Today is Bijou Bear's 4th birthday. Happy Birthday Bijou aka sweet girl/bug-a-boo/babybear. I haven't shared this with very many people but I essentially lost custody of Bijou a few months ago. She now lives in Colorado with my ex. She is very happy, healthy and playing in the mountains, as we speak. This experience is par for the course in that the universe sends me the same lesson over and over with the hopes that I will eventually "get it". Yay for painful life lessons! What are my recurring lessons, you ask? Learning how to let go gracefully, having more solid boundaries, and having higher expectations from the start. I have a little stubborn streak (red hair does that to you), so I have a very difficult time letting go, especially when "there is still hope" or when "it doesn't seem fair". These thoughts pose a serious challenge because my optimism seems limitless and I am learning that not everyone has the same idea of "fair" that I do. These personality traits seem positive, right? Perhaps, but there comes a point when having hope becomes delusional and "fair" is relative when not everyone's justice system follows the same moral code. And by the way, I am not saying my code is superior in anyway. I have done my fair share of shitty things to people but I have also learned that karma is no joke, ya'll. This knowledge of karma can bring comfort when I am on the receiving end.  I think I have mentioned before that I refuse to get jaded just because people can be shitty sometimes. So where do I go from here? Once the optimism bubble is popped and my idea of "fair" is F&^%'d, how can I move past this groundhog's day once and for all? How does one recognize when it is time to say "peace" to someone or some fight that doesn't serve you anymore? I think the answer is practice. I don't think you know until you know. Only through having the experience or experiences will I know how to recognize the symptoms of "holding on too long".  "Why didn't I see it earlier?,  How could I let it play out like this?, Why didn't I choose more carefully?." These are some of the thoughts that keep me stuck in the past. So I am trading those thoughts in for: "Nothing went wrong.", "It played out exactly the way it should have.", and I wouldn't know what I know now, if it weren't for this experience." So, have I learned my lesson? Have I finally learned how to let go gracefully? Probably not, but I get better at it every time. 

One of the life coach gurus that I follow, Brooke Castillo, says that we are meant to feel negative emotion 50% of the time. The problem with that only arises when we fight with reality and try and avoid feeling those uncomfortable emotions like loss, disappointment, or anger even. Byron Katie, another wise woman, says that when you argue with reality, you lose only 100% of the time. So today my plan is to let it in. I have definitely been putting the Bijou thoughts on hold, not because I am in denial but because I just don't want to miss her. Every time the memory reel starts, I hit pause. But today I am going to let it play and once all the negative emotion has it's turn I am going to focus on gratitude. Because I am grateful. I am grateful for the painful lessons that I have learned, rather, that I am still learning, and for the beautiful memories that I have of her. But mostly I am grateful for the joy and love that I still get to feel for her. 

It was meant to happen this way because that is the way it happened, right? It seems that I have been on the express train to character building experiences throughout my life, to the extent that the idea of a predictable life is both refreshing and a little anxiety provoking. A simple life; go to work 9-5, take the dog for a walk, get groceries, make dinner, chill with a book, share my day with that special someone, hit the sack, wake up, repeat.  My life has been the opposite of that for as long as I can remember, and the simple life seems sweeter by the day.

Speaking of sweet, things have been moving on hyper-speed with Christian and I. Since my last post, I have moved to Richardson, Texas, and we are now co-habitating in a cute little townhome apartment community. However, the driving is killing me, ya'll. I know Austin is known for its terrible downtown traffic too, but I had found my little bubble and was never more than 10 minutes away from anywhere I needed to be. So this new life of having to drive 20-30 minutes to get anywhere feels like a waste of my life essence. Besides the driving, the other big adjustment is the lack of nature in close proximity. My time in nature is all about reconnecting and refueling, so that I have the ability to stay present in the world in which I live and work. My work life is super social by nature, and if I don't find a way to center, I find that I have nothing left to give.  I know that I haven't been able to refuel when I stop engaging with people behind the counter at my local coffee shop, when little things get my goat, or when the Overwhelm hits so hard that Netflix becomes my bestie.

