What I’ve realized of late is that I don’t just hold my breath at times. I hold my life. For the same basic reason. In anticipation. It’s a bad thing to do, I know, but it’s almost involuntary. Since May 12th, I have consistently held my life… as I introduced my body to all sorts of new things: Mitochondrial Energy Support pills, Co-Enzyme Q10, DHA, Folic Acid, Birth Control, Lupron, Lovenox, Progesterone in Oil, Progesterone Suppositories, Medrol, Estradiol, Gonal-F, Colace, Human Chorionic Gonadotrophin, Amoxycillin, Metronidazole, Ofloaxin, Terconazole, Phenazopyradine. *takes a breath*

Just to name a few.

Some pills. Some shots. Some salves. All more than this little girl takes in “medication” any given day. I rarely take aspirin for a headache (it’s got to be a REALLY REALLY bad headache). And the more meds I took… and the more I held my life in stasis… waiting to see what would happen next. All the side effects they told me would happen: moodiness, hot flashes, soreness, constipation, diarrhea, nausea, numbness, weight loss, weight gain, bloating, dehydradtion… you name it… I was suppose to feel it. So I held my life… held my breath and waited… because all of that was in anticipation of maybe becoming pregnant at the end of the cycle. So… smaller things in life took a back seat where they could – AKA in large part took a hit. Larger things became more magnified and took precedence and went under scrutiny… work, home life.

And here I am – on the other side of it all. Childless still – but with hope of trying several times again. In a new job that needs me and compensates accordingly. And refocusing on the things I put on hold. Detoxing for a little while and only keeping up with my vitamins and the diet on which I dropped 15 lbs… and finally

*exhaling*

*

The ride home – surprisingly similar thus far. AC in the car works – not to freeze me, but to soothe me down from the heat of elevated voices all day. Not crowded – if u stand, it’s by choice…. And I chose to stand (of course). Not cramped or crowded – got my position by the door (just in case I gotta run – (C) the Fugees) – just waiting for the conductor to call “Utica Ave”. So I can stumble home to my awaiting mini paradise

*

*

Everytime I find the meaning of Life, they change it
- Unknown

Luckily for us, Humans are designed to change. It’s through change that we grow and evolve and become better (and sometimes worse). But to expect that we’ll always stay the same is a fallacy. Even the most stubborn, non-changinist person in the world is changing every day (and I am calling ONE person into my mind that I know…) and how does he change? By becoming more stubborn and more entrenched in his old ways than ever. That’s still change though.

Last year about this time… I had received a bunch of baby shower invites that I summarily ignored. Just having lost the first love of my life (mommy) and not knowing what the hell was going on in my body made me bitter and angry. I couldn’t find any enjoyment in other people’s successes and happiness. And although it’s not Christian to be that way… it IS human. And it felt like these announcements were coming out of the wood work. EVERYONE was having a baby. EVERYONE except for me. And I’d forgotten the lessons I’d learned in the past. There was a time when EVERYONE was getting married. EVERYONE except for me… but I’m married today. You’d think that would give me comfort. But it didn’t.

Around this time last year a dear chapter Soror of ours passed away. Soror Delores. And I’d sworn off of going to funerals because I felt I’d had my fill of them for a life time. But Soror Delores deserved me being there to pay my respects to her. So I trudged out there in the snow to partake in her Ivy Beyond the Wall. But her service was so packed with people.. there was NO parking ANYWHERE. And circling around in Queens is never an easy task. By the time I found parking and jimmied my way into it past the ice and snow and made it to the funeral home, I’d missed the IBTW. But Sorors were still there, chatting and milling about.

