The Sting of Longing

The other day, another one of my coworkers asked me if I had any children.

Then later, as I was carrying a baby doll with a medical play preparation kit down the hall, someone remarked how natural I looked carrying the baby.

My heart broke a little bit...

with a combination of old, dull hurts and a seemingly semi-silly longing.

And I wonder if I am getting better at hiding it.

It has been suggested that I take it as a compliment and that people only mean well.  But it still doesn't take away the initial sting.  It takes a conscious effort to pause, breathe and mentally let it pass as it is replaced by a drifting, distant sadness where I try to feign normalcy.

Weighing in on Teaching

A blogger friend of mine has been debating if she should continue her pursuit of getting her teaching license.  She wrote a blog post about it and asked for feedback since she knows a bunch of teachers.  I wanted to share my response because people often ask me the question, "Should I be a teacher?" or "If you were to do it again, would you be a teacher?"

I think you know my answer based on my actions in my professional career.  I taught first grade in my own classroom for six years.  I absolutely loved being a first grade teacher, especially with the amount of growth and progress that kids make that year.  I loved, LOVED teaching kids how to read--to really read and and think--how to figure it out for themselves and get the meaning behind what they were reading.  I also substitute taught for several years and appreciated the different nuances of each age.  I will admit that I enjoyed the middle schoolers as much as the little ones.

However, K~ said it best.  I did not love being a teacher in today's society.  Teaching changed from the time that I entered the profession.  It is not what it was.  I know a lot of teachers say that, but I really think there is a huge difference in the profession in the last 10-15 years--more so than any other time before.  There is so much pressure with standardized testing, more is being asked of teachers with less compensation, and respect for educators continues to decline.  The system is broken and it does not feel like there is a real solution in sight because there is a focus on blame verses a view of continuous improvement that needs to be a community responsibility and effort.

I went back to school to study in another somewhat related field to give myself options, while also getting my certification in English as a Second Language.  As you know from my career search this summer, I was applying for jobs in Virginia for ESL and middle school math positions.  If I was going to go back to teaching, it was not going to be in a regular classroom.

As it turns out, the day that I was to submit my second requests for the Virginia positions to have the best chance at job interviews, was the day that I had my interview for my hospital job in Florida.  I am very happy with the path that I took and love my new job.  But I don't think I would appreciate it as much had I not been a teacher first.

There are times that I miss teaching.  I miss the kids.  I miss their wonder, surprise in themselves in their accomplishments, and the tender, funny and insightful comments without a filter.  I miss the conversations I had with my co-workers when we would spitball new ideas or chat about a new teaching strategy.  I loved building upon my craft.  But I was sad that I felt so restricted in being able to do what I could do best--building a community of learners who looked out for each other and learned to think for themselves--raising people up to keep chasing their dreams.

But, as I said, I love my new career because of my first.  Many of the teachers that I met that came into teaching as a second career were very happy in their work.  As new teachers, but not new professionals, they brought other strengths with them that helped them to shine.  Sometimes I wondered where they got their energy.  If you have a serious passion to do it, go for it.  You can always try it and if it does not quite fit, you can use your first degree to find a job that suits your needs.

Best of luck!

Dating Hesitation

Since moving to Orlando, I have been fortunate to have gone on a few dates.  It has been fun meeting new people while attracting the attention of some nice men.  One guy wasn't a good match for me.  He was a nice guy, just not quite the right fit.  Another guy was a lot of fun, but he lives a little ways away on the beach.  I get the impression he is still balancing some things in his life and the distance thing does not help that.  Or maybe I wasn't a match for him?

But, I am okay with accepting if the fit is just not there in the early phase of dating and then moving onto the next possibility.  I think I am improving in that area and not taking it as personal.  It is a good thing to feel comfortable in not feeling like I have to settle for an okay fit or good enough.  I value wanting there to be more of connection that is satisfying for both people.  I want a relationship that I can enjoy and that they enjoy with me.  I want to share a life with someone.  I want to have fun and look forward to seeing them.

Then with the most recent guy, it's still kind of early and I am trying to take things slowly.  I'm trying to return to this approach in general because I think it will help me to get to know the person better to head off getting clouded and confused.  Once I am emotionally attached it is easier for me to overlook or forgive behaviors, flaws or synchronicity that is off where it may not be the best match.

