Such Great Heights

Disclaimer: This post is shorter than the last. You may be lost if you didn't read. You'll need to catch up a bit with Bad US Tech Off on Fridays. Maybe not, though. Either way, I hope you're well.

Such Great Heights

Written 05/18

Time is passing but I feel stuck. I remember waking up in Kauai one morning after dreaming I was still in the hospital. It had been over a month at that point. When I woke up I told Justin that I felt like I was still there and felt clichéd in saying so out loud. Like I was overdramatizing the situation, trying to make it feel like a movie or something, but the dream felt very real. I still kick myself for saying it. It just feels dumb. I feel dumb.

Still, Mother’s Day came and went. My mom’s birthday is on May 9th. She brags that she was born on 5/9/59 and plays these numbers in varying order for Powerball. Her favorite flowers are lilacs which are always in full bloom by her birthday, if not, then definitely by Mother’s Day. Every year for her birthday I would wake up early enough to go raid a neighbor’s lilac bushes to try not to get caught. I’d make sure they were waiting for her in a vase on the table before she came out of her room.

When Justin and I were looking into buying our current house a few years ago, we began the buying process in the beginning of May. We were in the period between making an offer and closing and I would drive up to the house after work because I was excited. I would sometimes walk the property by myself hoping the former owners or their realtor wouldn’t pull in. At the very edge of one of the flower beds, I smelled them before I saw them.

This year, the lilacs in my yard didn’t bloom in time for her birthday or Mother’s Day. Granted, the two dates were one day apart. Her birthday was on Saturday, and Mother’s Day was on Sunday. It was unnaturally cold this year. Growing up, she would tell the story that it had snowed once on her birthday and I was always a little skeptical of her recall…maybe she just saw dandelion dust and thought it was snow.

Justin and I went over to deliver her birthday present. We stopped at the store to pick up a gift and to wait outside in the social distancing lines before entering with our masks on. I was glad I wore my down winter jacket that Justin had gotten me for Christmas and felt bad that he only wore a light spring jacket. As always, he pretended he wasn’t cold.

We got her a new portable speaker so that she could listen to music outside, which likely wouldn’t happen today. She had mentioned that she wanted margaritas, her new favorite drink as of late. I picked up the mix and the limes. My sister, Lizzie, brought the tequila and the blender.

We just sat in the living room and talked, overly jazzed about seeing other humans for the first time in weeks. There were only six of us but it felt like a regular rager. We told stories about when we were kids and about my three older brothers doing weird hysterical things to family and neighbors. We drank the margaritas and laughed. My mom mentioned that she had spilled something on the couch she got after her mother died and at that moment the wind blew hard enough for both entryway doors to fly open and hit the walls. Lizzie’s boyfriend basically jumped out of his chair, his widened eyes looked like they were the only feature on his face. I laughed hard. I told him not to worry…it was just my mom’s mom yelling at her for spilling. We all laughed and remembered the things we missed. We looked out the window where my dad’s garden used to be. It began to snow. I believe her now. No dandelion dust.

After a bit, I was getting tired and all of a sudden felt kind of queasy. We said goodbye with no embrace and cleared out. On the way home, I mentioned to Justin that I felt kind of sick after drinking. We had taken the same back winding roads a few nights ago on the way out for ice cream. That night, it was a full moon and I told Justin that I’d never seen the moon so big. We got into an argument because he said he’d seen it bigger and there was just no way. I told him that you can’t get a good picture of the moon and he pulled over to prove me wrong. The full moon in May is called the flower moon. I looked it up and laughed while Justin tried to capture the vision we saw. We did not get a picture.

This moment made me think about one of the classes I took this past fall for my director certification. It was a STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) class and I chose to do a project focusing on the moon. The professor was going around taking down topics. Some people chose coding, different/newer mathematics processes, and I didn’t know by the time she got to me so I blurted out “the moon...and tides”. Her head did the sideways tilt with the “huh” expression on her face. She told me that she really liked this idea for a topic and went on to explain that it is a great way to provide a sense of constancy for kids who may not know what to expect from one day to the next.

I loved my topic. Little did she know that I had just had my first miscarriage and was looking to the sky for constancy myself.

The lilacs didn’t bloom but the flower moon was there.

The next day, after mom’s fiesta, I woke up and took another test. I have been continuing to test every day and although the lines were getting consistently lighter, they were still there. Bloodwork showed my levels were decreasing but were still in the 4-5 week pregnancy range. The following day I took another test and I thought the second line was slightly darker than the day before but not enough to mention it to anyone. The next day I tested again, and it either seemed a tiny bit darker or at least it was the same and not getting any lighter. I told Justin and Jess. They both confirmed that the lines appeared to be getting darker. I wasn’t crazy.

