My One Small Thing

Today was tough for me--being Mother's Day. You might think that is to be expected since I am trying to become a mother, but the funny thing is that I wasn't even really thinking about this day and how I would react to it until I found myself in the middle of it.

I spent most of the day yesterday with my mom at the beauty salon and then out for a late lunch afterward. We got to spend several hours alone together which is rare indeed (my dad almost always wants to go wherever she goes), but I fought an undefinable sadness most of the day. I thought at the time that it was because of my upcoming birthday (36!) and what that means in terms of my chances of conception and just my life in general (less than 15 years until I am 50!!!). I felt especially old when I found out that the beauty school student who did our hair (and whom I work with at the call center) is 20 years old, which isn't so bad in itself. The part that really got me is that her mom is turning 39 this year . . . meaning that she is only 3 years older than me. OMG. I am just beginning on this road to motherhood and my friend's mom, who is basically my age, is in the home stretch! I tried wrapping my mind around that bit of information and it sent my thoughts into quite the tailspin. :)

So I was sad last night and when I woke up this morning, I was cranky in a way I could not put my finger on. What was wrong with me? And then I remembered--Mother's Day. I did not want to spend the day feeling sorry for myself, but the gloom persisted and despite the sunshine we got for the better part of the day, a little gray cloud hovered over my head. Finally I gave up fighting it and just let myself have the sadness, or I let it have me, one of the two. I felt sad and small and angry for a few hours, but then, while I was sitting in my green room with Chloe before dinner, I thought about what one small thing I might be able to do that might start to make a difference. This blog is one thing, but I need to do something more action-oriented as well. The fertility drops are another thing I can do, but I haven't started them yet, and I don't really know why . . . I think I am waiting until the time feels right. Or maybe I am trying to avoid being disappointed if they don't work.

I do know that when I go to North Carolina for the retreat, Randine is going to tell us that we must start some kind of meditation practice, even if it is only a few minutes a day of sitting by ourselves without moving or talking. I was thinking about that and the next thought that ran through my head was, well, what are you waiting for? Why wait until she tells you to do it? What if you start now--take two minutes to sit quietly in this room with one hand on your chest over your heart and one hand on your belly--and just breathe.

And so I did. And you know what? I felt better. My goal now is to take one small step in the direction of baby each day, whether it be walking on my breaks at work or getting up a little earlier to write in my journal, or sitting in the quiet for just a few moments without moving or talking. And even if I have to do it while I am sad, it will still be significant. And little by little, all of the small things will add up eventually to the thing that I want the most.