Tuesday, 17 January 2017

I need some suggestions

January is more than half done, hallejulah. I don't want to wish away a day of my life but January isn't my favourite month. It feels like everybody is making New Year's resolutions in December and my only thought is: please can I just get through January.


Anyway. We are at a turning point/checkmate/stalemate (I can't metaphor right now) with regards to trying to conceive #2. I'm not feeling very optimistic at this point, not going to lie. But optimistic or not, we still have to decide to do something, or nothing, which is still a decision.


We have completed our 4 cycles of Clomid, 100mcg. No pregnancy achieved. According to progesterone levels, I ovulated the first three cycles (levels were 11.3, 18.9 and 22.1 respectively). All 3 ovulatory cycles had a relatively short luteal phase, according to the charts I kept (about 9 or 10 days). Other than that though I was encouraged to see my charts looking mostly the way they are supposed to for a fertile person. My temperature was low prior to ovulation, then rose, with the highest point about 7 days after ovulation. From there it would plummet. I had one or at most two positive OPK's in each cycle (I stopped testing after BBT rise).


I did not ovulate on the fourth cycle. I didn't ask the number for this one. My BBT chart is basically flat and low, no temperature rise. I had positive OPKs starting day 9. They were positive for about eight days, went negative for three, went positive again. I have never had this happen before. I finally gave up because it was too frustrating. I had various kinds of cervical mucus throughout, some of which looked fertile but as previously noted there was no evidence of ovulation at any point. This cycle lasted for 34 days and finally ended with what looks like a pretty normal period. I was glad that I at least did not need to use the Prometrium to induce a period which wasn't something I wasn't anxious to do. I am now unmedicated for the first time since October. What I notice so far is that my BBT (follicular phase) is lower by 3-4 tenths of a degree than it was when I was taking the Clomid. (I didn't chart prior to taking Clomid so no idea what it was before).


We have the follow up appointment with Dr. Cotter this Thursday. I'm trying to think of what I should ask her / talk about. I don't know if we will be offered any treatment options after Clomid. Maybe she will interpret my 3 ovulatory cycles positively and be willing to try something else, maybe not. I'm also so busy this month I haven't had much time to research or think about things, and it's still hard to think past the disappointment.


From the little I've had the time to read, here are some possibilities I found for when Clomid doesn't work:
  • Keep trying Clomid at same or higher dose (we were given four cycles, but surveying the internet I see that some people have had it prescribed for up to a year ...!!!... )
  • Clomid with a trigger shot
  • Go off Clomid, go unmedicated or take birth control pills for a couple of cycles, try again with Clomid
  • Femara
  • "Injectibles" - not totally sure what those are....needles??
  • IUI (we were not previously considered candidates for this because of male fertility issues)
Does anyone have any ideas of what else we could ask about?


We will also get the results of Mr. Turtle's latest semen analysis. I mainly focus on the female side on the blog, because it's easiest to write about myself, but we are a double infertility diagnosis. So that could be very important information going forward.


I haven't officially been given the results of my salinohysterogram, either, but unofficially I was told everything looked good and I had follicles growing.


I plan to ask if there are any negative side effects to continuing to take DHEA/COQ10 and if not whether Dr. Cotter can refill my prescription for that. I don't feel terribly hopeful right now about "trying naturally." But neither do I feel ready to make the decision to stop.


There is also the donor egg option. Since I wrote this post and this post, donor egg IVF has not become any more appealing to me. I definitely don't have the desire to start that process right away; at the same time I can't yet shelve it permanently.


I took the day off of the appointment. I wish I could spend it relaxing, but I will be busy with individual program plans and report cards which are due this month. The nicest thing I can probably do for myself is get that work done so I don't have to do it on the weekend.


Any ideas to kick start my tired thought process are welcome!!


Monday, 9 January 2017

Microblog Mondays: This Child

I feel like I've been living a dual existence lately: caught up in the process of trying to make a second child (I'll update on how that's going another time: basically, Not Good), while being riveted by AJ and how she is growing.

She really isn't a baby anymore. Of course, I still call her Baby Girl, and probably will when she's 20 if she'll let me. There are moments where I fleetingly see the newborn in her (a certain sleepy, secretive smile, the shape of her head and way her ears stick out when looked at from the back, the way her face crumples up when she cries). Will I also still be seeing those flashes of the newborn when she's 20, I wonder? But most of the time, she's busy reminding us over and over again she's Not a Baby.