On Wednesdays, Jess and I have facetime meetings promptly at 5:00pm. Sometimes she will make her bellybutton talk for me but won’t get too many words out before laughing like Larry David reading Mean Tweets about Jimmy Kimmel (watch it on YouTube, it’s funny). We started to do themes for our Wednesday meetings like, Wear a Hat, Hide and Seek, or Dress Your Cat Up.

For the Wear a Hat call, my phone rang and I jolted up while yelling “I NEED A HAT”, because I had forgotten. I ran to grab Justin’s motorcycle helmet and answered the phone out of breath. Justin sat wondering what he married into from the other couch.

On the Dress Your Cat Up call, we discussed the darkening lines but I got scared and Jess sensed it. She asked if I didn’t want to talk about it. I did, though. I knew that I was getting excited and definitely should not. I was glad to have the time and space to discuss and process what could possibly be happening. We weren’t trying again-we didn’t think it was even possible to try. We had planned on waiting a few months for sanity purposes.

I had called my doctor that morning and told them everything and they scheduled me to come in for my bloodwork a day early. I told Jess that I’d be going in the next day and she asked that I call her with the results.

That night, I continued working and Justin randomly started a fire outside. He tapped on the sliding glass window and motioned for me to come outside with him. I mimed typing to indicate that I was working still, but saw his face and closed the laptop. I brought the speaker, put on a light jacket, and went outside. When I turned on my Pandora station, the title of the first song that came on is the name I’d choose if I were to have a baby girl. I smiled to myself and sat with Justin as the sun went behind the trees. We looked at the stars and I commented that you can’t get a picture of them, just like you can’t get one of the moon. He proved me wrong, though, and figured out a way with multiple exposures.

When we were about to go inside, Old Pine by Ben Howard played. I’ve been avoiding this song because it feels to me how redemption or vindication would feel after everything. It makes me feel free. It is the song I will listen to…cry to…if we do have a baby, no matter how.

“Free as the birds that fly. With weightless souls, now”.

Along with collecting quotes, I also collect songs that resonate with me. I have a full playlist. Some of the songs are happy and optimistic and others are not. Some of them, the full lyrics don’t apply to anything I might be going through, but one line or a particular melody strikes a chord in me and I just know the feeling very well. Some of them are hauntingly accurate. All of them, though, run through every space inside my heart and keep me present and grounded. Less like I could blow away in a light breeze. Like dandelion dust.

The next morning, I woke up and I wasn’t sure, but the line looked lighter now. I went in for the bloodwork and knew I would be waiting until the following day for the call to see if my levels were continuing to decrease or if maybe they were rising. The following morning, Justin and I went to grab breakfast and the phone rang in the car. I answered on speaker so he could hear. My levels had dropped from 79 to 42 since my last draw. They seemed to be falling. I hung up and didn’t know what to really feel. Overall, I kind of just felt stupid. Justin asked if I was ok. I was. It was good that they weren’t rising, right? I need to wait and to be walking steadily on level ground for a bit before running and jumping again.

We did some shopping and then went home to unload. We spent the rest of the day doing yard work because the weeds wait for no one; their presence encroaching on the lifelines of the flowers you wait so patiently for. I parked it in the dirt and played my Pandora station. I collected a few more songs. Justin began a yard project on the side of the house, buzzing about. I went over to see what he was doing and heard my phone ring. My phone was still connected to my speaker that was playing music by the flower garden. I didn’t get to it in time but it was my doctor. Her message let me know that she had reviewed my bloodwork and realized that she had never received the results from the genetic testing done on the tissue sample that was sent out after the D and C. After a second consecutive miscarriage, they like to see if they can determine if there is an underlying issue that could be responsible rather than just spontaneous abortion. If there was a reason, we could be better guided in subsequent decisions for trying to conceive or not.

We had been waiting for these results for over a month when I was told on the day of surgery that it would only take a few weeks. I didn’t call to push anything because I didn’t want to seem like the overbearing patient who demands answers. I assumed that Covid had delayed things, too. Then she began apologizing. “I’m so sorry, but the tissue sample was never sent out. It was processed incorrectly and now it’s too late to use for genetic testing.”. We won’t get any information, now, unless I miscarry again...and the sample is sent promptly and correctly.