I have found myself with that familiar feeling of being tickled when I get to see him.  He is easy to talk to about similar interests and what is happening in life.  He is kind, open and insightful.  However, when we went on a few dates, I found my nerves bubbling up and getting the best of me.  I was thinking too much and not in the moment.  Panic was setting in and it was freaking me out.

In part, I realize that I feel a little more pressure with dating now than I did before when I lived in Pittsburgh.  When I was in Pittsburgh and I first started dating again, it was an adventure.  At first I didn't take it too seriously because I figured that if things didn't work out, that I would be leaving after graduation.  The plan was to get my degree, get a job and get the heck out of there.  Pittsburgh was supposed to be temporary.  It was kind of liberating and allowed me to be more in the moment.  Then I met and fell in love with RJ, which was not part of the plan.  I was coming to a place of happy acceptance that life is not always what you plan and some the best stuff can pop into your life when you least expect it.  My thoughts and hopes for my future shifted towards envisioning a life in Pittsburgh with RJ.  However, that relationship ended and I became open to leaving town, again.  This time it was with a heart with mixed emotions.  It was an opportunity to embrace a fresh start, but it meant distance from the people who became my very close friends and confidants.  Pittsburgh crept into my heart and I made it my home.  It was bitter sweet for me to leave.

Now dating feels more real, like the stakes have been raised and there is less room for error, for heartbreak.  It was so difficult for me to live in the same neighborhood as RJ after the relationship ended.  There were so many reminders of him.  There was a history with A~, but he left town.  Part of me is afraid that if things start and end with someone in Orlando, I wouldn't have a place to run.  I am afraid of getting hurt again.  And I think this is silly.  Lots of people start and end relationships where they live and they reestablish themselves.  And dating should be fun and it should be an adventure!

Finally, I have been worried that if things got more serious with the most recent guy and if it ended, I'm worried about possibly hurting him.  I want to keep things more light and breezy.  He has stated that he likes me, but knows and is understanding that I want to take things slowly.  But, I don't want to hurt him, and kind of selfishly I don't want to deal with the emotional fallout in how it may impact me.  Insert where I know I am being contradictory of myself because I have been angry and suspect that RJ did that very thing to me.  It's holding me back, I can feel it and it has been bothering me.

The recent guy is a grown man and makes his own choices.  I should not be trying to be responsible for him not getting hurt.  We each have a responsibility to be honest and respectful with each other.  But, each person is responsible for their own feelings and the risks they take.  There is some element of trust in there.

With these realizations, it has helped me to understand what I think is the root of my problem.  I am feeling a little better being able to identify my worries.  Hopefully, I can let go of them and get back to being more relaxed, present and authentic...to just be me!  It's got to be all in to give me, him and us a chance to see if it can begin and to see where it may lead.

A Collision of Selves

A little over a week ago, I was at a team huddle meeting at work.  My boss was telling a story about the talent show/variety show at a local medical college for it's first graduating class.  It is not so much of the talent show from elementary school, as most people who were performing were quite talented in their performing arts.  It serves as a celebration beyond the sciences before the students have Match Day to find out their assignments for residency.  My boss was briefly cluing people into the Match Day process, where the medical students go on interviews for residency and then the students and the hospital programs rank their preferences.  All of this information is submitted into a computer program for the entire country and it does its computing and matches most all of the students to a program.  Then on Match Day, each student's name is called and they are given an envelope to open and find out where they will go for residency.  Match Day is in late March, and most students have about six weeks to finish classes and pack up and move for the next step.  The talent show/variety show is an opportunity to take pause and celebrate before the mayhem begins and everyone goes their separate ways.

