Panorama of San Bernardino

Friday, May 18, 2012

Hit Me Baby One More Time

I had a miscarriage once.  Probably about sixteen years ago, I was working at a steakhouse and went into the bathroom.  After I went to the restroom, I saw a red blob in the toilet.  My jeans were soaked through with blood.

The week before the incident, Adrian's mother (who more than a decade later would become my mother-in-law) had a premonition and told Adrian that I was pregnant.  We laughed it off.  We were always careful, super careful.

Did God punish me?  Did he think in his infinite wisdom that I would be a horrible mom or that my childhood was maybe too rough?  Or maybe it had left me too scarred and doomed to repeat my parent's mistakes.

Maybe God saw me for who I was at the time and knew I wasn't ready.  An over drinker, immature and unappreciative of Adrian.  Someone not appreciative of life.

I think of that blob and wonder who it would have been.  Would he or she have had my curly frizzy hair and Adrian's soft brown eyes?

Adrian and I have been trying to get pregnant for over two years and it is almost too late.  I know it is almost too late for me.   After all, I am forty. 

I have been praying for a miracle.  Sara in the Bible got pregnant at ninety so the precedent is there.  The probablity is not so clear.

The thing is, once you want a baby, and yearn for a baby like you once yearned for a nice boyfriend, babies are everywhere.  I was never the little girl who played with dolls or wished to be a mom. 

That has changed.

A couple of weekends ago, I went to the Crystal Cave, a new age shop in Claremont.  Crystal Cave is one of those places with lots of crystals, incense and books about chakras.  The shop is owned by a wiccan (aka a white witch).

I usually don't mess with magic, not because I don't believe in it but because I do.  But this time, out of sheer desperation, I made an exception and had the owner make me a special candle.  She put some oil and a moonstone in a long candle the color of cotton candy.  She said a short chant as she handed the pink candle to me with a slight, knowing smile and said,

"Light it at eight p.m. but not after eight-thirty.  Tonight is the super moon."

As I lit the candle that evening, I tried to will it into being.  Will a being into being.

I tell myself that if it doesn't happen, I will be ok. 

I have to be ok.

1 comment:

  1. I enjoy ready your blogs. Feels like I'm somewhat in touch with people I used to know. Good to know I'm not the only one with ups and downs. Keep it up. Tell Tracy happy birthday from me. Crazy Geminis!