I have four photo collages up in the dining room, two big rectangles with 12 photos apiece and two smaller ones, 8 photos each. In theory these are supposed to be updated every year; in reality this job is procrastinated because sorting, printing and displaying photos is a terribly time consuming and therefore difficult and stressful. So the photos have not been changed since shortly before AJ's first birthday, and they are all of her in the first year of life. Lately, I'm thinking I really have to change them up, because she Does. Not. Look. Like. That. Baby. Anymore.

I don't know; those (not so) old photos have somehow brought it home in a way that everything else, even all the developmental milestones, haven't. The baby is a child.

In a way it's therapeutic: As AJ grows into an individual, she grows away from the whole process of conception and pregnancy and even birth and infancy. It's nice to be reminded that life is evolving and surprising and meant to flower beyond its (amazing) beginnings. Her growth and change is a reminder that the future is unwritten and could be very different from the past and from the future I imagined in the past. And that's.....sad and delightful and frightening and liberating all at once.

I savour the moments that I have with this child, this totally unique life.

Also here is the Susan Aglukark song with the same name as this post. Because.



 More microblogs

Saturday, 31 December 2016

Fortune Cookie

We went out for dim sum yesterday with my family and in-laws. AJ was moseying about being cute, and one of the staff gave her a fortune cookie (nobody else got one).

It said:
be prepared to modify your plan
Be prepared to modify your plan

I thought that was a very sound piece of advice for parenting, teaching, or life in general. Actually, I think it might as well be my resolution for 2017. The one thing I feel quite certain of is that I will have to modify plans. Remembering that also helps me to not worry so much about things that don't work out the way I envisioned at a particular point in time.

Happy New Year. Thanks for reading.

Friday, 23 December 2016

Generations

Last week I went with my mom to an ecumenical service called "Blue Christmas." My former colleague and friend attends a United Church, and she let me know about this service for people who were having a hard time getting into "the Christmas spirit" because of loss or hard times. My mom wanted to go, and I went with her, although I'm actually enjoying Christmas so far. But I'm very aware of the different levels of meaning it can have. My mom has talked about how sad it is to be reminded of the different things she did with my dad, such as picking out a tree, that she won't be doing this year. I try to remind her that it doesn't have to be the same, that we can miss the way things were while still appreciating what we have, etc. But obviously I don't have all the answers, and really we are making things up as we go along. It's much easier for me because I have Mr. Turtle and AJ. I have lost my dad but my daily life has not been radically changed the way my mom's has been. I have people to go home too; she goes home to an empty house most of the time. My mom, incidentally, did find a tree: a tiny live potted one. She tells AJ it's "her" tree because it is little.

The Blue Christmas service was quite well done. People were welcomed "wherever you are at" and the programme and atmosphere were designed to be accomodating to people of any religious background or more likely lack thereof. There was a very good band, and music was a constant throughout the evening, much of it non-traditional. A variety of people officiated. One of the female officiators reminded me, unfairly I'm sure, of Melisandre from Game of Thrones, because of her expressions and mannerisms and the way she kept talking about "light and darkness" in a very dramatic way. But overall I appreciated the essence of what was attempted.

There was a part near the middle which drew my thoughts away from Christmas and into the realm of infertility/subfertility. The speaker must have been in her 50s, and she told the story of losing her father to cancer this year. Obviously this hit quite close to home.  She described how she sat in the hospice with her dying father, knitting a baby blanket, because her daughter in law was pregnant with their second child.  She felt she was "knitting the generations together," as she watched one life fading while another was quickening.

It's a poetic image, but it sent me spinning into a different place, reminded of my darker thoughts around subfertiliy/infertility.  They sum up as: I will get older, watch people around me get sick and die, and experience my own body failing, but without the compensation of seeing new life growing. Since AJ was born, this fear has faded a bit: she keeps us enthralled with everything she is learning and doing. But AJ doesn't have siblings, or so far cousins, though she has/will have cousins once removed, none of which live in the same city. Basically, when our extended family gets together, there are a lot of adults from 30s to senior, and....one child. Something about this makes me uneasy. I'm bothered by it even while I selfishly like the fact that my friends and family are not very fertile, by circumstance or choice, because my nose isn't always getting rubbed in our difficulties.