My boss was very impressed and touched by the talent show/variety show experience.  As he was describing it, I found myself swept away by an emotional wave that took me back to a place I did not anticipating revisiting.  My eyes started to get teary and I had to look away and not make eye contact with anyone in the room.  All with that brief summary of Match Day, it took me back to the time when I was with A~ and going through that process.  It felt like my past life was flashing in snippets before me, with the excitement, nervousness and wonder about what was going to be the next chapter in our lives together.  I remember when he came home after the first round of interviews.  He was bounding with a brightness of fantastic possibility that we did not realize was before us.  Our initial expectation was that he was going to probably rank Pittsburgh or Cleveland as top choices.  But when he came home and told me about some of the other programs and what they had to offer, I felt it was important to be open to those other choices.  So, I went with him for other interviews and second looks to check out other cities and take it all into consideration.  It was a beautiful time when A~ and I really worked as a team and he included me in his career choices because it was going to impact our life together.  We were giddy with the new found adventure before us, and we were scared to let our parents down if we ended up in another city.  We tried to buffer the news, but we were also cautious about sharing too much because we did not want them to try to convince us otherwise.  This had to be our decision.  It was a chance to see how we could make it as a couple, and it would push us to grow in ways we could not imagine.

And so I sat there with all of these warm, bubbling memories of a life past, a life now gone.  As quickly as these moments surfaced, along came the crashing flood of sadness and grief.  I thought back to my old self, feeling sad for her not knowing what was to come.  How brave and trusting she was in her relationship with A~ and feeling like they were on the edge of something incredible.  All of the sacrifice, the dreaming and the determination of really making it together with him...gone, all very gone.  All of that work and planning and hope...all just so far away gone. 

Was it all for nothing?  Is it now meaningless?  What was the point?

And there I sat, with my job... in a hospital... in Florida... in a place that my old self would have never imagined, especially not without him by my side.  For a moment, I felt outside of my own body and I just felt so sad.

How long had it been?

Ten years.

Ten years ago this holiday season, I was out on the road traveling with him squeezing in interviews and second look visits while popping in to see our family for the holidays.

My life feels like it could be nothing further than what my old self would have or could have imagined.  And now where am I?  How was it that I came to work at a hospital?  Is it weird or strange that my life has taken this path?

What will happen in the next ten years?  How much will change?  How much will I change?  Will I be happy?  Or will I be lost and waiting?

The emotional swells have been reverberating within me, as I try to find a place of balance, strength and acceptance of my current reality.  I know I am in a place of transition once again.  I just need to be patient.  It is okay to grieve what was lost, honor it and put it down again.

Broken Foot

Meh...

So, it seems this was a work in progress, maybe.  I enjoy running.  It is one of my favorite ways to release stress because I usually get to be physically active and be outside while doing it.  Unfortunately, I started having pain in my foot around the end of April, beginning of May.  I just wanted to make it through the Cleveland Half-Marathon. 

Cleveland is my hometown and to have the opportunity to run in this race meant a lot.  I remember sometime in middle school and hearing about the race and thinking what fun it would be to run in the city.  When I found out how long the race was, I wasn't sure if that could be something I could do.  In grade school, I was often the smallest and slowest runner in my class.  If I was playing tag at recess, it was only a matter of time before I was "it."  That usually meant that I was "it" for the remainder of the time because I couldn't catch anyone.  After a while, others began to catch onto this pattern and found that it really wasn't fun to have me hopelessly chasing them around the playground.  So then, mercilessly, someone would eventually volunteer to be "it" so that the kids could resume running at full speed and I could try to catch my breath...praying that someone would not say the chant (I cannot remember) that makes it so that everyone has to leave base.

Needless to say, it wasn't until I was an adult that I discovered the joys of running.  I may not be fast, but I do enjoy it.  So, I think I weakened my foot and tried to give it a rest over the summer.  When I finally decided to go see my doctor about it, I got back into my car and my phone rang with the job offer for Orlando.  I had the x-rays done in Pittsburgh and they did not show anything.  During my moving into my new apartment, I tripped on a step and my foot just did not feel the same.  I think that was when it was officially pushed over the edge.  I had x-rays done and now the break was clearly visible.

Since September I have had a series of steps in trying to heal my foot.  I started with an air cast and a knee scooter.  The lady who completed the paperwork for me to rent the scooter at the store said something about, "Now that you are disabled..."  That did not go over well.  Me, disabled?  No.  I decided to make the most of it by installing a bicycle bell on it so at least I could bring some kind of humor to the situation.  With the hospital being so new, I was quickly recognized as the girl on the scooter.  At first, people thought it was a toy and part of my job as a Child Life Specialist.  "Oh, you Child Life Specialists have all the fun toys!  You are so fun...oh, wait.  What's that on your foot?  Oh, your foot's broken.  Sorry!"  I will say the scooter was better than crutches.  I could pick up some real speed on the straight aways.  Some people teased that I would get a speeding ticket.  Others would say that I would miss the scooter because I would be so much slower.  Not so much.  As much time as I could save with going fast in a hallway here and there, I spent more time backing up and going back and forth to maneuver in and out of doorways and tight spaces.  A time or two I got a little jammed and stuck trying to get out of the elevator that I felt like Austin Powers in the golf cart in the first movie.