One Soror came up to me. My dear Soror Alex (for whom my love and respect grows daily!) walked up to me and came right out and asked what some folks may have not wanted to. “I sent you an invite to Georgie’s baby shower and you haven’t responded – that’s not like you – what’s going on?” I had a choice. I could lie and say I didn’t get it. Or that I’m much too busy to attend. But before I could make a real decision about what I WOULD say… the truth came spilling out to her uncensored. “I can’t,” I exhaled….”I just can’t take it, Alex. EVERYONE is pregnant but me. I don’t know what to do and I’m not sure how I can continue along celebrating for everyone else and never for the making of MY family. It’s destroying me inside and I can’t even muster up enough real joy to put a smile on my face for everyone…” I caught myself right then. Oh LORD… did I just SAY all of that??? That’s the stuff of inner dialogue if anything!!! I thought she may have been like… “Oh… I see,” not knowing what to make of it… and maybe walked away. I forget sometimes that she’s a trained psychologist… and a GREAT one – one who actually cares. She sat me down and asked me what I’ve done to try to find out what’s going on — have I been to doctors etc? And at that point, all I’d really gotten were run arounds. Doctors who would diagnose then disappear or who would recommend watchful waiting. But I was feeling worse and worse. She listened attentively and then said she’d heard of a doctor that was in Brooklyn who was really good. She told me a few stories of Sorors she knew who had gone to this Doctor and now not only had they been pregnant but some were waiting on their next child. I suppressed the over excitement in my heart and said “let’s see before we get our hopes up”. She jotted down the name of the Doctor and phone number and the name of one of the success story Sorors and her number. She said, “Just try… you have nothing to lose. And feel free to call me if you need to talk.”

It’s no mystery that the number she gave me was Dr. Kofinas’ number. And we’re all mostly familiar with how this is turning out.

I bumped into her LS Georgie at chapter meeting yesterday who told me how excited she was to hear my status updates about the Post Op appointments and began giving praises to God. And looking at this lovely woman – the same one whose baby shower I’d hidden from going to, more inner dialogue creeped out, but i didn’t mind it. I said… “Last year at this time, I’d given up, Georgie…” and she quickly responded, “Oh… I’d NEVER given up hope for you!” And her assurance filled me with emotion. It was all I could do not to cry. Happy tears though…

One year can make so much of a difference. I’m a completely different person now than I ever was then and I’m so happy for it. I have renewed hopes and dreams that I thought were dashed to the ground because I had a lapse in faith – which is human. But THANK GOD for change and the ability to rise up from those hiccups and fear.

And thank you Alex and Georgie from the bottom of my heart. I’m not sure there will ever be a way for me to truly express how your presence in my life has made such an amazing difference. But PLEASE know that it has!!

*

For giving me light. For giving me strength. For giving me hope and teaching me lessons. For guiding my hand and assuring my step. For loving me tough when that needed to happen. For inspiring my heart and enlightening my mind. For showing beauty where I though it was lacking. For soothing me with peace and animating me with joy. For standing by quietly and giving me backing. Forgiving me. For holding me close or walking away. Even the hurts have helped me to grow. This life I live; this intenseness I feel; the skip in my step; the glow in my smile….

I feel because every day you allow me to be me and love me deeply… ANYWAY!!!

I feel AMAZING today and increasingly everyday! I’m super happy and excited this morning… I couldn’t even stay asleep. My mommy visited me in a dream last night. She let me know that it’s alright to let go… but I can ALWAYS come and visit to reminisce in a good way… and that’s what I’ll do. Best birthday gift she could have given. My heart feels light and the world is flawless in my eyes today. It’s my BIRTHDAY… and y’all who know… know I LOVE this day. And I celebrate it fiercely whether I have just 5 people or 500 (I’m opting for the latter this year so stay tuned for the details) But I ALWAYS have felt extra special about the day I was born. How else would I be subject to such WONDERS??? This world… despite it’s obvious horrors and disappointments is full of amazing miracles… tangible and unseen. I’m deeply humbled and honored to be a part of it every day that I am.

So the song I woke up in my head is playing the soundtrack to everything I do today and it’s an ode to everyone in my life!! So turn up the volume and get your Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers on!!! (Facebook friends – click on the link to come to my blog and dance with the rest of us)

Reppin' to the fullest for Queens, NY

I’m thinking I’m going to use the phenomenon I expressed in the previous blog to get me on here every day. I’ve been kind of trapped in my own head and I’m battling to get out. It’s not a bad thing… I just miss blogging. It’s freeing.