I lived in Austin for almost 24 years, so the adjustment to my new zip code has been a little rough at times. In fact, I am in a bit of denial. At events when I teach workshops to new and veteran dancers, I find it challenging to say that I am from anywhere other than Austin. I do it, but I feel like a traitor. Perhaps, I am being a little melodramatic, sure, but this is indeed a bit of an identity crisis.  Fortunately, I do get to go back to Austin on a semi-frequent basis and I see quite a few of my Austin tribe members at dance events for work. The move to Richardson, although a quick decision, took several months to complete. Every trip back I would load up ROCKC, my white FJ Cruiser, with boxes full of my life, and somehow find room for it all in our small apartment. These past few months or so have been quite hectic to say the least.  So far, I have been adjusting to a new city, rebuilding my local business, traveling back and forth to Austin every two weeks, and out of town for work gigs on the weekends, all the while adjusting to a new relationship and slowly working my way into a 4 year old's reality.

Then not too long ago, on the morning of May 31st, duhduhdunnnn, I found out that I was pregnant. Yep! I have probably spent a small fortune over the years on those little sticks and not once has one of them displayed that extra line in pink, but this time it did. Well, all three of them did. I was half in disbelief, and half overjoyed, so much so, that I found myself jumping up and down in the bathroom for a bit. Flash back to September of last year, when I declared in my Landmark course that "I wanted to find my person and start a family with them by my next birthday." Well, all I have to say is, that it is amazing what you can create with language and intention. The universe is listening ya'll. My birthday was May 24th and we indeed conceived the week before. I find that pretty cray cray. It is one thing to wish for something and it is another to hold the reality in your hand. When I initially told Christian, there was a lot of nervous laughter, followed by each of our own versions of shock. His shock was weighted on the practical side: concerns of money, housing, the reality of sleepless nights, how it will affect Elliot, etc. while my concerns were focused on physical worries and the statistics of miscarriage or other complications at my age. So we talked through it all and by the end of several weeks of sharing our fears we put our focus on what was possible. Although it was difficult to do sometimes, I let myself get excited about it.

I have since been absorbed in podcasts and pregnancy apps and telling a few people the news here and there. I know most people tend to keep the news to themselves until after the first trimester, but that just isn't who I am. It was interesting to feel the pressure not to tell because that was what most people do. I get it, "what if I miscarry" and then I have to tell everyone the bad news and live it all over again. "Well, I guess I will have that many more people to support me, right?"  I think everyone must walk their own path on this, of course, but I definitely think it would be nice if it weren't such a taboo subject. In fact, I recently learned that according to the March of Dimes, about 15-25% of recognized pregnancies will end in a miscarriage. And 1 in 3 first pregnancies will miscarry.  So, it really is unfortunate that most of us don't know these statistics ahead of time.  Perhaps there would be a little less shame and blame associated with having a miscarriage if the statistics were more common knowledge. This past weekend after a fun work event, I added an extra day of festivities with my tribe member, Liz, in one of our favorite towns, New Orleans. For whatever reason, when I spend time there, magical serendipitous things happen. Liz and I  spent just one extra night out on the town dancing and listening to some amazing live music on Frenchmen with a few friends. The mocktails I ordered hit the spot and our steal dancing wowed the crowd.  I will say, it was a unique experience being completely sober in New Orleans, but I had a blast nonetheless or perhaps even more so than previous outings.  The next morning we finished off our adventure at one of our favorite brunch places, Surrey's, where we threw down some Bananas Fosters French Toast and a Crabmeat Omelette. Truly decadent.

With our 8 hour trip looming we settled in for a long ride full of chit chat, podcasts, music, and more chit chat. A few hours in, I started experiencing some unusual cramping. It should be noted that throughout a pregnancy cramping is quite normal, along with a lot of other unnecessary discomforts that don't need to be mentioned here. But unfortunately, this cramping led to a miscarriage. I was almost 7 weeks along. It is amazing how every day feels like a milestone during those first weeks, so much so, that the desire to get to that safe part of the timeline can consume you.  And if you aren't careful you can worry yourself into missing the joyful part of the experience of the first few months all together. I had spent quite a bit of time visualizing my future little one as a positivity exercise. I could see him holding my hand as we went for a stroll.  That is how I knew, before I knew for certain. I tried to visualize him and I couldn't see him anymore. And the word MISCARRIAGE was all I could see in my mind's eye. That is, of course, when it happened.

