Ten Years Out, One Year In

Today's the day--the ten-year anniversaire d'crap. It's not been a bad day so far. I have this week off of work, and I've been puttering, thinking about it occasionally but not fixating. I'm feeling pretty tired, though. After I write this I plan to spend the rest of the afternoon reading, maybe writing a bit. I'll probably put some tobacco down tonight.

I've been a real downer lately, I know. And the problem is, it's hard to switch gears from writing about infertility and death and grief to a light, amusing story about the canoe trip I took for my birthday. But in the non-blog world, things have actually not been bad. It's just weird to go from a series of "woe-is-me" posts to something a little more entertaining. I wasn't sure how to do it. Then it struck me that I haven't updated my list in a long time. So.

2. Learn a new language: I am slowly (and I do mean slowly) learning bits of Ojibwe. It's pretty cool, and I hope to give it a more concerted effort than the general gleaning I've been doing. Revival of the language is something that's important to a lot of the tribal members I work with, and as I'm working within that cultural framework, it's something that is important to me as well, so I'm doing my part.

6. Write a novel: Working on it. I think I've figured out a system to circumvent my hyper-critical self and avoid the trap of writing a page, then spending 2 hours revising that one page, then deciding it's all crap anyway and giving up. I've just started a new story and have about 20 pages written so far.

7. Read 30 new books: I've kind of lost track of this, but I can say for certain that I have read at least 14 books and am almost done with another. I'm pretty sure I've read more than that, but those are the ones I can list with certainty. Revised goal: Read 30 new books and write down their titles.

9. Finish redo of house interior: We've done the guest room, the kitchen, and our bedroom. All look amazing. We have paint for the hallways, and beyond that we're not sure how much we'll do because we're not going to buy this house, and hopefully won't be here more than another couple of years before we buy our own place, with land, up on the Bayfield peninsula.

11. Find a sport/athletic activity I enjoy and will/can keep doing: I took a bellydancing class this spring and loved it so much. I took it back in Minneapolis a long time ago, and it's just so much fun. Unfortunately, the instructor, who was awesome, left town in June, so no more classes for me, at least for now. So I guess I'm still looking, but if that was still an option, that would be it.

13. Take at least ten pictures a month: I did for a while, but my camera just constantly pissed me off, so I slowed down. Now, however, I have my birthday present: A Canon PowerShot SX30 IS. I love it so very much, and I expect that this goal will no longer be a challenge for me.

15. Become skilled at IV starts: I got there, and then took a new job that does not involve IVs. I miss it a bit--once I got fairly good at it, I really enjoyed it. But in any case, this goal is dead in the water, unless Kevin starts agreeing to let me keep my skills up by practicing on him, and I don't see that happening.

19. Buy as much food as possible locally: We're doing really good with this one. At this moment, we have a freezer full of pork, beef and lamb that was all pasture-raised within walking distance of my parents house. Our eggs come from my mom's chickens, our milk is from a dairy in Washburn, ten miles away, and we get a lot of produce at the farmer's market and from local farms at the co-op. I know this is a subject that causes eye rolls in certain circles, but it really does matter. It matters if you care about the quality of your food, it matters if you care about the environment and how the animals you eat were raised and treated, it matters to your health. And if you're someone who gets all wound up about undocumented immigrants, it should matter to you, too, because the corporate farms and especially the large meat packers and processors actively recruit undocumented workers from the poorest parts of Mexico, and have deals with ICE to only detain and deport a certain number of workers at a time so as not to slow down their production lines. It's exploitation all around, and it's pretty sickening. And all that being said, I know that I am privileged to even be able to make these choices when it comes to my food, rather than buying whatever will fill my family up for the lowest price. Everyone should be able to have access to high-quality food that isn't actively damaging their health and their environment, and unfortunately that isn't the case. So, yes, meeting this goal, but only because I am fortunate enough to be able to do so.

21. Have a successful vegetable garden that produces enough to store: FAIL. My garden was a joke this year. The slugs wiped out the beans as soon as they poked through the ground, my greens never came up, the peas were hit or miss. I do have some healthy-looking tomatoes, but I don't think I'll have the yield I hoped for. There's always next year.

22. Make bread once a month (different kinds): This is so not happening. Maybe I'll get in the habit this winter.

23. Study Anishinaabe spirituality: It's a slow process, but I'm learning bits and pieces, mostly from a wonderful friend and co-worker. I'm really enjoying being immersed in this culture, which has managed to survive so much and continue to thrive.

31. Canoe on the Brule: Ugh. We did this on my birthday weekend, and it was traumatic, at least on the second day. The Brule River is beautiful, and the lower part of the river is great for canoeing. The upper part, which we did on the second day, is also beautiful. Not that we noticed, because we were busy falling out of the canoe and being tossed against the rocks. I recommend kayaks for that section. Either way, goal met!

