First, I'll get the bad out of the way: the bills are coming in and they're fucking depressing. Transfer, beta, beta, beta, ultrasound (pregnant uterus), beta, the end. I would prefer just to forget about the whole thing, you know? Pretend it never happened? But people deserve to get paid, and so they shall.
On the happier side: this weekend I took Small Boy to his soccer lesson. Then we went on a walk through the woods in the crisp fall day, all oranges and yellow and reds and crunchy leaves and good smells. We turned out of the woods and found ourselves at the zoo, where we happen to have a membership and I happened to have the membership card on me. So we went to the zoo. And we dawdled and wandered and looked at lots of animals and somewhere in there I started humming a song. Pop lyrics are the bardic poetry of my generation and it's how my subconscious communicates with me. OnceI was on an elevator and started humming "Miss Otis Regrets" and only noticed on the way out that the elevator was made by a company named Otis. Anyway.
The song lyrics I was humming turned out to be
one life
is all we ever get
and all we ever give up for it in return
is all of
the ones that might have been
just one kind of beautiful, each in our turn...
I walked, and thought about it. One kind of beautiful is what I get. This life is one kind of beautiful. It's sleeping in and spontaneous zoo trips and money and time and just a very relaxed, civilized way of living. Since we have him outnumbered, when one of us is out of patience it's very easy to say "here, you deal with it." I wouldn't have that luxury if there were two. We never have to operate at the edge of our ability to cope. It's just all very comfortable and peaceful.
Would I trade for the infinite richness of a larger family? Hell yeahs. There's no question. The material and lifestyle advantages are all things I would throw away in a minute, if I could. I mean, for the past two years I've been attempting with both hands to throw them away.
But if it turns out that I can't -- this is one kind of beautiful.
If I can hold onto this feeling, I'll be fine. I know these things tend to be a spiral, passing the same point again and again on a different plane. I know I'll be back to desperate sadness, jealousy, anger, grief. But with any luck this is one of the places in the spiral and I'll see it again, the place of feeling peaceful and grateful and wistful, not angry and grieved. And now I know that this place exists, that there is a world in which I never have another child and I am okay.