So the premise I’ll use to get some thoughts out every day is the Song of the Day in my head. I wake up every single morning with one song in my head. I usually don’t know where it came from. Sometimes it’s because I heard the song some time during the day. Usually? I don’t and it’s an offshoot of my dreams or the very last discussion I had before I went to sleep. And usually, it’s a song I’ve not thought about in AGES. Which gives just a touch more testimony to the amazing data space in our minds that we’ve yet to harness. I’m positive in my head I have cataloged over a million songs. And all I need is just a few notes from it to completely jog my memory of the song and it’s like i never forgot it. Earl marvels at this phenomenon when we watch TV. I know THE MOST obscure songs and he just sits there counting them off while I sing “Twenty two thousand, six hundred and forty three…” he’ll mumble as I belt off yet another song that he knows nothing of.

The funny thing (and this is just a bit of an aside) is how much a part of my life singing and performing used to be… and how much so many people in my life now have no idea that I can LOL! It truly took a back seat to becoming an adult and getting a job and making a living… But don’t catch me in the shower… or in my car… or alone with the stereo. Some folks have indulged with me (*winks at Kimmy for our numerous wonderous car duets*) and some folks have gotten in trouble with me (*smiles at Max cause my neighbor put a kabosh on our musical evening that time*) and some just listen and enjoy on rides home or away. I’ll never get too far from how music makes me feel. It was said best in “August Rush” (great movie, by the way) that you can’t give up on your music because it’s what you’ll turn to when you’re feeling sad or need to regroup and definitely what you’ll use to express your happiness and excitement. 9 times out of 10, if I cite a song to anyone… it’s not really JUST for the music… there’s a message I want them to hear in the words coupled with the flow of the song. I thought everyone was this way, but it might just be me… which is why I think very carefully before I tell anyone “Hey… have you heard this song?” Because once they listen to it… I want them to know that had I the chops? I would have written that for them but since that artist beat me to it… here is what I’d like to say to you… so really listen. Words escape me a lot. Thank GOD for singers and songwriters.

Back to the In high school I shared a respectful observance of my best friend Nicky’s obsession with Cyndi Lauper. It was easy not to take her seriously back then with the multicolored crazy version of Madonna’s virgin. And all the hiccuping sounds, funky body gyrations and the nasal weirdness that she purposefully put forth. But if you leaned in just a touch closer past all of that… she’s a POWER HOUSE. An 8 octave range achieved EFFORTLESSLY (you RARELY see that anymore), a musician with proficiency in guitar, piano, trombone, electric bass, percussion and as demonstrated on American Idol – Appalachian dulcimer. She writes and produces her own lyrics and music. All that to say is that she’s a force to be reckoned with. Hanging out with Nicky gave me an in depth look into her catalog – one that I wouldn’t have had if he hadn’t been there to help. So last nights song is courtesy of Cyndi – “All Through the Night”. However, there are 2 other Cyndi songs that I love and never got enough play at all that I’ll try to include in the listing below just to open up minds to something new (no message here folks LOL). The first is “I’m Gonna Be Strong” – the original one- off her first album “Blue Angel” – this didn’t get any radio play as far as I remember, however, I still have the black cassette tape TDK with the white label that Nicky made for me and how often I RAN that song after one particular break up. Some songs are really therapeutic that way. The second is “I Drove All Night” which is innately sensual and inviting and I feel in this song, she didn’t try to disguise her talent behind any gimmick or strangeness. She let you have it all the way.

Okay folks – enjoy my trip back to the 80s

*

I dreamt that my hubby and I were getting married… but it was our first time getting married. NOTHING like our actual wedding. There were far less people involved and I want to say that I was pregnant in the dream, but not apparently to the world… just he and I knew. And we were both overwhelmed with happiness and excitement. So all of this seems pretty normal — except that I didn’t normally dream about the man laying next to me… cause you know… he’s right there, and why dream if i can just turn over and tahdaaah? But lately, when I close my eyes… there he is. Wooing me and loving me even in my dream world. So when I do wake up and roll over, I’m just doting on him. And he doesn’t mind that one bit. In my dream world he’s a much more verbally expressive person. Everyone who knows my husband knows that he does use few words unless you know him extremely well. He lets his actions speak for him mostly and he is true to both. But the dream hubby version of him has mastered the art of self expression and does it regularly. What I love most, though, is that my dreams are a manifestation of my reality.

The man I married is evolving right before my eyes and it’s a wonder to witness.

Who says a man can’t change? You certainly can’t FORCE him to… but when he’s ready? Look out!