33. Go to the Keweenaw Peninsula: Thursday-Sunday, baby! I'm looking forward to it.

45. Take bellydancing classes: See above. Goal met!

50. Get birthday cards out on time: Nope

76. Buy at least two pieces of original art: I bought one, from my supervisor's mother. It's a beautiful watercolor of a hummingbird, which she was selling at a garage sale for $4. I almost feel bad counting this as part of this goal, but it's still original art, AND I bought it directly from the artist!

79. Train Shane better: He is so insanely well-behaved at this point, we can't believe our luck. We have the best dog ever.

89. Watch "Deadwood": We just finished the whole series, and loved it. I wish it had gone on at least another season, but it was great.

97. Send out Christmas cards: We did this. And they were very cute!

100. Swim in Lake Superior at least 5 times every year: I'm at three times so far this summer, and there's still a few weeks left of reasonable swimming.

Lessons

Ten years, man.

Fuck.

I was driving to work a few weeks ago when it hit me, out of nowhere.

Ten years since the paramedics made a huge fucking mess in the bedroom, ten years since I got to know the ICU at Boston Medical Center better than anyone who wasn't paid to be there should know it, ten years since I learned what a panic attack felt like.

I learned other things, too, like how to pack up someone else's whole life, and how to chain-smoke and keep a steady drunk on without drawing attention to my little coping mechanism, and how to cry in public without giving a shit who was staring. Oh, and how major catastrophic global events that would drastically change the course of your nation's history didn't really matter to you when you were watching them from your comatose boyfriend's hospital room.

I could've gone without knowing those things. I think my intellectual capacities could take the loss of those little pearls of wisdom, and be just fine without them, thanks.

These anniversaries always poke at me. I'm cranky every year in late August and I don't know why, until I remember. "Oh. Yeah, that."

This one isn't poking at me, it's socking me in the gut.

I've said it before. We were not soulmates, and it was a hot mess of a relationship, doomed to implode one way or another. I don't wish we were still together. But damn, I wish he was still in this world.

Forget April, what do June showers bring?

This has been a shit day.

I have to say that I really do love my friends and I think that it's wonderful when we get together with them and their families. However, I'm not so much up for being the only people without kids at these gatherings and continuing to feel freakish and uncomfortable due to our sub-par reproductive systems. I don't think I want to do it anymore, at least until I'm pregnant or come to some sort of zen-like acceptance of and peace with the situation. And neither of those will be happening in anything resembling the near future.

We were not able to stay at the childrens birthday party and feel awkward for very long, though, because I had to come home to get ready for a wake this evening. The mother of one of my co-workers died this week. I only knew her a little bit, but god she was a cool woman. She was so passionate and involved in her community and the tribe, and unbelievably kind to everyone, but she also had a wild, mischievous streak. She had this huge laugh and a brilliant smile, and was in general a complete knockout. She was 51 years old and had so much left to do and give. She had a lot of pain at the end, and as she was a traditional woman, her family is taking comfort in knowing that she's with her Creator and free from her pain, but that doesn't mean it doesn't suck.

This has been a pretty crappy spring all around, for a lot of people I know. The solstice is Tuesday. Maybe summer will bring a little more light.

A Bit of Wallowing

And now we're zero for two.

We had our second try-for-a-baby attempt two weeks ago (on Mother's Day, no less). This one went smoothly. We put a lot of intention into this one. This one, we were sure, would be the one.

Then, 11 days later, in an extra Nelson-y, HA ha kind of fashion, I was woken up at 2 AM with what can only be described as some spectacular cramps, and with that, we were out of the running again.

I am feeling less okay about it this time around. I am wondering if maybe there's something wrong with me, too. I am wondering how many times we can afford to keep doing this. I am allowing myself to indulge in just a little bit of "How come that crazy bitch gets to pop kids out like a Pez dispenser and it's so fucking hard for us?"*

I have a friend who has also dealt with infertility and is going through her own process, and while I wish she wasn't, because she will be the most amazing mom ever some day and it shouldn't be taking this long for her to have that chance, I am so grateful to have someone in my life who gets it. She doesn't tell me what we should have done differently, or tell me to "just relax" or spout some bullshit about how God has a plan. She just is sad for me, as I am for her, because she knows all too well what a shitty, shitty thing this is.

It's been almost four years since we found out we had a problem. And I'm wondering how long it's going to take for a solution. All those women who joke about their ticking biological clocks really have no idea how loud, and scary, that fucking thing can get.

*Since I work with pregnant women, I feel the need to clarify that I have a specific crazy bitch in mind who I do not have contact with at this time. I bear no ill will toward the pregnant ladies in my life on a daily basis!

Half Full

Well. So much for twice a month.