These past few days have been rough, to say the least. I am currently balancing between letting myself feel the feels and focusing on the positives. Yep, the positives. "What could be positive about having a miscarriage?, you ask." Well, a friend of mine who has experienced a great deal of loss over the past few years inspired me to use some new powerful language. When talking about the aftermath of his loss, he frequently uses the expression,  "I get to". So here goes, I get to relate to every other woman who has been on this emotional roller coaster, I get to spend more time with Christian and Elliot and bond as a family, and we get more time to financially and emotionally prepare for the possibility of a new family member. Besides, the faster I heal, the sooner I can get back on the horse. Yep, I did that on purpose. But in no way am I delusional. I get that I will be going through some unexpected and inopportune waves of mourning. In fact, as I sit here in the car, on another long distance road trip, I can feel my body in trauma. Don't worry, I will avoid all the gory details. But what I do want to share is the feeling of emptiness and not just in the places you would expect, like my womb or my heart, but in every cell of my body or perhaps my soul. I know that sounds a little dramatic, but for me it was as if a little soul shared space with mine and when it left an unfamiliar sort of loneliness arrived.  I know I make it sound like I might be falling apart, but the truth is, that I am actually in pretty good shape. I prepared for this possibility and I am in no way blaming myself or the universe for my loss. I don't know what is in store, but what I do know, is that universe trades up when it comes to experiences like these and generally wonderful growth and awareness come from our most difficult times. However, I do think it will take stepping away from the desire to resist and fight the reality before me, so that I can move through acceptance and create space for something new and even more beautiful. 

It was meant to happen this way because that is the way it happened. 

July 2
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So, alot has happened since the last time I posted. Last month was the first time that I was able to give the IUI process a go. I think the overwhelming feeling was a combination of "hope" and "this is kinda crazy".  Overall, I was calmly curious about the outcome. Unlike, the month prior when I was unable to even give it a try due to uncontrollable circumstances. For some reason, that bummed me out more than spending a ton of money, going through a painful procedure, and waiting two weeks to have it be all for naught. Maybe I was just happy to get the ball rolling after all the contemplation and anticipation over the past two years.  Nurse Kelly said I was a trooper. I guess most women are quite vocal about the pain during the procedure. I was quite surprised at that and the amount of cramping I experienced after the fact. I thought, "perhaps this is a good sign", but who knows what was really going on in there. So, I walked around for two weeks pondering my future thoroughly. I thought about what sort of side job I might need to get to ensure that I can get really good insurance when the time comes. I looked into a few things but  after 17 years in the same occupation and 6 years of working for myself, it's really hard to imagine working for the "man" or "woman". I also, get that starting a family is supposed to be about making sacrifices and being selfless and doing what ya gotta do, but I'm not so sure how I feel about that. Maybe its my stubborn side that rejects all the "supposed tos" in life. Maybe I have an idealistic perspective on what could be, no matter the subject.  But first things first. Gotta get preggos. Unfortunately, this is my super busy travel season. Essentially I am out of town for work events every weekend until mid September. This makes things quite challenging since I can't exactly control when I am ovulating. And if I'm ovulating on the weekend it ain't happenin'. So, as it turns out, this last potential opportunity went by while I was still in Canada. Now, yes, I had the thought of just hooking up with a fine strapping Canadian specimen and I even contemplated whether my future offspring would have dual-citizenship. Kidding. The truth be told, I've thoroughly thought through the option of a random hook up in the past and ruled it out for good reason. Mainly, that it isn't in the best interest of the child, it's not exactly safe, and it's quite deceitful, in regards to the unknowing male participant. But oh, so tempting and a lot cheaper. Too bad their Prime Minister is married. I might have made an exception. 


An unfortunate side effect to my decision to "go at it alone" is that I can't shake the thought that my dating life is sort of over for a long long while.  I know that if I were to council myself I would say in my idealistic way "you never know what the future has in store" and "thoughts become things" and all that other fluffy commentary that I actually subscribe to. But really, I can't exactly go on any dates and have this discussion: He asks; "So tell me a little about yourself?"   I respond:  "Well, I am currently in the process of starting a family on my own through artificial insemination, no biggie." or "So how soon are you ready to start a family?.... Oh right, we should probably get to know each other before we have a baby together. That's probably a good idea....Yeah well, I don't really have time for that.  Next?" 