Over time, I realized I was in a safe bubble at work and people were just used to it.  Granted it made for a lot of extra conversation and inquires of how I was healing.  But, it was well intended and I preferred to think of it as people cheering for me, even if it was somewhat tiresome having the same conversations about ten times per day.  I usually had my canned answers, but tried to say it with a smile.  Then it started happening at the Publix.  The people who worked at the store began to recognize me and would strike up conversations with me about my progress and giving me well wishes.  It was slightly invasive and I really didn't want to be drawing extra attention.  Again, I took it as more people sending me good vibes for healing.  Then, I went to the mall and there were a lot of people who openly stared at me.  It made me feel uncomfortable.  I suddenly appreciated my safe bubbles of work and the Publix.

I was also irked when people would ask me if I had a handicapped parking pass.  What?  No.  I am not disabled...even if technically temporarily...I did not identify myself that way.  It ticked me off when people would say that I should take full advantage of my situation with the parking thing or milking it for some other favor out of pity.  NO!  That was one reason why when there was one guy that I dated for a bit that I appreciated that he did not say those kind of things.  He joked with me as was my way of coping, but he did not treat me any differently.  And he was good at listening when I could be honest about my frustrations with it.  (More on him in another post.)

After about a month, I started to transition off of the scooter and try walking more with the air cast.  Sometimes it was strange and somewhat comforting when some people didn't even realize that I didn't have the scooter anymore because it had just become no big deal.  The transition was giving me some hope.  But, I still felt awkward and it was starting to wear on me.  I found myself not wanting to go out in public for longer stretches where I might need the scooter.  I was just so done with it and my mood was dark.  I was getting into a funk.  Being restricted in not being able to really exercise was not helping and starting to take its emotional toll.

Last week I was down graded to a "walking shoe," which looks like a sandal version of the walking cast.  At least now I can swim laps in the pool, as long as I don't push off the wall.  I went for a swim after an unseasonable cool spell.  It felt great and really helped my mood.  I look forward to doing more of it, as long as the weather cooperates.  Fortunately, the pool for laps in my neighborhood is heated.

Supposedly, I'm moving in the right direction.  As long as I can handle the progression to regular shoes and walking, I *might* get to try running in February.  But, what totally stinks is that after all of this, the pain could come back to my foot and all of this could be for nothing.  That is what I fear the most.

And as much as I am trying to stay positive, it is wearing on me.  I miss wearing matching socks and shoes.  I miss wearing my cute shoes.  I haven't even been able to wear my Florida shoes yet!  With the holidays coming and the New Year, I feel like I can't really get excited about dressing up all cute.  I don't feeling like wearing a cute dress and then this aweful velcro sandal.  Maybe I'll head to the beach for New Years.  It's a good place for a flip flop.

A Text

RJ sent me a text last weekend.  He congratulated me with the Browns beating the Steelers.  Then, he said that he hoped I was doing well in Orlando.

I don't think his text is fair.  Sure, he may have been reaching out to let me know he was thinking about me.  Good for well wishes.  But, it hurts, even if confirming that I had some significance in his life.  Just let me be.

I didn't respond to the text.

Instead, I decided to write him a letter through email this weekend.  I took it as an opening for me to kind of respond to the note he had written in his card over the summer, the last of the processed thoughts that I had upon settling in Orlando and when the numbness wore off.  I thought about hand writing the note, but I wanted to include some links to a song...music speaks to him.  That, and I just didn't feel like giving him any more of myself than I needed...my handwriting, my touch on the page.

I'm not going to post the letter, as some of it is more personal than I care to share in my blog.  Also, some of it touches on reflections I have already said.  My letter was my last attempt to say whatever was left unsaid that I wished I had been braver and more aware to say in the moment when I left Pittsburgh.

