My dad is writing a book. As he finishes pages, he sends them my way and I get to read the story as it unfolds. How cool is that? The story is incredible--erudite science fiction in the vein of a Jasper Fforde. History meets time travel (with rules in place that are incontrovertible). Jazz meets Georgetown. I have a date with the book this weekend--just me and the pages and a white chocolate mocha. I am looking forward to relaxing and reading it more than I can express.
Time travel made me think of superpowers which brings me to my question of the week: if you were a superhero, what would your power be and how would it work?
At first, I thought I would be Fertigirlie, an infertile crusader placing babies in the bellies of all wanting women.
I would fly into fertility clinics, zapping embryo-laden catheters with my superpowers and plumping uterine lining with my x-ray gaze. REs would chuckle as they held up their hands as a sign of defeat. "You don't need me anymore, Mrs. Smith," they would say, motioning to their staff to retreat from the patient so I could do my work. "Fertiegirl is here."
But then I started considering the larger possibilities and finally settled on Communagirl. Because there are families that want to come together via adoption and others that want to come together through step-parenting or co-parenting or other formations. And the power I would really like to have is to bring families together by any means they desire. To speed up adoption paperwork or make fertility treatments a promise rather than a chance. To match donors with a system that protects all parties' hearts and to ensure safe pregnancies that come to term.
And others do not necessarily need help with conception, but could use a magic salve that could bridge differences within family. Antidotes that could salvage damaged friendships. A magic shield that surrounds the person as they enter into an uncomfortable family situation, protecting them from nicked feelings and leaving them with the desire to return to family after the visit.
Oh--and if I can't do that, I would like to be able to fly. Or at least become invisible.
Your turn: what is your power and how would you use it?
Now, the blogs:
Geohde at Mission: Impossible Infertile has a very cool post up right now about cross-pollination. Not of the insect and bird variety, but bloggers pollinating other blogs. Participants will be literally be exchanging and publishing each other's posts, with readers trying to guess the original author. No need for links or clicks in order to be exposed to a new blog--it will be directly on your regularly-read list. Wait--don't take my description of it--go over to Mission: Impossible and read it for yourself. And then join up because it seems just the thing we need to combat the lull that comes after the sugar high of Halloween.
Jenna at Epiblog has a heart-wrench, spine-tingling post this week on the anniversary of her son's death chronicling a visit to a psychic. It is hard to get the words of a psychic out of your head once the predictions are stated. I have only been to a psychic once and the reading both thrilled me and frightened me simultaneously (perhaps that needs to be its own blog post and how my reading related to infertility as well). There is that scene in Big Fish when the boys are looking into the witch's eye (am I remembering this correctly?) to see their future. And I wonder which would be better--to know and prepare yourself or to let it unfold with hope still in your corner (however fleeting)? Regardless, this is a must-read post.
Kir at Kir's Corner has a post about her mother now that she is becoming a mother. Her mother lately has been full of advice, and that advice is spilling into conversations with Mr. Kir too, prompting Kir to ask her, "Mom, you raised me, got a BA, an MA and had an extraordinary career, while having three kids, I watched you do, you made me a strong, capable woman, so why don't you believe that what you instilled in me would come in handy now?" I imagine it is quite difficult to watch your baby girl (or your baby boy) turn into a mother herself and realize your job is done. Well, except it's not done. I think there is an ache when you think your job is complete. But I imagine it is more of a transformation where you need to learn a new set of skills but there is a lot of carry-over from the old job. You may miss the old position, but the new one is pretty exciting too. I know it speaks volumes about my anxiety level but I cry every time I hear Ben Folds sing "Gracie" for his daughter: " One day you're gonna want to go / I hope we taught you everything you need to know." And sometimes Moms just have to shout those last bits of advice, review the major points they hope they made, before they turn from mother to grandmother.
Lastly, a sad but true post from Wordgirl at Blood Signs. She laments that it is just a numbers game. Her thoughts flow: "The magical thinking: Oh, but there was the spotting 9dpiui -- and maybe my hCG's just low...it's happened before -- I've read it. Fucking google. Sad and unable to write much else -- or frankly do much else other than crawl under the covers. I try to tell myself that my happiness and my being are not defined by the ability to have a biological child. I keep trying to tell myself. Where's my equanimity -- the wonderful settled glow yesterday that I felt so sure -- that this would all be okay -- that we will have a child?" It's beautiful writing that rings very true.
Have a wonderful weekend. Wait, before you click away, which superpower do you wish you could master and how/when would you use it? Okay, now you can have a wonderful weekend.