It's all very well to be comforted by the fact that babies are born while old people die, but what if babies aren't being born? What if you want to have those babies, to see the generations knit together, but they remain out of reach? I don't want to diminish the speaker's situation by making comparisons; she had an important story to tell and she told it very well. But it reminded me mostly of my infertility grief.  Cancer took away the extra years my dad could have had with AJ. But subfertility took away any other grandchildren he might have known. And infertility may well take away grandchildren that my mom and other family might have known.

Of course, then we come right back to the un-quantifiable awsomeness of AJ. I would not trade her for any number of hypothetical children or a hypothetical life. Nor would anyone else. But still. Infertility shatters so many assumptions, so many human comforts that we assume everybody has access too, simply through the ability to create a family.

For the final part of the service, people were invited to light a candle in honour of someone. I have mixed feelings about candles, but I chose to participate this time. I know my mom lit hers in memory of my dad. But I lit mine to acknowledge the years of waiting for a child, and for this second child who dominates my waking thoughts, but has yet to manifest. One of the last things my dad said to me was that I should not feel too sad about his illness because "this is the way it should be," meaning old people die and the young carry on. But there are so many things that should be, and aren't. The vision of what "Should be" might get us started on the journey, but it's not where it ends.

Lighting the candle helped a little bit, I think.

Monday, 12 December 2016

Beginnings, endings, and messy stuff in the middle

December seems to be a good time to write a retrospective post, doesn't it? These were my goals, this is what I achieved, this is what I'm working on, blah blah. Except as I get older it never feels that tidy. I am always experiencing beginnings, endings, and messy stuff in the middle, at the same time. And with some exceptions, it's often not possible to say with certainty what is an end and what is a beginning.

I am actually excited about Christmas this year. I'm not looking forward to any particular event; I just find myself more happily engrossed in the details than I remember being in quite a long time. For some background, my family didn't celebrate Christmas till I was 15.  For the first decade of my life, however, we did do a winter holiday at our cabin, which included a lot of the typical activities associated with  (a northern climate) Christmas: skiing, sledding, making snow forts, visiting my grandmother and playing with her cats, hot chocolate and cookies and family dinners. Utterly gorgeous, hypnotic memories. I remember skiing around my grandparents' acreage, alone, and hearing the sound of snow falling in utter silence. So really, we did have Christmas; just without the lights and decorations and presents, and honestly I can't say I ever felt deprived, but quite the opposite. Ok, maybe a little deprived that I didn't discover Christmas music till much later.

When I was 15 my mom decided we should try celebrating Christmas. We hadn't gone to the cabin in a long time: those trips ended when we had a fairly serious car accident (it was an eight hour drive in winter conditions). So for some years we had done literally nothing. But this year, 1995, it would be different. And I was all in. I remember I had $20.00 spending money that December, and I managed to buy each person in my family a present with it.  The parrot sculpture I gave my dad now stands beside his urn at my mom's house, and AJ always asks to hold it when she visits.

Some years later, I was out with university friends at a pub and we all got a little tipsy. Somebody said it would be fun to get together and sing Christmas carols. Most of the group probably forgot this comment when they sobered up, but I remembered, and so I organized a night to go caroling around my neighbourhood. Maybe two of us knew how to actually sing (not me). Most were agnostic or athiest. It didn't matter. Strength in numbers. We kept this up for several years, and everyone who participated said it was a highlight of the holiday season for them. Mr. Turtle came once or twice too, when we were first dating.

My first Christmas away from home was in 2005. I was in my mid-twenties. I lived in England from late October to early December. I had some  enjoyable experiences, but the job I found was a spectacular disaster. I quit in late November, but stayed for a few more weeks doing touristy things and planning my next move, which was Christmas in Greece. Although I enjoyed touring museums and cycling everywhere I could get in a day, it was bittersweet to be away from home and living in a lot of uncertainty. I spent some hours buying small gifts to send home to family in a large envelope, at exorbitant postage cost. The worst day was when I had to sell my bike, shortly before I left. My bike was the one thing that had always made me happy and when I left it at the auction house I felt that life was now truly crap. I  remember that I got on the bus and tried to give my fare to the driver, and he told me to put it away. I must have looked very pathetic.

But luck changed, starting with a wonderful welcome in Greece by my aunt (my dad's sister) and her friends. Although I was still at loose ends, I had family again and a rather more friendly introduction to a foreign (but somehow familiar) culture. We went out for dinner on Christmas day, sparkling in new clothes. My aunt bought an enormous and decadent chocolate cake for my (champagne) birthday, which took weeks to work through.  If that sounds like a crazy amount of pampering, it was, but it was also very appreciated after the stuff I had gone through a few weeks earlier. I ended up staying several more months in Greece, working at a couple of jobs, and rebuilding a lot of confidence.