-to be continued- August 31

These last few months have been extremely full of work travel. I have enjoyed every trip but am looking forward to enjoying a few weekends at home again. But that will have to wait a few more weeks, sadly.  As will my next attempt at mommy-hood. With my big event coming up next weekend I chose not to try this last month. I have been told that stress can be a huge factor during conception and I didn't really want to risk it. So it's back to the drawing board, again. Later this month, I will try again. I spent some time last weekend with a friend who is currently expecting, so I'm hoping it rubbed off a little. I rubbed her belly a few times for good luck. I have been getting on track with my health as of late and organizing my life to help make room for this new potential reality. I have also moved in with a close friend who has great energy and loads of experience with babies. Many of you might not know that I taught Montessori preschool for three years. So I am very comfortable connecting and communicating with little humans and big humans from the ages of 2 and above but babies are entirely foreign to me. All I have in my wheelhouse is raising a puppy. "It's pretty much the same thing, right?"

So next on my list besides setting up my doctor's appointments is to start my life coach business. I think I have put that on hold for a few reasons; fear of what seems like holding someone's life in my hands, not feeling entirely stable in my own life, and just my usual go-to avoidance tendency. Yay, for unconscious behaviors running our lives. But I feel a shift. I've always noticed how discipline begets discipline. And as I've gotten more organized at home, that led to being more financially prepared, physically healthy and less avoidant, in general. So, the Netflix marathons are now more like half marathons. I'm feeling like I'm getting closer to taking that next step in my career and in my own personal growth. The discomfort is part of the journey, and I'm not going to get anywhere if I don't cross that bridge. I just hope I can keep up the momentum I've got going right now to push me to the other side. 

So, we missed the window this last time, no big deal, I thought. Well, the first two days after getting the news I told myself that this was to be expected, that realistically this could take up to a year, at least. However, the days that followed surprised me. I was definitely in a funk. Perhaps, because things finally got real.  Once you take the leap, the excitement builds and you allow yourself to get a little hopeful, a little higher if you will. But as you know, the higher you get the further you have to fall. I wonder how one maintains emotional sanity through all the ups and downs. I am sure most people will say by leaning on your friends and family, but I am not very good at asking for help, so those few low days were pretty rough. Granted, my disappointment was nothing compared to miscarrying or losing a loved one but the emotions that came up for me were definitely in line with the 5 stages of grief. I actually kind of just stuck with three: anger, depression and acceptance. Anger at my ex for taking away precious time, Depression out of fear that it won't happen, and Acceptance because that is what I do best. You wouldn't think that Acceptance could be a character fault, but in my case, it can be. I am a little too good at accepting people and situations for what and who they are. But that is a story for another time.  So, I finally snapped out of it and got my ass out of bed. "TAKE 2" is now in the works. I went in for another ultrasound the other day and Nurse Kelly said everything looks great. I have a nice clean slate and we should be ready to try again next Tuesday. I also just started taking a hormone that stimulates ovulation and so far I haven't had any side effects. I am not behaving any crazier than usual anyway. I am hopeful that this works sooner rather than later for many reasons. One in particular is related to my travel schedule. As many of you know, I travel on the weekends and these next few months are especially busy. I am gone every weekend, in fact. So I am not sure if I will even be in town for the "right time". But I plan to deal with that when the time comes. Stay tuned for further musings. 

Although this is my very first blog post ever and this blog is meant to relay my journey into motherhood, this is not the beginning of my journey. The more traditional scenarios have come my way but for whatever reason the universe has seen fit to guide me in a different direction. No surprise there. As I begin writing, I am tempted to write my life story, a journey in itself unconventional, but instead I will start with an announcement; "Today I bought some sperm. YAY! Happy sperm day to me." Sperm donor #14511 aka Teacher of the Year is the lucky winner. Some of you have been privy to my intention to go at it alone for quite some time. And others are currently saying to themselves "Woah" or "You go girl!" and some are of course saying " I have a good sample for you. You just had to ask." Very funny. 

I have had a lot of support along the way, but no matter how much support I get from friends and family, I cannot help but think about how lonely this experience can be at times. The irony being that when all is said and done I will have another human being growing inside of me. So the goal of this blog is multi-faceted. First, I imagine that the process of writing about what has contributed to this decision and what will unfold next will be extremely cathartic. Second, I hope that by documenting my journey, the blog might act as a support tool for future Go At It Alone Girls like myself. And last, I think this will be a fun way to share my experiences with my friends and family a long the way.  

However, this is not going to be just a fluffy stuffed animal, cute little toes and smells like baby powder kind of blog. This is going to be a candid look at what it is really like to Go At It Alone. So, if you have a strong stomach then feel free to get on the roller coaster that has been and will be a seriously interesting ride.