However, the excerpt below touches on an important conversation I had with my aunt.  And I want to remember her words.

Shortly after moving to Orlando, I had an interesting conversation with one of my aunts. We were just talking about relationships in general and some of her words resonated with me. When couples seem to come to that place of having to make life choices, it seems sometimes it may be between the relationship or career. She said neither is right or wrong, they just are. They will take you on different paths of happiness and fulfillment. 

There were times I thought that maybe RJ ended the relationship with me because he was afraid or unable to be trusting in us for things to work for the long-term.  Or, it could be what he said in that there was something missing for him.  It doesn't matter because it is done and over.

I am moving forward and letting go more each day.  The holidays make it a bit tricky sometimes.  And his text does not help, pulling me back.  If he contacts me again, I may just have to say no more.  I think I am at a place where I am okay with that, which is the important part.

Turkey Day Thoughts

While it is still Thanksgiving weekend, I want to remember to quickly get down some thoughts while they are fresh in my mind.  So much has been happening in such a short amount of time that I am not getting to all of the posts that I have floating along in my head.

• I am thankful for my new job and I am loving it!  Even with not being a morning person, I find myself happy and looking forward to the day when I get up around 5:15 am.  My spirits are usually high as I jam along with my early commute watching the sun start to come up.
• I am thankful for family and friends who love me.  Emails, texts and phone calls carry with me as I often wonder how everyone is doing.  My thoughts and prayers are with you all for health, peace and happiness.
• I am thankful for the new friends that I am making in Orlando.  I am starting to make connections here and it is helping me to settle into my new home.  Just want to keep going with the exploring and adventures that come my way.
• I am thankful for this new chapter in my life.  Moving to Orlando has given me a fresh start and a new perspective.  I feel more open and free than I have in a long time.  I am hopeful for what is on the horizon as I try to remember to take it one day at a time and live in the present.
• I am thankful for healing space.  It takes a lot of strength to let go and I imagine myself more and more on the side of freedom.  My past will always be part of who I am, but there is more focus on the present in who I am now.
• I am thankful for my family in Florida and having the opportunity to spend my first Thanksgiving in Orlando with them.  Of course I missed my parents, brother, sister and cousins this year.  But this holiday was I think the first that my heart did not hurt for a longing of a life I so desire to have.  I needed that.  Even with other holidays being better since my divorce, there has always been that little stab of emotional pain that crept into my heart.  A friend of mine suggested that I spend a holiday doing something totally different.  Part of me wished I took her up on that offer a few years ago, but I think I got to experience some of that relief this holiday.  There are times I feel sad with lost dreams, not being able to provide my parents with grandchildren, and a longing to share a life with a love.  Thank you to my cousins for being so welcoming.  It was a lovely day.  And it was funny because my cousin's mother-in-law makes homemade stuffing very similar to my mom's.  So in some ways, my Cleveland Thanksgiving was not too far off from the Thanksgiving table in Florida.  My mom's stuffing is better.  But, this was a good close second.

Clues of Moving On

To help me validate the closure and end space between me and my most recent significant past relationship:

• Find myself sleeping in the middle of my bed.
• Feeling less angry and frustrated with it ending.  Moving towards acceptance.
• Having no interest in lurking on his fb page.
• Fewer instances of seeing things that remind me of him.  (Moving certainly helped.  But surprisingly, initially there was more around than I thought that reminded me of him.)
• Wanting to purge and clean out my closet.  I kind of started that before the move, but still find myself doing that a bit more.  It's kind of like shedding an old skin or old self.
• Reflecting on what I learned from the relationship.  Appreciating what was good about it and what I can apply going forward.
• Find myself shopping and eyeing up cute dresses and tops with thoughts of, "That would be cute for a date."  I'm kind of in a reinventing phase.
• Going on dates.  :)
• Adding more music to my current collection.  Always looking for good music, but it tends to increase when I'm looking for some good pick me ups to get pumped about the next adventure.
• Looking to do something new with my hair.  I trimmed my bangs a little different and I have been trying to grow it out a little more.  I'm thinking the new bangs go better with the length that I would like to grow it.
• Noticing men and picking up more on the vibe when there might be a little something there worth investigating.
• Going on a date and not comparing him to what I had with RJ.
• Feeling more free and excited to explore my new home and people around me.
• Being fully in the moment with a man and noticing and enjoying what is special about him.
• Seeking connection, engagement and satisfaction in my work, play and daily activities.
• Allowing myself to dream, considering new possibilities and itching to travel.
• Generally feeling happier and at peace within myself.