I knew it wasn’t her fault, but I was mad. I threw my phone in the dirt. Justin came around to try to calm me down. I had yelled “what the fuck” and we were outside. A bit of a faux pas for a small rural/suburban town. But seriously…what the fuck?! How…better yet, why? What have I done? It had to be something. I’m paying a price. This is somehow my fault. I must have fucked up on some major level and these are the consequences, because...why?

Justin told me to go take a shower to try to relax and get dressed. He was going to take me for a ride in the woods up to a big cliff overlook so we could watch the sunset. I put on clothes and grabbed the bug spray. The persistent growling of the four-wheeler drowned out thought. We got to our spot and Justin teetered on the edge of the cliff in an unsettling way to try and elicit a smile. He extended a hand and I basically told him to get bent and we laughed. We crouched down to sit quietly as the hazy sun began to creep away behind the budding trees. Then Justin said, “They shouldn’t call it a fear of heights…it a fear of falling.” I started to cry. I had thought I was pregnant again and wasn’t and didn’t know how to feel because I was stupidly a little excited. But now, sitting on top of the cliff, I was relieved. I’m still very afraid of falling. And with the news of no genetic information, I realized we’re definitely still not on steady ground yet.

I also realized in that moment that, when driving a few weeks back and we passed the highest point in RI, Justin had told me that when I was feeling particularly low, he would take me to a higher place to try and make me feel better. He had probably forgotten this, but it definitely seeped into his subconscious because I had felt like shit...he drove me to a cliff overlook... and, well, it worked.

“They won’t see us waving from such great heights, “Come down now” they’ll say. But everything looks perfect from far away, “Come down now”. But we’ll stay”.

-Such Great Heights-The Postal Service

We left the woods and started another fire. We left the speaker inside and just sat quietly in the dark. It felt a little more somber than on Wednesday when I had thought the lines were darkening. One of my songs kept playing in my head, though. It’s called The Stable Song by Gregory Alan Isakov and there are a few lines that cut. One of which is, “And I ached for my heart like some Tin Man”. Although this is one of the sadder songs, it gives me a boost. Like when Dorothy pours a little oil onto his joints. It helps me to keep going and to not feel so stuck.

We kept gardening this weekend. I carefully watched out for the ground bees who have taken up residence in our lawn. Their mounds look like ant hills but with larger holes and you see them just hover around and burrow in. We have acidic soil, as our pest control guy told us, and we’ll need to treat it with top soil to stop them from taking over. We’re having a hard time thinking about taking from them, though. We’re going to wait to treat the grass until next year, before the bees arrive.

I pulled on a rather large weed while gardening, and saw one of the mounds collapse in. I felt immediate remorse and aching for the bee who returned within a minute or two and just hovered around; not knowing where to go or what to do. I scared myself with a thought because part of me wanted to step on him so that I wouldn’t have to watch him hurt. I shook the feeling away. I didn’t mean it. I surrendered to the truth of natural order and just hoped the bee would be ok and find his place somewhere.

I never understood why my dad would always be in the garden when we were growing up. Now I think I get it. Just listening, watching, learning, thinking, and being; all the while contributing to something. At least trying to. I plan to share more about my dad in future posts. When sitting on my mom’s couch (her mom’s, actually), watching it snow just a week before, I thought of him while looking out the window where his garden used to be.

I’ll keep oiling my joints and keep tending. If you need me this summer, that’s where you’ll find me; listening to my songs. And if I’m not there, Justin probably drove us somewhere up high to make me feel better. Or, maybe I took him. Anywhere I am, though, I am here if you need someone to listen.

Here are some songs that I love. Maybe you’ll find some that will run through and help you to keep one foot in front of the other.

Playlist:

Such Great Heights- The Postal Service (*Another version I love: Iron and Wine)

Dearly Departed (feat. Esme Patterson)-Shakey Graves

Gone-The Head and the Heart

When My Time Comes-Dawes

Lost in the Light-Bahamas

When the Party’s Over-Billie Eilish

Changes-Langhorne Slim & The Law

Words Underlined-Jesse Marchant

Unknown Legend-Shovels and Rope & Shakey Graves (*Original: Neil Young)

River- Leon Bridges

Birmingham-Shovels and Rope

3 a.m. Gregory Alan Isacov

That Moon Song- Gregory Alan Isakov

For No One- Houndmouth

Through the Dark- Alexi Murdoch

Big Black Car-Gregory Alan Isakov

Honeybee- The Head and the Heart

3 Rounds and a Sound (Live)-Blind Pilot

The Stable Song-Gregory Alan Isakov

Call It Dreaming-Iron and Wine

Old Pine-Ben Howard

People Need a Melody-The Head and the Heart