This is Wanting
Second beta was good: my hCG doubled and my progesterone rose. My estrogen went down, of course, so I am now taking every hormone supplement known to man. I will go back in on Wednesday to make sure the estrogen and progesterone are where they need to be. Assuming all goes well, I am just waiting for my 6 week ultrasound.
I realized this weekend that I’ve all but stopped my spiritual practice. I’m still doing guided meditation, though I’m using a CD provided by the fertility clinic. A little sip of secular mindfulness with a focus on the glowing, healing light of my uterus. It feels kind of like cheating, but I’m betting Buddha would approve. I always picture him as non-judgmental with a great sense of humor. I always picture him as the 14th Dalai Lama.
Here’s the thing: it’s not like I’ve even tried my usual type of meditation (pretty much straight-up-emtpy-minded-Zen). I think part of me is worried about what will come crashing through the jungle of my mind. Which is funny, because the whole point of meditation is to let that monster lumber, to take a step back and give it compassion.
I can do that in small doses. On the way to the transfer, the blank canvas of hard, bright Colorado snow unrolling alongside the car windows, I was overwhelmed by fear. It washed over me in stomach lurching waves. Jesus fuck, I thought. I need that Valium NOW. But then it came to me like a flash of sun through breaking clouds: This is wanting.
That has been my mantra over the last two weeks, when the worry prickles my skin and I am sure that I will lose this baby. That I will lose everything.
This is wanting.
There is nothing inherently wrong with wanting. It is not good or bad, it just is. If I do not get what I want, I grieve. When I lose what I have, I grieve.
It is normal to fear pain. It is also important to remember that there is nothing I can do about this fear. I cannot stop this wanting. I also cannot will a child into being with this want. If I could do that, I wouldn’t be here, blogging about this aching journey.
So I will give myself credit today, for letting the monster stomp around this page. And maybe tomorrow I will sit with it silently. Or maybe I will put in my headphones and let a voice guide me through.