*

Then she asked a question that I’d not been asked before and it really got me to thinking.

“Who is your support network once the children are here?”

And I paused… I knew what she was asking. Who was really here to help me with the children. What family members (particularly of a female kind – sorry guys) would be able to lend a hand on a regular basis? The standard answers from most folks would… “My mom, his mom, my grandma, his grandma, varied aunties and tanties and countless female cousins.” But I ticked off that harrowing checklist that I’m now the owner of: No mom. No grandma. No dad. And then added to it 1 sick auntie that I trust. A few aunt in laws who have huge families on their sides. No girl cousins. I could tell by now she was seeing the wheels turn in my head and started to get a look of concern on her face. And I finally turned to her and said… “Well, I’m most certainly excited that I decided to join AKA all those years ago… ” And she giggled warmly. I told her that outside of my Mommy Cora (my mother-in-law) and my Auntie Ina (my auntie-in-law) I would mostly lean on the very close knit friends I’d had the fortune to make in life, several of which are sorors. That was a satisfactory answer for her.

I used to feel so envious… There’s a close friend of mine who whenever anything happens in his family, his wife’s family swoops in around them: birthdays, christenings, barbecues, graduations… whatever… here they come from the 4 points of the earth to surround her with assistance and love. Varied Aunties and Tanties… Countless girl cousins. And I would wish to have that. But my immediate family was like that so long ago… and now everyone is so old… the idea of my 1 blood Auntie climbing 2 flights of stairs with her bad knee to help me with my babies breaks my heart. And my uncles… well, I’ll be real – the one uncle I know who WOULD want to partake, is terribly sick as well. The other uncles are so ensconced in their own soap operas… one of them didn’t even bother to come to my wedding. (I’m referring, of course, to all the siblings for my mom – as all the siblings for my dad passed before he did, so they’re really all I have left). And ALL my cousins (1st and blood) are BOYS. I have not ONE girl cousin that I grew up with or who taught me to braid hair or play double dutch. So then, there’s that. I somehow doubt that there could be any REAL joy out of my giving birth from my family due to the fact that they have so many other problems going on… facing their own mortality, trying to get their own affairs in order after witnessing the death of their eldest sister… my mommy.

There was a time when my family WAS that kind of family. The swoop in from everywhere family. And there were varied aunties and tanties and all my mommy’s countless girl cousins would come and help roll out dough for Haitian patties and caramelize sugar for tablette pistache and bring all their confectionery tools to make glorious 3 and 4 tiered cakes with the silver sugar balls. And when it was their turn, mom would scoop me up and we’d swoop to them… and I’d help sew little heart shaped pillows for wedding favors or tie printed ribbons on a communion keepsake. And I was going through all that in my head while I showered the other day when I realized… most of these varied aunties and tanties and countless girl cousins… when I became of age to understand the tree that is family and started to ask about them to my mom… were BARELY related to us… if at all. A lot of “their great grandfather and my great grand father were 2nd cousins” or “we’re not blood relation… we grew up on the top of the hill together” or “we went to school together and roomed in Brooklyn while we got on our feet when we first came to America”. And I started to get VERY excited… because that means that I DO have varied aunties and tanties for my babies and COUNTLESS girl cousins that currently call best friends. And they have PROVEN their “swoop in” to me… in more ways than I could ever care to count… from silly heart breaks over worthless boys to life altering changes like losing a parent or a first major surgery.

So okay – they may not know how to make all the Haitian goodies… but they know how to make Jamaican ones and Southern ones and African ones and Indian ones and Trini ones and Grenadian ones and Italian ones and Midwestern ones and Colombian ones and French ones… and they’re ALL treats my babies won’t have to wait until they’re in college to experience. They’ll have grown up well rounded with this network of women that if I didn’t tell them any different – they’d be SURE that we were all related.

I thought about what I’d want these babies to call my network of women… out of respect of course – the ones closest to me, they’ll know as their Aunts. But they will call them “Tati”. My one blood aunt – we were trained to call her Tante Sisi (her name is Elsie and Tante means aunt in French) – but as kids you’re always talking fast and so it became Tati Si. So they’ll lovingly call you all Tati. And for the men they’ll call you “Mon Oncle” or “Oncle” (pronounced on-cler) before your names (which means “My Uncle”). And I know my babies won’t learn Creole and French from the onset, but they’ll have bits and pieces… until they decide they’d like to learn more.

