I am in the middle of writing a paper about the practical application of storytelling for literacy and learning, and I checked the calendar to see how many days I have before this assignment is due. That's when it dawned on me.
Today is year 3.
Three years ago, I decided that I wanted to wake up every June 23 in another country. I've organized my traveling around this date. The first year I wandered around Machu Picchu in Peru. Last year I spent the night on the beach celebrating with the people of Spain the longest day of the year. This year I woke in the Dominican Republic to my favorite smile in the world.
This has been the most challenging of my trips because I have not spent it alone. I'm not complaining about that fact. The last two weeks have been a flurry of Spanish and cuddling new kittens and hanging out with my new niece. It seems that no matter where we are in life, merging two lives carries its own learning curve.
He's been asking me a lot, "Mami, que te paso? Tu cara!" (Darling, what's the matter...your face [looks so sad].) I tend to carry a pensive look with me wherever I go. Often it's just that I am lost in thought. If I'm honest, though, I also have to admit that I've had some things on my mind.
The other morning I woke with this in my head...
I'm at that point in my life when I'm wondering what happened.
Had you asked me ten...fifteen...twenty years ago where I thought I would be today, the answer would have included something like "living my life as a wife and mother; signing permission slips; cleaning the house on Saturday; etc." No where did I imagine I would be divorced, living with my dogs, and still waiting for the magical day when I will see a plus sign on a pregnancy test.
I'm actually not complaining about any of this. These are just thoughts in my head. At 35, I have finally met the first man who actually wants to have children with me. At 35, I fear that I may not get the chance. I have no reason to think this just yet, but it's still in the back of my mind, especially as I look at friends and family who struggled to have (and sometimes not have) children.
There are no simple words for this, and I don't really want to hear them. Honestly, I have a lot of anger and frustration and jealousy raging within me. I have to just experience these emotions--this neural activity in my head.
It's just life as it is right now. Wondering. Waiting. Wishing.
So much has changed in the last three years. So much seems to be the same. I'm kind of hoping for a shooting star tonight.
Today is year 3.
Three years ago, I decided that I wanted to wake up every June 23 in another country. I've organized my traveling around this date. The first year I wandered around Machu Picchu in Peru. Last year I spent the night on the beach celebrating with the people of Spain the longest day of the year. This year I woke in the Dominican Republic to my favorite smile in the world.
This has been the most challenging of my trips because I have not spent it alone. I'm not complaining about that fact. The last two weeks have been a flurry of Spanish and cuddling new kittens and hanging out with my new niece. It seems that no matter where we are in life, merging two lives carries its own learning curve.
He's been asking me a lot, "Mami, que te paso? Tu cara!" (Darling, what's the matter...your face [looks so sad].) I tend to carry a pensive look with me wherever I go. Often it's just that I am lost in thought. If I'm honest, though, I also have to admit that I've had some things on my mind.
The other morning I woke with this in my head...
I'm at that point in my life when I'm wondering what happened.
Had you asked me ten...fifteen...twenty years ago where I thought I would be today, the answer would have included something like "living my life as a wife and mother; signing permission slips; cleaning the house on Saturday; etc." No where did I imagine I would be divorced, living with my dogs, and still waiting for the magical day when I will see a plus sign on a pregnancy test.
I'm actually not complaining about any of this. These are just thoughts in my head. At 35, I have finally met the first man who actually wants to have children with me. At 35, I fear that I may not get the chance. I have no reason to think this just yet, but it's still in the back of my mind, especially as I look at friends and family who struggled to have (and sometimes not have) children.
There are no simple words for this, and I don't really want to hear them. Honestly, I have a lot of anger and frustration and jealousy raging within me. I have to just experience these emotions--this neural activity in my head.
It's just life as it is right now. Wondering. Waiting. Wishing.
So much has changed in the last three years. So much seems to be the same. I'm kind of hoping for a shooting star tonight.
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