Just did my first progesterone shot of the cycle. Which means that if all went well — and if all goes well — our child or children were conceived today. I’ve still managed to remain pretty zen about it. I don’t dwell on it. I touch lightly on the possibilities now and then, and they make me feel happy, then I go back to my current reality, which also makes me happy.
I’ve also noticed that any time I see a Mexican person or an Indian person — especially if they are kids — I feel a little surge of warmth. You may share an ethnicity with my child(ren). I was actually introduced to a woman from India today, and I almost opened my mouth to say, “Oh, I may soon be transferring a half-Indian embryo into my uterus!” As if that means we have something in common. Ha. Of course I didn’t say it. For so many reasons. But I can’t pretend I didn’t have the thought. A small feeling of extra connection.
Especially when she asked if I had ever traveled to India. I wanted to say, “I really want to, and if my children turn out to be half-Indian, it will be such a great excuse to go!” But I didn’t say that, either. There are more than a billion people in India. What’s half an embryo to any given Indian person?
Anyway, just random thoughts that come up. I touch lightly on them and smile. Life is so funny and random. So many ways to connect, and so many more connections forming between disparate parts of the world all the time. Even, inshallah (God willing), in my uterus.
I slept late today, until almost 11, and finally got caught up after several early mornings in a row. Then I helped some people at the intentional community where I’m staying collect donated food from a farmer’s market nearby — at least 30 boxes of fruits, greens, vegetables, and even some pastries. The donors get a tax write-off, and the community here sorts the boxes into food for this community and food to donate to the local food bank.
That took about an hour of heavy lifting, then we came back to the house and further sorted and processed the food, then cleaned up the kitchen, which took another few hours. Just as I was about to finish that, I was asked to remove the bones from a turkey soup and break the turkey up into bite-sized chunks.
All the while I was spending time and chatting with some of the great folks who live and work here, and it was very satisfying to feel I was earning my keep a bit. It reminded me of Palestine, the communal way people do things, from harvesting olives to making pastries for the holidays. You’re socializing and enjoying the day at the same time you’re getting things done. It’s still work, but it feels less like work.
After that I took a leisurely walk around part of the Stanford campus where there are a lot of eucalpytus trees (they smell so good!) and views of the hills beyond campus with fluffy fog creeping over them. So pretty. Then I sat at the Starbucks just off campus without a book or a laptop or anything, just sipping my decaf latte with coconut milk and looking around at the sky, the trees, the flowers, the people, the crows, and the Teslas driving by. Feeling very content.
Then I got to eat the turkey soup at dinner, as well as a big salad composed of some of the vegetables we had salvaged from the farmer’s market, and I talked with an Italian guy and a Bulgarian girl as well as several old friends about the hand gestures in various cultures and many other interesting topics.
Someone asked me what brought me to California, and I talked frankly about what I was doing. There was a moment of awkwardness — though not from me, I felt totally fine about it — then it passed and a few people asked questions, then the topic moved on. Score one for normalizing something that is becoming an increasingly common human experience. (One woman later told me that she’d had a miscarriage with her first pregnancy, and after she started talking to people about it, she was shocked what a common experience it was.)
Then I took a walk again to watch the blue sky fade as the sun set, the moon a bit more than half full and not far from Jupiter. Now I’m here, lightly hoping some embryos are developing well, my ass just a little bit sore.
Life is funny. It’s nice. I’m glad to be here.