I know I write a lot of posts about this network of friends and sisters. I know I dote on them quite a bit. But I owe them so much… when they’re present and when they’re not… for saving me from myself in despair – for offering their hearts up to help when i don’t even ask for it – and for their presence being SO strong, that I can call into mind this GLORIOUS future that I have waiting for my babies to come thanks to these PHENOMENAL Women (and Men) that I call my friends.

*

I am having surgery on June 2nd, 2009 at 8AM to c-section and remove my potentially 10, large uterine fibroids via a procedure called a “myomectomy” (http://www.myomectomy.net – warning – NOT for the squeamish). It is a procedure that lasts anywhere from 4 – 5 hours and the recovery period for it is about 6 weeks. I will be in the hospital for 3 days from the 2nd under observation and then I will be discharged to my home where I will be on bed rest, essentially, for the remainder of the 6 weeks. I will not be able to lift anything, bend, climb or descend stairs, stretch, reach, exercise, dance or anything strenuous until after the incisions through my abdomen and my uterine wall have healed. As per a previous post, my abdomen / stomach area is extended to that of a woman who is 5 months pregnant, so despite the bikini incision, I’m very excited to know what my body will look like when this is all said and done.

My doctor is Dr. George Kofinas of the Kofinas Fertility Institute out of New York Methodist Hospital in Park Slope Brooklyn (http://www.kofinasfertility.com). Without ever being operated on by him before, I feel that he’s a great, confident doctor. He’s been in the business of repairing wombs and getting women pregnant for a very long time. He’s been in the New York Magazine’s list of Best Doctors for 6 years and counting. If you make an appointment to see him for 3 o’clock, you will be waiting to see him till 5… but it will be worth the wait and his waiting room is filled with anxious new patients, old patients who are back for round 2 with the fruits of round 1 running around the waiting room and it gives you hope. He’s an older Greek man with wonderful bedside manner who makes you feel like you might be his niece that he’s working on, speaking gently and with assurance. He has told me confidently that he will reconstruct my uterus: “It’ll be like brand new – I’m going to perform some plastic surgery on it!” and for my malfunctioning cyst / endometrium covered ovary he will “repair it and restore at least 70% functionality to it”. I am glad that I got the reference to see him and that I actually followed through. (THANK YOU, ALEX )

I am on medical leave from my job starting Monday, June 1st. So I will be working from home once I’m off the drugs that might have me woozy or hallucinating. Although I truly don’t want to be on those long at all if I can help it.

I am petrified because this is my first major surgery. I am hopeful because of all the amazing things that this will open the door for. I am excited because I have imagined and dreamed my days without discomfort, bloating, inability to evacuate, fibroids poking back up at me if I lay on my stomach to sleep (which used to be my favorite position). I am humbled at the thought of having a normal uterus again… and maybe… just maybe… being able to carry to full term… a healthy, happy, little bundle of joy OF MY OWN to celebrate and dote incessantly upon so I can stop feeling like the Wicked Witch of the West about everyone else’s joy.

There’s so much hope in my heart.

Prayer is all I need now.

*

Being back stateside, it’s crazy the transformation that happens. When we were at the resort all week, phones were off and stowed away in our drawers and all the conversation, interaction and distraction we had was each other. I did dread it at first. I thought we’d get bored and be miserable for some days. But we proved to be all the entertainment the other one needed. All the entertainment, comfort, excitement, peace, confidence and partnership the other needed. We didn’t fight not once (not that it’s a regular occurrence), but we didn’t disagree or have any tiffs at all. There was indeed a perfect synergy. I told him a few times that I felt terribly selfish. I liked it a lot when it was just us. And to that he would smile, sweep me up in his arms and kiss me. It was extremely fairytale like. But we got stateside and it was more back to our old ways… which aren’t bad, but I guess I didn’t expect them so soon. We were working through problems being thrown at us by the airlines, cellphones came into play again and there was this…presence between us that was familiar but not like in Mexico. E says this trip is a springboard into the new us… the new and improved relationship that we are beginning anew. I like where the springboard has propelled us to…I just hope that what we had last week can’t only be sustained in Mexico