Fertility Yoga

I went to a yoga for fertility workshop at Om Yoga this weekend called Receptive Nest. The focus was on restorative asanas like supported bound goddess and supported child's pose.

It was heavenly. I felt so rejuvenated and whole since I walked out those those on Saturday afternoon even today's rainstorm can't dampen my mood.

Choosing Happiness
I got my period over the weekend--the first cycle since the miscarriage and for some reason that roller coaster of hormones combined with the generally overcast and cool weekend left me feeling more down and angry than I've felt since before I found out I was pregnant.

I felt deflated and so low I could barely get myself to do anything all day Saturday and Sunday except lounge on my sofa, watch reruns of Sopranos episodes, and monitor the unraveling of the events down at the YFZ Ranch in Western Texas. (Those who know me well know just how fascinated with religious cults... Don't worry I'll be posting all about that fiasco sometime in the next few weeks. )

On Monday, though, I emerged from my cave and looked around at suddenly blooming Brooklyn and thought to myself: What are you doing? Life is happening all around you and here you are, choosing to dwell on the things that make you sad, the things that didn't work out, the glass half empty. And so I decided that just for that one day I'd make a conscious effort not to focus on the negative but to choose--as if I were selecting wheat over white bread--the healthier option. And what do you know? By that evening I actually started to feel better, brighter, more enthusiastic about things. Now I'm not talking a 180 degree turn, but just a nudge.

Because things are good: I'm healthy. My husband is healthy. I make a good living doing what I always wanted to do: write. (Granted, I never really envisioned copywriting, but at least I'm not stuck in a cubicle doing something I hate.) And Spring is here. Glorious Spring and with it that feeling of escape, of freedom, of the possibility of renewal.

I see good things. Good things everywhere. Because that's what I choose to see...

Lazy Weekends

Neither of us have wanted to go out and do much the last few weeks. Aside from work obligations and the occasional dinner, we've been spending our weekends in our apartment watching movies on the sofa punctuated with a yoga class or trip to the gym. That cocoon has been like a salve, but I'm beginning to feel just the tiniest bit antsy, ready to go back out into the world, tired of sleeping and drifting.

Just in time for the truly warm weather... Then I'll venture out of my cave...

But for now, I'm grateful I have the husband I have grateful to have the life I have. Sometimes you don't even realize how precious certain people are to you until something terrible happens and bam--in an instant you do.

My Cat Knows How To Turn Off The Light

I'm not kidding.

We have two of these bedside lamps that turn off and on by touch.

So now that Janus has figured that out, whenever we're lying in bed reading and not paying attention to him he saunters over to the lamp and presses his nose against the rim.

On/off/on/off.

So annoying.

Al Di La



This past Saturday we finally made it over to the famous Al Di La restaurant in Park Slope. First off: yes, it was as good as they say. And no: the wait isn’t really as terrible as everyone makes out. We got there at bout 6:30 and put our name down, only to be told chances were we wouldn’t be seated until 9 or so. That was way too late, of course. (We were with our friends and their 4-month old baby so the idea of lingering that long was absurd, but we decided to go to their adjacent wine bar for a drink before trudging back out into The Slope in search for a new place. In the wine bar, we were told there was only a 45 min wait for their 4+ tables near the bar, so we put our names down there, got ourselves a drink and then discovered that our name was up on the upstairs list already. Seems tons of people put their names down early in the evening then either don’t show up to claim their tables, and, as we discovered later that night, the maitre d’ tells everyone to come back at 9. Guess that ensures a second seating. Everything was absolutely delicious, but some my two faves were the beet & goat cheese raviolo and the taglatelle with meat ragu. Yummy! Apparently their other signature dish is the tripe, but I’m really not that adventurous.

All in all a fabulous night. Sometimes all the hype really is justified.

12-year Old Stripper Shocks Texas

The oddest part of this story is the name of the woman in whose home the young runaway sought refuge: Demonica Abron.

Note to self: don't trust anyone with the words demon or satan in his or her name...

About Grieving

The funny thing about grief is the way, for days at a time, it seems to have disappeared. You feel happy and contented and think to yourself--"Well, you know this isn't so bad. I'll get over this, I know it..." And then, in a moment when you least expect it there it is, pressing in on you like a fat cat perched on you chest. Which is how I discovered myself crying during yoga last night. I tried to hide it--brushed away the tears and closed my eyes to concentrate on my breath--but there it was. And then a few seconds later, it was gone again. Just like that.

The worst part about all of this, though, is figuring out how to deal with other people. The people who want and seem to need to help me. Good, kind people whom I love and respect... In the process of all of this I think I've discovered that the world is divided into two basic groups of people: those who are comfortable with grief and those who feel nervous and unsettled in its presence.

Those who are comfortable with grief feel no need to offer me empty platitudes. They just acknowledge that something terrible has happened, let me know they're there for me and then step back. Let me come to them when and if I want.

Those who feel unsettled by grief--and until January 1, 2004 I was one of them; but that's another story altogether--seem to feel the need to fill the empty space with empty assurances. They want to do or say something that will make me feel better...

They say its so common, this miscarriage thing.

But just because its common doesn't mean it hurts any less.

They say there's only like a 25% chance that I'll have another one.

But there was only a 5% chance that I'd miscarry after seeing the heartbeat and look where that statistic brought me.

They say everything happens for a reason.

But just because there's a reason doesn't mean it hurts any less.

The best thing you can do with grief is acknowledge its presence and then let it pace the room like the angry beast it is. Eventually it will lie down. Eventually it will get tired of you and slink off to its own corner to lick its paws. Let it wear itself out because if you take the opposite approach and try to silence it and cover it up and tame it with logic you'll only make it angrier. More aggressive.

Grief requires a terrible sort of patience.

My Cat Loves Coffee

I'm sitting here drinking my coffee and my cat Janus keeps sticking his head into my cup to pilfer a sip. And when I spilled a little on the sofa? He rubbed his head allover the spot. Weirdo.