After I came back from living abroad, in my mid twenties, I started playing with a community band. And so of  course, every December  there was a Christmas concert and music to practice. This added more flavour and fun and community. Mr. Turtle and I had a lot of fun with our first Christmas after we were married. We bought a real tree, a great big one, and lots of decorations. I still have a piece of the trunk that we trimmed off. The following year, we started trying to start our family.

While I don't do anything particularly religious to celebrate Christmas, I've always liked the Christian imagery and story of Jesus: a baby as a bringer of hope, redemption, grace. This has never exactly changed, but the absence of our baby brought sadness, and eventually, a certain sourness. I never wanted to dislike Christmas, so I think I kind of stifled my emotions about it. We still enjoyed all the rituals: decorating, visiting family, gift giving, music performance.  But always with the sense that this wasn't how we wanted to celebrate.

Since I thought that these feelings were related to infertility and childlessness, I expected them to change a lot when AJ arrived. And they did, I guess, but not as much as I thought they would. It's not until this year, now that AJ is big enough to get into the Christmas ornaments, and talk about Santa Claus, and point out the beautiful lights and music, that I'm opening up to a sense of awesomeness. I didn't grow up with Santa Claus and always thought he was sort of weird, but now I love reading The Night Before Christmas to her every night. "So much good stuff," she raves, spreading shiny balls all over the floor. And life is good. There are low notes. It's the first Christmas without my dad, though he didn't really participate in it last year. It is the anniversary of a lot of very sad and awful times. I don't want to wish any of that away, but I'm getting a lot more joy out of the small moments, whether it's sharing a dance with AJ, baking goodies to give away, or making my best effort at wrapping a present. I'm not holding back; I'm not wishing that I was in a different life.

Well, not all the time. Of course there's some wishing. Want a TTC update? Oooooookay. We have been doing Clomid cycles. Clomid, what a fucking tease. The past three cycles have followed the same pattern. The first two weeks are textbook. I have strong fertile signs, and a positive OPK around day 12 or 13. Ovulation seems to have been pushed back a few days, as it would usually happen around day 10 or 11, or even earlier (if at all). I have a blood test for progesterone levels on day 21, or about 7 days past ovulation. The first cycle it was 11.3. They consider anything above 10 to be evidence of ovulation, so just over it. The next two cycles I had much higher levels: 18.9 and 22.1. But regardless, the same thing happened each time. I have a peak temperature around day 21 or 22, then it plummets, and The Period arrives day 24 or 25. It feels like my body is saying, well that didn't work, screw this cycle and start over.  Now it's true that on Clomid my cycles are much more predictable: no really short or long ones and random bleeding in the middle. And they were short, before, too. It just bothers me that the first half seems so good and the second half so crap.

I tried to get a hold of Dr. Cotter to discuss it with her, but of course, she is away this week, so no hope of a phone call, and my appointment is not until January 19th. It would have been even later probably but there was a cancellation. I should have booked my follow up appointments back in September, but I didn't, so here we are. Too late to do anything differently for the fourth (and final) Clomid cycle. Not that I'm overly optimistic that Dr. Cotter would change anything or that it would make much difference if she did. There are so many possible reasons that this hasn't worked, and a 10 day luteal phase is merely one of them. Is there actually any rational way of coping with odds as low as ours?

I think part of me has already started to grieve this unrealized second child, even while I haven't given up hope.  I flashback to memories of pregnancy or infancy. The line from Leonard Cohen comes to mind: I feel so close to everything that we lost / We'll never have to lose it again. That's nostalgia for you. And yes, it is rather ridiculous that I am feeling nostalgic about pregnancy, considering what a nervous wreck I was through a lot of it. Pregnant Me would have traded places with Current Me in a heartbeat. A breathing, independent and healthy child? Yes yes yes oh please please anything for that. Please take anything I have but just give me that.  Current me has the luxury of looking back with rose coloured glasses, but the reality is I have what I wanted so terribly.

And looking at AJ, I can't help wondering if maybe we aren't meant to have another child, because she is so perfect. If she had even one major flaw, well, one could make a case with the universe, you know? but I look at her and think: how we could possibly get it so right again? On the other hand, one feels like such a terribly fragile number. There are a lot of hopes and dreams riding on this little girl. It feels like they should be spread around a bit more.

