“I made that,” I marveled, not for the first time, as I watched Jake at school this morning. He was banging two farm animal puzzle pieces together, making a loud clacking noise appreciated by no one but himself. His eyes were clear and as blue as his shirt, which hung over the top of his baggy little jeans, which collapsed on top of his miniature cool shoes. His smile was as big and pure as only a toddler’s smile can be. I was stunned by his beauty, unable to stand up and get on with my day.
Part of the reason Jake seems like a bit of a miracle to me is that he came so easily after so much anguish. I spent over a year having early miscarriages and being told by a well-regarded “specialist” that it was nothing more than a symptom of my age. Turns out when you trust your own sense of your body and see a doctor who actually — get this — listens to you you might be lucky enough to be diagnosed with a mild case of an easily treatable condition. One hysteroscopy later, I got pregnant. It was almost enough to forget how having difficulty conceiving infuses your entire life for the year, two years, five years you work at it.
Now I’m having the symptoms again, and even though I know I can be treated and I already have this crazy beautiful boy and one day we will have a crazy beautiful daughter from China, I can’t help wishing that having a child could, just once, be effortless.
Continue reading ‘When It Takes Effort to Experience Effortlessness’