Yay, me!  Stay positive, build confidence and feel the strength within myself.  Let my true self shine and see what comes my way.

Some Books Are Better on the Shelf

So, my sister sent me this link to Darwin Deez's Bad Day a bit ago when I was in the throws in feeling angry about my most recent relationship ending.  While I am sometimes uncomfortable with being angry with a person who has left me in a relationship, it still surprises me how much others can feel angry for me.  It kind of comes as a relief in being angry myself.  It's normal.  It's okay.

So the song starts with, "I hope that the last page of your 800-page novel is missing."

No, sometimes actually finishing a book can be downright disappointing, too.

The book that had been on my shelf for several years that I bought as a vacation beach read is called Holy Cow by Sarah Macdonald.  It is an autobiography of sorts where a woman in her thirties from Australia revisits India for a gamble on love and takes a spiritual journey.  This helps her to make sense of the world, to figure out what is truly important and to learn more about herself.

It caught my eye while walking around the book store.  Funny thing is that I started reading it on a beach vacation the summer before A~ and I were just starting to try to conceive a baby.  The first chapter or so was good, but I was distracted with wanting to read Harry Potter, too.  Harry Potter won.

The vacation ended and the book returned to my shelf.  There it sat, replaced with reading material about infertility, mending relationships and soon grad school required reading.  I wanted to read it.  But after the fallout of my divorce, I hesitated because it reminded me of the last happy vacation I had with him.

Next I began my relationship with RJ, and I didn't feel like tainting my happy thoughts with sad thoughts of reminders of my past relationship.  I was trying to move forward.  Plus, I was still busy with grad school readings.

Then when RJ ended the relationship and grad school was done, I felt that I had no more excuses.  I wanted to read the book to be done with it.  Maybe it would surprise me or maybe I could justify getting rid of it because giving away a book I purchased and hadn't read seemed like such a waste.  It became my book to read on the bus going to and from my summer internship job.  Perfect!

As I read the book, it was interesting to read how the main character had to learn how to let go of so much.  She faced herself and her broken preconceived notions about life.  She embraced life as it was and found the good in people.  She changed her perception.  The people and places had not changed, but she changed the lens that she viewed them.  She found a certain peace, acceptance and happiness.  It also touched on the importance of balance in a relationship and not to lose oneself--having personal grounding and independence while flexibly creating a life together with someone else.

Sounds good right?

(Spoiler Alert)

As I was reading the second to the last paragraph of the book, the author tidies up by writing about what she has learned from each religious group she meaningfully encountered in India.  She reflects on what she learned before returning home.  Good, strong woman stuff.

Then, the very last paragraph washes it all away.

Basically, the author goes onto say that all of that stuff really doesn't matter because she is with child that she and her husband conceived before leaving India (mean while most of the story is spent with the couple spending nearly all of their time apart because of his job assignment).  The baby is special because it will remind her of the sacrifices and growth during her two years of life in India, but that having a baby is where the real meaning in life can be found. 

So, diluted enlightenment and I'm better than you because I can get knocked up by my husband.

I closed the book with disappointment.  Really?  The last paragraph did not seem relevant to the story.  They were never trying to have a kid.  What happened to the personal grounding and finding happiness and contentment within yourself?  What happened to realizing that a relationship is fragile and when one person's career dominates the relationship, it can hurt it when it is at the expense of that relationship?  What happened to two people who realize that their life together is more important than if they have career success without that special person to share it?  Fine that the baby will remind you of your time in India and that the conception was special.  But, to imply that the spiritual journey didn't really matter because being a mother supersedes it?  Really?

Then, I think back to all of the times that I started reading the book or picked it up and thought about reading it.  It would have been far worse timing.  It may have been chucked into the ocean.

This is not helping me to be okay with being in the temporary* space of not having a baby at the moment.

(*Working on being happy and while being open to find a man first, while holding onto hope for possibility.)

Feel free to make book recommendations.  I could use them.  I live by a pool.