I've been busy, what with the outrage at our numbnuts governor and taking a weekend to drive down to Madison to protest, flying to Vancouver for the International Meeting on Indigenous Childrens Health, flying to Connecticut the following week for a training on a group model of prenatal care, trying to get to a place where I feel competent doing my job, making an attempt to leave the house at 5:45 a couple of times a week to get to the rec center and swim before work (that's been hit or miss--shocking, I know), planning my garden and starting seeds, telling the voice in my head that says I'll be 35 this summer and no way will this next attempt at getting pregnant work to shut the fuck up, thinking about getting started writing again, planning a hopefully-last-hurrah weekend in Minneapolis in May with Em, and spending a lot of quality time with my awesome husband.

Additionally, I haven't felt like I've had much to write about, which is absurd when you consider the preceding paragraph.

One thing I wondered about with my new job is whether it would be difficult for me emotionally to be surrounded by pregnancy and birth and babies. Somewhat surprisingly, it isn't really. Sometimes I get a twinge, but ever since we got our shitty news, almost four years ago, I've tried really really hard not to become bitter and consumed with envy and anger every time I see a pregnant woman. I've had my moments, for sure, but mostly I remind myself over and over (and over and over) that one sentence is not the whole story. In other words, there may be many things in that pregnant woman's life that I would not want, and infertility aside, I think my life is pretty awesome, so the balance (so I tell myself) is in my favor.

All this I'm-cool-with-it equanimity isn't to say that it doesn't hurt and I don't feel sorry for myself. And I know that if I'm never able to get pregnant and give birth to a healthy child, midwifery is out of the question. I'm not completely delusional. But I like working with young, first-time moms. I like watching them realize they can do this, and commit to being healthy and doing all they can for their baby. The rewards far outweigh the envy, at least for now.

New Beginnings, Etc.

I was looking forward to January for several months. I thought, "Oh, January. The deep, cold, heart of winter. It will be the perfect time to relax, hunker down, and stop running around all the time like a damn crazy person." Yeah, not so much. January has been hectic as all hell. This hasn't been an entirely bad thing, but it has not been relaxing in any way, shape, or form.

First off, I am not pregnant. This is okay, for now. In all honesty, the timing ended up not being great for a pregnancy (more on that in a minute) and we're going to give it a few months before trying again. I'm not going to lie, we were a little sad about it, but I think we'll be in a better place later on in the spring. Plus, if I wait a couple of months, I'll qualify for paid maternity leave, an awesome fringe benefit of my wonderful new job.

And thus begins the tale of why January has been so hectic. Last Monday, I started my new job as Maternal-Child Health Nurse at the tribal health clinic where I interned the summer of 2009. This has truly been a dream come true, and I still can't quite believe I got this job. During my internship, the MCH Nurse at the time was my mentor, and I fell in love with the work as well as the community. She was leaving her position that fall, but I had another year of school left. We briefly talked about me applying as a LPN, but it wouldn't really have been workable with school, even if the clinic had been willing to hire a LPN for the position. Someone else, someone with a really great resume and background, got the job, and I told myself I would just have to try to come back once I finished a midwifery program. There generally isn't a lot of turnover for that position, so I figured it wouldn't open up again for quite some time.

My internship mentor and I had become very good friends, and we always talked about how great it would be to work together again someday. She finished up her own school this spring and is now a nurse-midwife, and had gone back to the clinic to head up a new MCH department. I thought and hoped that maybe someday we could work together in a midwifery practice for the tribe. Then she called me at the end of November and said that the MCH Nurse had submitted her resignation. I got my application in as soon as I could, and wrote the most gushing cover letter I have every written. I knew that I didn't have the work experience to wow anyone, but I did have the passion and desire to be doing that work specifically, in that community specifically, and I told them so. I interviewed on January 3rd and was offered the position the next day.

So I've been there a week, and I could not be happier. I still don't have a phone or a computer, but I'm also still orienting, so that's okay. The staff is wonderful and I share an office with my friend, who is also now my supervisor (and I realize that's not always ideal, but we are both talkers with a similar vision for the program, and I am more than aware that she's a brilliant person with a lot of respect in the community and many years of experience doing my job, so I'm happy to take direction from her). It's a 40-minute commute, but I'm not exactly sitting on I-94--my drive to work takes me up the Bayfield peninsula and it's gorgeous. I get to go to trainings and conferences--I'm going to the International Conference on Indigenous Children's Health in Vancouver in March--and meet all kinds of intelligent people doing incredible work. Like I said, I still can't quite believe I got this job.

Several years ago, I went a long time struggling to find any job that I could actually live on, let alone one I actually wanted. I liked my job at the Cancer Center, but it wasn't my dream. If anyone had told me four years ago that I would be in this position, I would have found it hard to believe. I don't know that I'll ever be able to take this for granted now. I hope not.

To Russia, with...curiosity

A quick shout out to my reader(s) in the former Soviet region! Would you mind doing me a solid and telling me who you are and why you're reading this blog? I'm dying to know, especially since it's a direct entry and not via google. How have I been graced with such exotic readership? I thank you in advance and send virtual blinis and fancy European-style kisses your way.

xoxo

P.S. I moderate my comments so it won't show up til I give the okay, just so's you know.