waiting for daisy and connecting the dots

I've just finished reading Peggy Orenstein's superb book, waiting for daisy, and loved it. Her ability to present her story succinctly and yet replete with emotion is very impressive. I was also impressed at her unwavering examination of her own moods, feelings and trains of thought--she does not seem to hold back regardless of whether an anecdote presents her in a favorable or an unflattering light.

As I started the book, I was struck by Ms. Orenstein's ambivalence towards motherhood, if only because it seemed to stand in such sharp contrast to my own stated desires to have children--three someday, if I could. In fact, although I don't ever remember playing with dolls and pretending I was a mommy (instead I usually pretended I was either a glamorous star or a school-teacher), I DO remember being first turned on to the joys of watching a baby change and grow with the birth of my brother shortly before I was 11 years old.

And even though there were sacrifices made in helping take care of my youngest sibling (the missed school-dances, the missed sleep-overs and the worst--the missed Prince concert), they weren't enough to stop me from slowly reaching the conclusions as I turned 16 that I wanted one day to become a mother, and (ironically) that I wanted to become one while I was very young--just like my own mom.

Well, needless to say, my mother was having NONE OF THAT! She said it was paramount to finish college, get a graduate degree, and have a stable career and/or lots of money in the bank, before going on to marriage and parenthood. Somehow I worked out that waiting for a little bit would be a good thing, and might help secure the dream of having it all--a great husband, an awesome job, and happy children.

So in my mind, my compromise was having a family when I was 28 or 29, instead of 22 or 23. Little did I realize that I would be off by nearly a decade in simply getting to point of starting one. Still, it was with surprise, at the age of 35, that I struggled to answer my then-boyfriend's question of why I hadn't already had children by then, given that I wanted them so much; my answer then, as it would be now, was that I wasn't willing to have kids with just ANYBODY--if it was all to go according to plan, then I had to meet the RIGHT person first. What I hadn't realized until that enlightening conversation was that my master plan had an order to it--and that I, for one, was not going to deviate from that order.

Thankfully, the inquisitive boyfriend did indeed go on to become my husband, thus opening the door for me to pursue motherhood according to the theoretical scenario I had constructed. But even then, it would take me a couple of years to sort out that the master plan did not and still does not consist of straight lines; so now the strategy is to have fun and relax, instead of madly running around and trying to connect the dots.

But I guess at the end of it all, and I don't know why, but I seem to have this (naive?) faith that ultimately, I WILL connect those dots and complete the picture one way or another.... Peggy Orenstein's journey only seemed to approach it's final destination once she accepted question-marks in her life, so perhaps I should as well?

Nah--then it would be the same journey instead of one made by two completely different people--no matter the similarities... I think I'll stick to my vision of the picture, although it sure was nice to look at someone else's version for the last couple of days :))

Release and Receive

I recently found this quote on a website for an acupuncture office in Berkeley, CA ( http://wuwei-acupuncture.com/serv.html ). It just seems so appropos to how I'm trying to see things these days:


In the quest for knowledge, one acquires something every day.
In the path towards wisdom, one loses something every day.
One loses and loses until there is nothing left to do.
In doing nothing, nothing is left undone.

The world is won by those who have learned to let go,
It is only when we try and try, push and grasp
that the world is then beyond our reach.

--Tao Te Ching


We just watched "Memoirs of a Geisha" for the second time last night and I loved the scene near the end of the movie where Sayuri is standing on top of a cliff overlooking the ocean and throws the Chairman's handkerchief to the wind as a symbol of her letting go. The next scenes of course then lead up to her reuniting with her beloved Chairman, and having her dream to be with him finally come true.

Life on M².A.R.S.

So I've been playing with this all morning and came up with the following: Metaphysical and Material Angst Rationalization System. Basically I'm addressing the fact that I can make a molehill into a mountain quite easily, and then will do my best to at least ATTEMPT to see that mountain as a molehill again, although I certainly don't guarantee it.

To give a little bit of background: I am an expatriate woman, currently not working and currently trying to start a family with my husband of two and a half years.

I have also recently turned 40, so the pressure is on to get pregnant quickly--that is from an allopathic medical point of view; fortunately, neither my family nor my husband's family have been pushy on that front, and my husband has been very supportive.

So I try to keep the world out--save those who think like myself (what a tyrant!) and focus on what I think I need to do; I thought here I might share where this journey to start a family has taken me so far, and conjecture about where I'm going next.

And in case anyone is wondering: the blog title was inspired by the BBC television show, which in turn was partly inspired by the David Bowie song Life on Mars?

It certainly feels like I'm in a different world now compared to my life "before"--before quitting work, before getting married and BEFORE trying to start a family.

A good friend of mine who is a homeopathic practitioner and who has been working with me in a professional capacity for the last couple of years, keeps reminding me that the answers I seek "are all inside of you!".

I most definitely had trouble believing that statement when I first started this voyage of self-discovery in February 2005; but now, in recognizing that I am indeed on a quest to find and define myself (and not just have children), I find it somewhat easier and certainly comforting to contemplate what IS inside.

My roomate from college has encouraged me to write about my experiences, and my husband has been doing so for ages. Given the sheer number of blogs out there addressing individual fertility journeys, I find it intimidating to write about my own experiences--why, I won't be witty enough, or eloquent enough to sustain anyone's attention!

But I guess that's not the point...well, I guess we shall see how this all pans out. In the meantime, I welcome you to join me in my life on Mars and as I try to figure out all the answers to my many, many questions.