The funeral was good, y’all. I love them. For a while, I tried to couch that love in more acceptable phrases like “it was as good as such things can be” and “it was lovely” and “it’s an important right of passage” but more recently, I just admit I love them. A little group-emotion-solidarity? Yes. Some ritual? Yes. Talking about the best parts of a person? Yes.
From an email to Bionic:
****’s dad is a preacher – it was his wife who died – and when everyone stands and greets each other with “peace be with you” he came over to the side of the church where a bunch of us were standing and only doing a little greeting and peace-ing and said, hanky (yes, hanky – I’d brought one of my grandma’s to give to **** and good thing I did because she gave it to her dad in the middle of the service) in hand, “for those of you are are not as familiar with our traditions, peace be with all of you” which was the most moving part of the whole deal. ****’s family really is delightful and I am so glad I went. Totally worth the 4 hour drive. Also, rural Virginia. Be still my heart.
It’s possible that one could just read my emails to Bionic (Did you really need a link again? I didn’t think so.) and Uberbutch and skip this blog entirely.
Friday I went to (another) birthday party that involved a viewing of the Topp Twins documentary and a spin in a sauna. I was exhausted from all the driving over the past couple days, and because I am a wimp, but it was an awfully nice birthday party. There was cake:
Wow, that’s not such a good picture. Sorry. Now, I’ma be honest here, since it’s my blog and all, and tell you I don’t love the sentiment on the cake. However, the birthday recipient loved it as did the host who commissioned it and the cake itself was delicious, so I’ll call it a win. Plus, all the other pictures have people in them so this is what you get.
Then Saturday (y’all, this is just like a diary!) I went to a baby shower. Yes. For my dear friend M who worked long and hard to get this baby. I had sorted through a box of baby things that a friend gave me years ago (cho-girl hid it for me in her house for a long time and then it lived in the shed and then it was just time for it to go) and I gave the bulk of it to some other friends (who might have a girl), but I saved some plain and lovely shirts and a little pair of pants for M (who knows she is having a boy). And gave her two tiny hats that were the only baby things I’d ever bought for myself because I knew she’d treasure them and also just use them. There is only so much standing on sentiment that one can do on some hats. Now, I was… unsettled? bothered?… by a number of things at this shower, but they were things that don’t relate to infertility and so from that point of view the shower was great. I am really glad I went, just to make this retelling of my friend’s shower all about me.
Last night I did nothing. It was heaven. There’d been too much time away from home and my internal organs were starting to shrivel up. I ate left overs and watched trashy tv and polished my shoes and my roommate’s shoes with my grandpa’s shoe shine kit. There was a fire. In the stove. Unrelated to my grandpa’s shoe shine kit.
This afternoon, I’m going to Red Row Farm. Five years ago, when they still lived in Starrhill, W yelled over the fence early in the morning that L’s water had broken and so we spent that drizzly Saturday walking around Starrhill and 10th & Page trying to get labor started. A little less than 24 hours later, A arrived and I fed his mama ice chips that I think she still claims are the best thing ever, and watched as they encouraged A to nurse and became a family. I left them at the hospital and came back to Starrhill and got the nicest hug from L’s mama who had just arrived from NJ. It was a pretty great day.
Here I am. Just back from …. birth class. No, no. I’m not knocked up. I’m taking it for my doula certification. You’ll remember, you old timers, you, that I took a weekend long doula training class. And it was great. And birth work is great, what I can do of it – teaching sort of gets in the way of being on call for births. Having taken the training, but not completed the certification process, I can attend births, but I cannot claim to be a “certified” doula. To be certified, I have to write up six births I’ve attended and take a birth education class, in addition to other things I’ve already done. Well, a friend is offering a free birth education class, so I figured I’d take it and be all the closer to certified.
And it’s great. Yep. Great. Full of interesting information and well balanced with regards to intervention-heavy vs. intervention-free birth.
And it’s hard to sit through – writing a birth plan or visualizing my cervix opening like a flower seems rather akin to prodding an almost healed puncture wound with a chopstick.
