moment as I glance at my calendar.

From now on this month will only be about celebrating my best friend’s wonderful daughter. A daughter after 4 miscarriages. A daughter that arrived after several very scary moments where the doctors thought she was miscarrying… and then later when the doctors thought the baby was going to be born with a heart defect.  All was miraculously fine.  I can whole heatedly leave this chapter behind, and look to the future.

But I still won’t part with the last thing the clinical gave me and I suspect this bag will travel with me to a few more placed before I’m done with this adventure of life.