Of course, I know all of this is just me trying to rationalize and justify things that are mostly out of my control. What is in our control is what we do next, and I have no clear sense of what that should be.

But for now, I'm enjoying the moment, really I am.  Some more Leonard Cohen lyrics come to mind:

The birds they sang
At the break of day
"Start again," I heard them say
Don't dwell
On what has passed away
Or what is yet to come....

You can add up the parts
You won't have the sum
You can strike up the march
There is no drum
Every heart, every heart to love will come
But like a refugee.....

-Anthem

Friday, 25 November 2016

AJ is two

Two years since we met our little girl.

We celebrated AJ's birthday at the end of October. She had a couple of celebrations, which was fun because she had a few days to get used to the idea of it being her birthday. One of my friends who has lived abroad for several years was here for her yearly visit, and she organized a girls night out at a sushi place. It was my regular night with my mom, so I didn't know if I could go (my mom had been having a hard week) but my friends invited my mom to come along too, because they are awesome that way. AJ has been for sushi before with Mr. Turtle and I, but she really got into it this time. She sat beside my friend from abroad, who she was totally comfortable with, and tried everything that was put in front of her. She didn't like the seaweed wrapping but ate everything else out of the rolls.  This particular chain of restaurants also makes a big deal out of birthdays: the staff come around with drums and shakers and tambourines and sing and play noisy music. So we asked them to do that for AJ. She was rather non-plussed and kept looking around at the adults to see if we were OK with it, but she wasn't scared and even cracked a smile a couple of times.

AJ's actual birthday fell on a Saturday, so we put together a little celebration for her. My party planning skills have not noticeably improved since last year. I sent an email out the Wednesday before to some family and friends, saying "We're having a party! Let me know you can make it! Super informal, because it's in three days and I don't think these things through in advance! Also sorry if this is the first you've heard from me in weeks or months...." or words to that effect. Luckily most people accepted the invitation: apparently this was the most cheerful thing going on for a lot of people in late October.

At two years old AJ has more interests and preferences, so it was fun to take those into account. She loves balloons (big fan of the Laura Numeroff book "If You Give a Pig a Party") so we got her a bouquet of those. She's also been into dinosaurs for quite a few months. We bought her a dinosaur costume for Halloween. She refused to wear it for several days, until I finally put it on her big teddy bear to demonstrate what it was for. After that she started to consider the idea, and finally on her birthday she consented to put it on and she wore it all day. For food we had cheese and crackers, fruit, peanut butter sandwiches, all of which are AJ's favourites, and for dinner a big pot of spaghetti. We topped that off with a Dairy Queen ice cream cake. AJ received some new toys, such as blocks (two different sets), a purse and a backpack (she's quite obsessed with purses), some contributions to her education fund, and of course some new clothes.

This is the most brilliant toy I've seen in a long time. It kept her occupied for about half an hour when she first opened it. It's a "saxo-flute". It has 16 pieces including a horn part and a mouthpiece (which is like a whistle). You can put the pieces together in multiple ways, to make a horn of different lengths, and then put the mouthpiece and horn on either end and play it. It will make different pitches depending what size and shape it is (it also has finger holes). It's at once a puzzle and a musical instrument.



Another hit was a book with an Elmo puppet in the middle. They have an Elmo toy at daycare which is how AJ knows about him (she doesn't watch TV). As soon as she saw the book she wanted to "dance with Elmo". "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash was the music that happened to be playing at the moment. AJ did this amazing dance to the song. When Johnny sang "I go down, down, down" she would squat and wiggle her behind and then when "the flames went higher" she would stand up and wave her hands.

AJ's party clearly made an impression since she still talks about it some weeks on and sings Happy Birthday to herself every now and then. It's fun to see these social rituals take on more meaning.