And it’s straight. Yes, friends, you’d think I’d know at this point that coupled, straight people have babies and most of them have no real, true idea that I exist. Nobody’s mean, or hateful, or anything like that. It’s simply as if they have *no idea* single mothers, or lesbians, or any other differently familed people might be giving birth, too.
(just so we know this is not a blog only about my peeps)
In no particular order:
- there are one and one half days of school left. Thank fucking god. I don’t blog about work, but this year has sucked.
- the peeps spend most days outside, which is great, because they are messy as shit. For real. But I heart them.
- no camp for me this summer (teaching, that is). I have a fab new babysitting charge – let’s call her….. ah, something. I’ll come up with something.
- ttc shit is totally overwhelming and hence paralyzing. What to do next? Can’t think about it, can’t decide, can’t deal. Woo!
- recent fab visit from my white grandma involving tea at my house – twice! Woo for real!
- general blah > general not blah. This bites.
- j says I’m not blogging enough. Who am I to argue with her?
- the kitten, who were once so tiny, are now 1 and very big. I also heart them. The boy one likes to lay around “guarding” the peeps when they are outside.
- The New Girl is being…. well, herself. We’ll see how all that goes, as I can’t really be much of anything but myself, and those mesh less than well recently (see #6 above).
- house and yard are, as per usual, more work than I want to deal with. Lame. Dirty and untidy do nothing to make me feel good, and yet they are so hard to send packing.
- I have a new doula client, which causes me to remember that I really, really like birth work.
- LB is very good at keeping up with folks, for which I am grateful.
- my csa started and the neighbors are going to roast a whole pig in my driveway.
What’s new with you?
*I’ve been putting up food like, um, like….something. Frozen blueberries, cherries, broccoli, and kale all stacked up in the freezer. The preserved lemons and sauerkraut turned out well and are done fermenting and pickling and are now at home in the fridge. My neighbors are giving me their box of local produce the week after next when they go to the beach, so I’m all set to blanch and freeze away.
*July is a good time for iced tea and I came across this, while looking for stuff about kombucha (so good, but wow, it seems like a lot of trouble to make). So there’s rice cooling on a plate right now. I need to go finish it up.
*there are new babies – here and here. The former being here in Virginia. I got called to be at the birth, because they couldn’t find their friend who was supposed to be there. Lucky for me! And lucky for the friend, she skidded in about 4 minutes before the baby came. Additionally, yay! Cakie has a brother!
* LB and I had the most amazing dinner yesterday, post The Birth (yes, it only took the middle portion of the day, this birth – noon to 12:53 to be exact – there was time to do all sorts of other things). We had big-eye tuna bits sauteed in olive oil with salt and pepper and yellow squash with rainbow chard and garlic scapes. You’ll just have to believe me that it was honestly one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten. Honest.
*then we had gimlets on the back deck with IB because that’s how we roll around here.
Ok, four of those five items were about things you can put in your mouth, so there’s my NaBloPoJuly for today. Pictures of the sauerkraut and company coming, I swear.
Forgive me. It has been a million years since my last blog post.
But I have excuses! I had surgery! (I tried to use this excuse at work to get out of a parent meeting last week. No dice.) Yes, the sugery is over and done and old Polly is gone – peace, Polly. And really? No big deal. So not an excuse for not blogging.
The real excuse for not blogging is that I have been at a weekend long Labor Assistant Training. It was great, but I had no time to blog. I haven’t even read blogs or visited the IVP since Friday. Ack! But have I mentioned it was great? It was. Great for its own sake (very informative, not overly touchy-feely – which I feared – well run, inspiring) and also great because it reminded me that all this fertility shit isn’t just about getting pregnant, it’s also about giving birth and having that experience is part of why I am going on with all this crap. Anyway, this training is very, very good and if you get a chance to take it you should jump on it.
I promise a surgery post shortly. Promise.
Also? CD 1, y’all. I’ve got a meeting with the RE Tuesday. Let’s get this party started.