Today is Sinterklaas. My mother was Dutch. I miss her. In her honour, I am going to celebrate Sinterklaas today. Happy Sinterklaas to all of you, especially you mamas-in-the-making. We all deserve to ignite the spark of the wee one in us who would be thrilled to see Sinterklaas ride down a cobbled street in his red cape and miter and receive yummy marzipan and a chocolate letter for the first one in her (or his) name. The child in me, our toddler, and our little spirit baby for whom we so desperately long are all going to celebrate Sinterklaas tonight. Only one of us is getting a Big Hugs Elmo, but we will all get chocolate letters. The LP, too. Our own little private celebration. I could use a little party and cheer, how about you?
As I while away the weeks waiting to start stabbing myself with ovarion suppressants and gonadotropins, I have been indulging in a variety of complementary therapies, particularly traditional chinese medicine (TCM) – including acupuncture (no acronym – yay!) – and emotional freedom technique (EFT). I’ve also been trying to communicate with my anxieties and the spirit baby whom I pray, hope, plead with the Universe we are meant to bring home one day. Along the way, I blog.
Blogging about the EFT and TCM is easy. I expect that blogging about jabbing myself in the gut will be pretty easy, too. But writing about the dialogues I have opened up with my fears and, even more so, our spirit babies, is anything but easy. It is scary, unsettling and just plain hard. But I promised I would keep trying, so here goes.
I have felt the presence of our spirit baby at various points this week. Our communications, however, have become more complicated and I frankly feel a little lost to interpet some of the messages I’ve been getting. I was waiting to write this post in case I figured some of this out in the meantime. No luck. You get to share my spirit baby’s enigmatic manifestos.
This week started with some weird dreams. Giant hares. Chasing llamas. A giant hare chasing a llama who, when I got out my phone to film them (because who would believe me without proof I really saw this?) turned into a tiger. For anyone else who has already lost the plot, the hare, not the llama, became the tiger.
I had that dream twice. The tiger chased large game and killed it in round one. Round two, the tiger negotiated with its prey, saying it would only consume as much as it needed to survive and let the animals live. Did that happen? No. But the animals were less terrified as they died.
What does this mean, you ask? Good question. I wish I knew. It is an enigma, but from some reading I’ve done (thank you, Professor Google), tigers in your dreams mean power and control (or loss thereof). I wasn’t being eaten, so I am not endangered. But I wasn’t the tiger, either (as far as I could tell), so I am not the omnipotent feline some might think I am.
I do not know what this dream means, but I know it is important. I have a feeling I cannot explain that tells me it was a message. The recurring tiger dream feels somehow connected to our quest for a child. At the moment, it remains an enigma. Feel free to offer your thoughts. I am sure that when the right answer shows itself, it will ring true and I will know what this all means. For now, not so much.
Next, the colour (color) blue. As part of a meditation in which I deliberately tried to reach out to our spirit baby recently, I was flooded with wave after wave of blue. A bold, sky blue. And a little bit of purple – a warm violet – but the predominant message I got was blue. Heaps of blue. Say what, Spirit Baby?
Professor Google told me that:
- blue is associated with the throat chakra and brings out inner truths;
- blue can tranquilize us into calmer levels of being;
- blue’s mantra is “I am expansive” (a sales pitch for those Deepak Chopra and Oprah Winfrey meditations I just finished!);
- blue enhances psychic ability, helps with dream interpretation (not so far in my case) and stimulates intuition; and
- blue can indicate our willingness to see solutions in everything.
Professor Google also said that violet can be an expression of childlike love or divine, unconditional love.
That all sounds pretty good, right?
The final instalment involves my latest acupuncture treatment. As I lay there with needles in me, lights dimmed, some new age muzak playing in the background, I was certain that Spirit Baby was with me. I tried to quiet my mind, hoping some of the recent messages would become more clear to me. Instead, I saw the little boy from the novel, The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, made into the Martin Scorsese film, Hugo.
My first thought was that our little spirit baby is worried about being an orphan. Okay, so I’m old as far as women wanting to have babies of their own making go, but I’m not that old. And the LP is older than me, but he’s likely to be around for quite a while yet. That didn’t seem to fit, but the idea of being orphaned made me think again.
The spirit baby was orphaned before? And if so, is he or she afraid of being orphaned again, literally or metaphorically? This thought intrigued me. What if all of the residual fear I carry in my heart from our prior pregnancy losses is creating an energy block between me and our spirit baby? Could that make the baby’s spirit fear that I will not be emotionally present for him or her because I will always be afraid of loss?
This has happened to me during some pregnancies that were preceded by loss. I had a hard time connecting and feeling confident because I was so afraid (so sure) something would go wrong. And something has gone wrong. All but once (and even in that one healthy pregnancy, something went awry, but in that case the problem was remedied by Western medicine, so of no ultimate consequence).
There is something to this idea of being orphaned, conceptually or otherwise. Even this, however, is not the complete answer. Too many pieces of the puzzle do not have a place. There are gaping holes in the big picture. For example, how does the negotiating tiger fit into all of this? How and where does the colour blue fit in?
All of this to say that our spirit baby appears to be something of an enigma. And apparently I am a bit thick. Or perhaps a novice at this transcendental-type stuff. That part is clear!
I am taking this as a challenge. A puzzle is a perfect way to pass time while I wait for that baseline ultrasound, the gatekeeper to jabbing myself with all those not-so-recreational drugs. Thank you, spirit baby. I hope you keep challenging me to open my eyes, ears, mind and heart. We have a whole lifetime to learn from each other yet. I hope.
As for the rest of you, wish us luck as we waltz a little closer to our IVF adventure. Please.