What's noticeable/notable at 2:


  • More role-playing and role awareness. AJ has been imitating us for several months, but she's now sharing verbally what she thinks people in different roles do.  We were at the zoo the other day and two meerkats were hugging. AJ pointed to them and said "Mommy and Daddy." She also identifies toys and pictures as mommy or daddy or both. We must be fairly decent people who clean the house every now and then, because AJ loves to hug, kiss, share (at least sometimes) and wipe tables.
  • AJ can now share her observations and thoughts about the world in quite a bit of detail. Almost every day after daycare, for example, she tells me she wants to eat chocolate and "dance to beautiful music." She's got the important stuff figured out already. I love that she knows the word "beautiful" and uses it to describe the world. 
  • Speaking of music, she is very responsive to it. She plays all her toy instruments regularly, and often asks to play the piano or my Native hand drums. She has a turtle toy that plays some classical tunes, and she likes to drum along to them. She sings songs, increasingly coherently, such as Twinkle Twinkle, Five Little Monkeys, Itsy Bitsy Spider, Row Row, and probably some others I don't recognize. She dances all the time now. She also runs, climbs, and tries to jump, which I think she will master before long.
  • Considerate and generous. Oh, she has her moments of upset when one of her random whims can't be indulged, but if I offer her some snacks, for example, she will offer one to everybody in the room, sometimes before taking one herself. On the other hand, she will take anything we are eating without hesitation. It's a reminder of the biological prerogative: her survival is more important than ours.
  • AJ counts up to 10 quite confidently, and often tries to go higher, thought she's not consistent. She can say some of her ABCs (she still gets lost in the middle). She knows certain words start with a certain letter.  Certainly she's not reading (I don't think), but she has memorized many of her books and corrects me if I happen to read a word wrong.
  • Still sleeping well. Yay! Naps, especially on weekends, can be a battle, but they still usually happen.
  • Potty: After a long stall, where she REFUSED to go near it, she is finally willing to sit on it. We turned off the music in her potty which I think was scaring her. Also my mom made her a cushion so that the seat isn't cold. These two things plus a lot of reassurance have made a difference. We also moved the potty to the bathroom. I don't know why I didn't do this in the first place since AJ likes the bathroom. But I'm hopeful again that we will make progress here. We're still not following any sort of plan, just lots of encouragement.
  • Activities: parent and tot dance class once a week. It took AJ a while to warm up to this,  but the past few weeks she is participating a lot more and asking to be held and carried less. We go to the playground sometimes although not as often now that the weather is colder and days are shorter. We go to the zoo fairly regularly. AJ spends at lot of time with her grandparents.
  • At daycare we see more interaction with other children and she tells us about things she does with them: "Malcolm and Alice played with dinosaurs," for example. She also told me one of the boys hugged and kissed her. I asked if she liked that or if she hugged back, but didn't get a clear answer.
  • First time going trick-or-treating for Halloween! She was really excited to go and learned how to say "trick or treat" although she did not say it when the doors opened (too much pressure). She loved seeing all the decorations. 
I'm thinking about what to do with this blog since AJ is getting older and wiser. I don't think I'll share any more photos of her on it. If you will really miss seeing AJ's pictures, you can add me on Facebook. Email me at torthuil(at)gmail.com and we can figure it out (I have very tight security settings). My Facebook is way less honest and interesting than this blog, but I rarely post memes or political and controversial stuff, so there's that. I mainly post about motherhood and kittens (figuratively and literally). I generally avoid posting any sort of opinions or commentary unless 1) it's in my words and 2) I have greater than average knowledge or expertise in the subject area. 

I might take the photos of AJ off the older entries, or I may just archive those entries so they are no longer visible. I'm not sure yet. I like that the blog is public: I journaled for years and at some point it just didn't work for me anymore, because it started to feel too self-referential.  I felt like I was repeating myself endlessly and accomplishing nothing. Putting my experiences on the internet in public is a risk, but it feels more authentic too. However, that comfort with risk doesn't extend to AJ. The plan has been to take torthúil offline when AJ is either a) literate or b) starts school. I assumed that gave me about 3 more years of blogging but I'm not sure; she's pretty smart. Of course I know "offline" doesn't mean inaccessible, but I'm hoping I'm never famous or infamous enough that people will dredge the depths of the internet for information on me.

Wishing everyone the best as 2016 comes to a close and the year end festivities begin. More blogs soon about other aspects of life, with all its conflicts and complications.

Saturday, 29 October 2016

Perfect Time

Later today we celebrate AJ's second birthday. It will be awesome.

The past few hours though, I've been remembering the hours before 4:32am on October 29th: labour.

I listened to a lot of Moya Brennan. She helped me to be level and calm (as much as is possible). To be honest I can't recall a particular song I heard. But it was a very long labour, and I went through most of my playlist. "Perfect Time" was certainly one of the songs I listened to.  And I've been listening to it and thinking about the message lately, and how it really is still so appropriate for my life and all its questions and challenges.




Wishing you sweet dreams, and many dreams come true.