The Space Between 35 and 42

Lately...I've been thinking about what it means to be turning 35 and searching for some kind of grounding in where I am in life, or rather trying to make a space to be comfortable in accepting and celebrating this new chapter in my life. 

I find it difficult to find the balance of being happy with being a single, childless woman with a challenging, fulfilling career path and not becoming consumed with wanting to be a mother that I lose sight of the wonderful I have in my life in the present.  I do not want to have those thoughts of hoped motherhood looming in my mind that I miss out on capturing and living in the moment now.

To lay this out now--I want to be in a committed, loving relationship, which I see as being married, to a man whom I want to spend the rest of my life.  And a child is a blessing and an experience that I want and hope to share with someone together.  A baby is not a requirement for happiness or satisfaction in that hoped life.  I am looking for someone who is open to the possibility and desire to have children.  I feel confident that I will find that man--someday sooner rather than later, I hope.  Part of my fear is that I will not find him before the window closes...before my physical body says no more, even if my heart still says yes.

What's with 42?  Well, that seems to be the number that keeps popping up in my mind of when I think the window may close for me.  It used to be 38, but I've expanded it.  It could be longer and could change, I don't know.  I would hope that my kid would graduate high school before I reached retirement age.  That could push it to 46.  But, 46 seems so old to be pregnant for the first time.  Forty-two seems to hedge on the possibility that there could still be some good eggs in there and that I could physically handle it, maybe.  Forty-two seems more friendly to defy the odds in some weird way.  I don't know.  Totally know it is not a rational thought process, but there it is--the current barometer on my inner timeline.

And please do not throw out the instant band-aid, "You can always adopt!"  I started down that road once before and I know it is not that simple.  I've already had a touch of that feeling like a pound puppy and feeling judged by others to decide if I'm good enough to be a mother.  I don't even want to get into the manipulation of some that make you feel guilty that you question your level of comfort in how much you are willing to take on in caring for a child that may be atypical in health or development, among other factors.  It is not just a decision about you, there is also a great deal of thought of how it may impact the child.  It is not an easy process and it becomes more complicated the older that you get because young parents are so desired.  It is not to say that it doesn't happen; it thankfully and rightfully does.  I may be open to adoption in the future, but there are so many factors that go into that decision process.  Again, it needs to be inclusive of what is best for me and my hoped partner.

So yes, I do feel there is plenty of time to meet and connect with the man who I dream of sharing a life.  There is a larger and more generous timeline for that to happen.  What is not so forgiving is the time that my body has left to have a baby of my own--my own flesh and blood--my eyes, my hair or my freckles--my love of books, my playful spirit or my feeling at home with nature, art and football.  And all of those kinds of things found in my partner, but mushed in combination with me into one little being.

Part of me feels that if I become too comfortable and caught up in this single life that I may accidentally push away the chance of being a mother.  It's like if I "forget" about it, it may not happen.  Will the universe forget that dream deep within me?  If by living in the moment and not constantly hoping for a child, will the higher power think that having a child is no longer important to me?

Part of me worries that if I keep worrying about it not happening, that it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy and will not happen.  I am afraid of the disappointment that may not come.  I want to be hopeful and believe.  But, what if I am setting myself up for more heartache if it doesn't happen?

I feel caught between quietly hoping, but not hoping too much or not enough, and keeping the fears at bay of it not happening, or worse hoping and believing and it not happening and then being crushed.  I know this is the worst constructed sentence ever.  But, I don't know how else to write all of what I am feeling at the same time.  My thoughts and feelings on motherhood for myself all are a jumbled blob, just like that sentence.  My chest feels tight and the tears silently roll down my cheeks wrapping my brain around all of my thoughts and feelings.

And somehow I have to release the fears, find the courage to believe and get back to living my life as it is in the present--not just getting by, but living a full, happy and content life now.  I know that responsibility resides in me; it is just remembering to do it.  Perhaps focusing on being thankful for what I do have will help me to seize the most that life has to offer me.

As a good friend said to me a few years ago...when one door closes, another one opens.  Maybe all of what I have been through is to make room for something more than I could ever imagine.  After A~, I felt I found that with RJ, but it did not last.  So, I hold onto hope that there is something even better and that my time will not run out.