Uncertainty

I am no stranger to uncertainty. I hate it, and have really never made peace with it. This even though infertility and adoption are incredibly rife with uncertainty. 

But now, everything is uncertain. I am worried about what's coming in January. I am worried about how much things can change, how fast. I am worried about books, and control over print, and control over information. I am worried for communities of color, and the LGBTQIA+ community. I am worried for immigrants, and people seeking asylum. I am worried about the sense that America feels very much a place of AGAINST rather than a place FOR. I am worried for librarians. I am worried about teachers. I am worried about the environment. I am worried about women. I am worried about my students and my friends' kids. I worry about the healthcare system. I worry about future availability of vaccines. I worry about mental health care. 

There is so much worry. And disappointment. And disbelief. 

I also realize that I am privileged -- that I am a white, cisgender, hetero woman. I am a woman who cannot get pregnant and so doesn't have to worry personally about choice, I am stable financially (until I am replaced by an AI teacher in the classroom). I have great health insurance (for now). I live in an area that (for now) is free from climate change disasters. I live in NY, a (for now) liberal state that has civil rights protections (for now). 

But I am worried. And filled with a sort of existential dread. 

So...what can I do? Here is how I am trying to be in this strange and horrifying time: 

- Spend little time on social media. 

- what little time I spend there, spread stories of happiness and kindness and good in the world. 

- do not engage in political crap online. No one is ever convinced of anything on social media. 

- Love my students, who are scared. Provide a safe space to talk and be themselves and learn about lives not their own. 

- Read. Read. Read. Read. Read. Read. Read. 

- Get out in nature. Walk in the woods. Work in the garden (even though it's being put to bed). 

- Do NOT overdose on news. Like, listen to the NYT The Daily podcast, and read a few articles, but no doomscrolling. No watching news. Limited watching of comedy news shows (although I do enjoy a Seth Meyers, Stephen Colbert, John Oliver, and Jon Stewart), because it can ramp up anxiety too. 

- Try not to doomspiral. But also balance that with vetting sources of information and figuring out when it is the right time to be truly freaked out. 

- Continue giving to the Trevor Project, Planned Parenthood, American Indian College Fund, and the NAACP Legal Defense Fund. 

- Be nice. Be as kind as possible. Spread kindness far and wide. 

I keep thinking of the Anne Frank quote, "In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart." 

I hope things aren't as dire as I fear. God, I hate uncertainty. 

Halloanniversary #15

We celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary over two weeks -- it's a little tricky when you have two anniversaries (the "legal" one and the "ceremony" one) and the dates get a little wonky for weekends. 

We have some traditions that I am so glad we keep up. 

One: The anniversary tombstone (from a catalogue, not a real one, haha). 

I've added a really nice one each year to our cemetery Halloween display for the past 3 years or so, and it is fun to see it grow.

The whole shebang.

Two: Anniversary gifts. Usually nothing too crazy, although Bryce outdid himself. 

I got Bryce this cute Halloween bat message (and the tombstone). 

He got me something I saw and loved in Boothbay Harbor this summer but was not feasible to get at the time, and he had it SHIPPED to our HOUSE! Behold, the Anniversary Puffin: 

Is he not the cutest? He's carved out of wood and perched on a lava rock. THE BEST! 

Three: Anniversary Ghoul. Every year Bryce does a pen and ink drawing for me of a ghoul, usually related to something we watched or talked about. This year, I got this: 

 

MOTHMAN! I love the creepy winghands. Amazing. 

Four: Anniversary getaway. We don't always go away, sometimes it's a nice dinner out, but this was FIFTEEN, so we went to a lovely bed and breakfast about half an hour south of us. The weekend was all about reading by the fireplace, wine, hiking, and eating good food. It's amazing that this area is so close to us, and so spectacular! 

Ahhhh, gas fireplace you can click on and off at will. 

I want this reading nook. It was so cozy. 

Golden Hour view out the reading nook window. 

We hiked in Naples, first at Grimes Glen (a pretty flat hike but a lot of rock-hopping along the stream to get to the waterfall) and then an insane trail at High Tor. 

somewhat accessible waterfall

This tree stump/root bundle is known as "The Grimes Glen Dragon" 

Heading toward Colyer's Gully in High Tor

That's the south end of Canandaigua Lake! We are sooooo high up.

No missteps, it's a looong way down

It was practically round, like a bowl! Very, um, non-guard-railed. 

Then we stopped at a scenic overlook over Canandaigua Lake that blew us away: 

It was a great trip. It was a great anniversary. It is SO important to hang on to these traditions and celebrate these milestones. We are almost to the point where we've been married and resolved as long as we've been married and trying to add to our family. 16 will be even, and 17 will be more out than in. THAT will be worthy of a celebration of its own. 

2009, old house, young us

2024, older us, new(ish) house, just as happy if not more!

Do You Have...

This school year is going great so far-- it's just been super busy with helping my dad with his move and acclimating to Western New York from Southern California. So I disappeared a bit.

I had a parent call last week that was awkward to begin with, and the mom I talked to was saying how her son was pushing for more independence, and it was hard because she's been a single mom and they'd been a tight unit forever. 

