Albeit a little late. We were on the road today...
I've been stressing about coming up with my ritual--not really the point of the ritual since it is supposed to bring happiness. But as I started to list things, I started to find a problem with each one. Eat chocolate once a day. Sort of counter-productive to the whole watching-your-cholesterol-and-trying-to-eat-healthy thing. Plus, I'm not really a one piece of chocolate sort of girl. I'm an entire chocolate bar sort of girl. I think limiting the intake would be frustrating.
I could go for a nightly massage, and I mostly get a nightly massage from Josh. But that's something that (1) isn't a guarantee and (2) depends on someone else for my happiness. I wanted to do something a little more self-sufficient.
The ones I'm kicking around now are reading time from 10:30--11 (I go to bed insanely late. Like past midnight late because I am one half of the two stupidest people in the world). Starbucks Mondays to kick off the morning (not totally feasible). Yoga at home three times a week via a video tape. We already have a standing date-night-in on Thursday nights, so I felt lame putting that down as my ritual. I'm supposed to be adding something, not pointing at something I already do. Reading is my forerunner. Meditation or vertical time for 15 minutes mid-day is a close second.
Which is to say, if you're still thinking about your ritual, you can add it any time between now and September 1st. Which is next Friday. You can also put your name in the ring before you've thought up your ritual. All I need is a commitment to happiness and the url for your blog (or, if you are blogless, your name).
I've also started a post that chronicles all of the happiness posts--both on my blog and on yours--so people walking into the discussion can go back and read all the posts. So if you're posting about happiness or using one of the questions/challenges as a jumping board for your own post, let me know so I can add it to the page. I'm going to start putting a link to the archives at the bottom of each "Come On Get Happy" post. But I've been sucky about email for the past few days so forgive me if it takes a day or two to get a link on the list.
And now, the blogs:
Jitters at Relaxing in the Parlor has a gorgeous post this week called "The Word." It is about receiving the call from the clinic telling her that the cycle had failed and forcing herself to go to a baby boutique--not because she needed something at the baby boutique, but because she needed to face that site. As she walks around the store, swallowing hard and trying to mourn, she realizes that there is something for her on the shelves. "I started to leave. At least I looked at baby stuff without crying I told myself. I was proud. As I made my way toward the door I noticed the CD’s. One in particular caught my attention because of the replicated African fabric on the cover. African Dreams: Lullabies and Cradle Songs from the Motherland was the title. I picked it up and hugged it. There was something for me at the baby store after all. I flipped it over and noticed that #13 is a traditional african lullaby titled 'Eshururu', which I believe (don’t quote me) translates into 'my child'." As she says so beautifully at the end of the post, it's about letting go and making room for love. Please go over and read the entire post.
Rebecca at Which Way to Baby has a heartbreaking post about her D&C. It is not her first loss. It is hard to read about loss, but Rebecca writes in a way that is so moving, capturing those fleeting thoughts that burn and disappear: "The last time we would get to hug while I was still carrying our baby." The part where I lost it was when she is about to go under for the procedure: "I remember thinking, 'When I wake up, my baby’s going to be gone, and I’m not going to be pregnant any more.' And I remember trying to keep quiet and still as I cried. Then I woke up. The oxygen mask was still over my nose and mouth, and I couldn’t open my eyes yet, but I realized I was sobbing. The hysterical, heaving, uncontrollable sobs you cry when a brief moment in time has just permanently, gut-wrenchingly altered your life forever. A moment as brief as the flicker of a tiny little heartbeat." Go to her blog, not only to be moved beyond belief, but to give her support as well.
I missed this nugget last week, and since it's my roundup, I'm breaking the rules and adding in a post from last Thursday, 6 hours out of bounds. Me at Road Blocks and Rollercoasters has a post about being quiet when the conversation turns toward children. She begins by admitting that she has been doing a lot of thinking lately--mostly at lunch. It is a time when everyone at work pulls out their stories from the night before, and since Me doesn't have children yet, she doesn't know what to say. The post is extremely bittersweet, moving from funny to heartbreaking with each word: "I'm not sure they would appreciate me bringing up my conjoined twins which I miscarried as a topic of discussion. That would go over like a turd in the punch bowl: 'You know when I was pregnant with my conjoined twins they did they craziest things before they died and all...' I could see the utter looks of horror on their faces just as I think about it. There is a part of me that would like to do something like that. Mix things up to the point where they can feel JUST as uncomfortable as I do when they are talking about their children."
Lastly, Joyous Melancholy at Let's Make a Baby! has a post that I found extremely touching. On the eve of Clomid, she writes about how she felt before finding her husband. She describes her heart: "I felt like my heart was a vessel filled to overflowing, and I needed to find a second vessel to contain what was spilling over. I knew I could love, I *wanted* to love, but there was no one for me to love." Once she finds her husband, she tells herself that she'll never feel this emptiness again. "The day we got married, I thought to myself, 'I will never feel that void again. I will never again have to face that ache of loneliness and longing for someone else to help me contain all this love I have inside, ready to give'." But there is that void again. And if you are far down the line, you may scoff at the idea of Clomid. But I still remember the night I took my first pills. And stepping over that line, not knowing how far you'll go into the other side, it's a scary step. And I hope JM fills her void soon.
Have a wonderful weekend everyone and get ready for some heavy imaginary drinking come Sunday or Monday.