Then she said, "do you have kids?" 

And I said, "no." Silence. "It didn't work out for me." Pause. 

Then she said, "Do you have cats?" 

AND I HAD A MOMENT OF UTTER MORTIFICATION. Did she ask me if I had CATS and I just kept on how I can't have kids??? 

So of course, being the queen of awkward, I expressed as much."Oh my god, did you ask me if I had cats and I just told you personal info you didn't ask for???" (Okay, floor, just swallow me up. Right now. Blerghhhhh.) 

She laughed and said no, she asked about kids but her son told her I had cats, and he loves cats, and they consider cats part of the family, and so it moved in a less awkward direction. 

Good gracious. Thankfully it seemed to be much more memorable to me than to her. Sigh. At least there wasn't the usual trite follow up questions or comments... I'll take "do you have cats" as a response any day! 

A Reminder of Time

There are two students in my school who I've known since before they were born. Twins, born to a friend I met at an infertility support group at our first clinic. 

They are SEVENTH GRADERS. Next year, they could be in one of my classes. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? 

It's sobering, because my friend was pregnant when I suffered my ectopic pregnancy. Briefly, we were pregnant at the same time. 

And now they are in the middle of middle school. 

It's so weird to think that I could have had a 7th grader had that pregnancy been viable, or a 6th grader had I not miscarried my second ill-fated pregnancy the following summer.

I enjoy seeing these kids about the halls of my school. I enjoy that I saw pictures of them when they were just a few cells. It's doesn't make me feel sad, which is lovely. Not so very long ago it would have.

It's just surreal that so much time has passed since our closest brushes with parenthood. 

A New Start

This was the fastest summer ever. (It was, actually, shorter than usual by a week, but it still sped by at record speed.) 

This is my current state about school starting back up: 

That, friends, is a big blanket of denial. But, tomorrow is the second day for teachers and Wednesday is the first day with students, and my room is probably 80% there but I am feeling 2% ready for some reason. This is the time when I usually start panicking that I have completely forgotten how to teach. I know I haven't, and this is my 16th year full-time in my district and my 18th year teaching (HOW DID THAT HAPPEN!?), so I'm pretty sure it will all be okay. 

I do feel fortunate that I get a fresh start every year, that I can tweak things and reflect and try new stuff with a whole new group each September. 

This summer had a LOT going on: 

• Got my hyaluronic acid injection series in my non-cyborg knee and am thrilled that if I can do it again in the spring, I think I can buy time before my next replacement. 
• A summer of extremes led to the WORST gardening season of my life -- too much sun and heat, then too much heavy rain... I had a root rot container garden. So much of what I planted in the ground died, despite amending soil. It sucked. 
• Spent much of July and August apartment-hunting for my Dad, who unexpectedly (but excitingly for me) is moving here. THAT is going to be major culture shock, going from L.A. to Rochester, NY. For about a zillion reasons. But, he'll be here in about a month, and it will be the first time we've lived in the same state (much less general area) in 34 years, the first time ever as both adults. 
• Had a highly embarrassing and unexpected expense when I somehow backed my car into A PARKED CAR IN MY OWN DRIVEWAY at the start of summer, and so I will be VERY glad to have a paycheck again in a week and a half. (Then I came within about an inch of doing it again when my best friend came to visit. I apparently can't see giant silver vehicles.) I'm still sad I have a dent on the back of my car now.
• Even though it feels like I didn't do NEARLY enough, I still did a fair amount of work for school over the summer. 
• BUT, I also made plenty of time for reading and puzzles, and we finally put together the folding-leaf puzzle table Bryce got me for my birthday (It's actually really meant for a small kitchen/dining area, but it's a puzzle table to me!)
• I read 22 books this summer. My lowest number I've recorded, but this summer I decided I wouldn't shy away from big books, and read several big and/or dense books along with fun brain candy. If only I was good at goodreads and could figure out summer pagecounts!
• I saw my best friend TWICE! (Three times if you count a May visit, which is a record for us!)
• I walked, a LOT. It was so good to be able to do that again. Lots of 3-7 mile walks on rail trails and the Erie Canal trail. 

That's by no means all of it, but it was packed. I think I'm okay with having some structure and routine. (Check in with me at the end of September to see how I feel about that, ha ha.) I may be overwhelmed with paperwork, and feel like I can never catch up, but I am so very lucky to love my job. And, despite that blanket of denial, I am lucky to actually be looking forward to being back in my classroom with a new group of squirrelly 8th graders to love on and learn with. 

A Minor Vacation Miracle

The Bayside Inn -- highly recommend! Lovely hosts and location!

We went to Maine for vacation and family things, and stayed 5 nights in Boothbay Harbor at a charming inn. We'd stayed there in 2021, and due to COVID surging, there was no breakfast served. So, we went to a small cafe with outdoor seating across the street. This year, though, there was breakfast, and as you may know, when you stay in a small inn or a bed-and-breakfast, this can be an interesting time for social interactions with strangers. 

Case in point: We stayed at an inn for our anniversary pre-COVID in our general area, and breakfast was a landmine -- one morning a guest asked if we had kids, and when we said no, it didn't work out, she continued with "but it's not too late! You're still young! (I was 43) and finally I had to say forcefully, "I DON'T HAVE A UTERUS! IT'S REALLY OKAY!" Sigh. 

Back to Maine: We cycled through 5 different couples during our stay, and at NO TIME did ANYONE ask us if we had kids. Or why we didn't have kids. Bryce did offer up with one couple that we live "just us and the cats," but that particular couple was very interested in talking super loudly about themselves, so it didn't result in any conversation down that line. 

HALLELUJAH! 

Is it because now we're older? Or is it because people like talking about their own kids and don't think to ask if you don't volunteer information about your (nonexistent) kids? Were we just lucky? 

IT DOESN'T MATTER. It was glorious. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the new normal! 

And now, some gratuitous Maine pictures: 

Last day, soaking up Ocean Point

Lobster Cove

Bryce tidepooling at Ocean Point (low tide)

The gardens everywhere were gorgeous

Somehow, it wasn't even 70 but I was SO SWEATY

Ocean Point with Tropical Storm Ernesto high tide waves

Muscongus Bay in the fog

The Wedding People by Alison Espach

It's funny how time changes you as a reader. This is a book that, had I brought it on vacation even 5 years ago, I would have DEFINITELY thrown across the room and then put on indefinite pause within the first 25 pages. The description sounded fascinating -- a woman has left her tattered life behind and flown from Missouri to Rhode Island to a fancy hotel she has always wanted to go to but couldn't afford, because she has decided to end her life. But wait! That sounds terrible! The premise is actually that she checks in at the hotel, and finds out through an administrative error she is the only person in the entire hotel who is not a part of a big, fancy, Wedding Week for a very Bridezilla bride (and groom). She gets absorbed into the wedding shenanigans and... well, read the book. 

It sounds dire. But it was actually laugh-out-loud funny as much as it was a completely accurate and wrenching depiction of the loss and grief when your life falls spectacularly apart and you don't know how to "do life" now that your life is upside down. 

I was so angry, though, at the immediate infertility subplot (that actually turned out to be central to the book, no "sub" about it), that I went to the description in Book of the Month, and felt like an idiot because when you scrolled down a bit further than I had, it clearly has a content warning for "infertility, depictions of attempted suicide, descriptions of miscarriage, divorce." I felt less mad after that, and once I really got into the book, I forgave it entirely. 

This book is INCREDIBLE. [What follows are not actually spoilers, if you can believe it...] I absolutely loved Phoebe, the main character who has lost absolutely everything -- she's done 5 IVF cycles, she got pregnant with her last embryo only to miscarry at 10 weeks, she has an academic career as an adjunct professor of 19th century literature that's stalled out, her husband has left her, and she's lost her beloved cat. 

The descriptions of doing IVF and failing at it (or IVF failing you, to be kinder) are SPOT ON. 

A couple notable IVF quotes (chosen for no spoiler-ism): 

"Maybe I just need to accept that my life is a Russian novel. ... I just mean, a story can be beautiful not because of the way it ends. But because of the way it's written." [I love that SO MUCH.]

"For years she had been thinking about was what she should put in her body to make it a super womb, and she was tired of it. Fuck my body, she thought, but did not say it." [Relate, relate, relate... I had major fuckit-itis when we were done, too]

A couple notable funny quotes (chosen for no spoiler-ism): 

"Everyone at the gallery walks around like, Oh, my, look at this white canvas. Look at what this painter has done with all this white space. He has chosen not to paint it! He has defied the conventions of painting by not actually painting! Isn't that bold? Doesn't that make you want to pay thousands of dollars for it? And some people are like, Yes, yes, it does, actually." 

"...and then she goes off about how I might want to think twice about marrying an older man in waste management like she did."  "I thought Gary was a doctor?" "My father owned landfills. Gary is a gastroenterologist. Totally different jobs, but my mother is just like, Like I said, they're both in waste management. Two men, on a mission to help the country deal with their shit." 

Funny AND IVF related: 

"Technically, they're called retrievals. But they should be called Egg-stractions, right? I mean, come on. It's just sitting right there." 

This was a book that when it was over, I was sad not to exist with the people in it anymore. The characters were amazing. AND, the book was very satisfying. It didn't have a trite ending. It didn't make me mad at the end at all. I loved the message of it. I loved that it was serious content matter, but also seriously funny. Laugh-out-loud funny, disturb Bryce while he's reading a very serious math book kind of laughing. (On that note, I had a very embarrassing moment at breakfast in the inn we're at in Maine where we walked in to get coffee with our books, and a lady said, "that's some serious summer vacation reading material," and like a total dingdong I held up The Wedding People and said, "oh yes, this one?" and she looked confused and said, "ummm no, THAT one" pointing at Bryce's book, which is, sigh, this one:)

Clearly, obviously, the more "serious" book

Really, I loved everything about The Wedding People, except for the brief moment when I felt sneak-attacked and then realized I just hadn't read all the information given when I picked it. And then I loved it more for how it handled all the things infertility, loss, and involuntary childlessness.