this week last year

m and s
photo by Laurie

I was wondering last night what was on my mind a year ago, and serendipitously came across this letter to the boys I wrote a year ago today. It reflects thoughts I still have about my sons, about my life. In the past couple of months, I have thought a lot about my long journey of healing from childhood trauma, beginnings of marriage, the drive to become a mother, and the dissolution of marriage (etc etc)... and how amazing it is that now I can have moments of wonder and peace about my long years of separation, search and longing for the thing I desired most.

I am reminded of this Sufi tale, recorded in the little book The Seven Valleys and The Four Valleys. It is about the importance of the act of the search for our heart's desire, and while in this context it is finding God, my heart's desire was always to be a mother. I think my children are key to my own spiritual journey in life, and they have always been in that timeless way of the soul.

The Valley of Search

The steed of this Valley is patience; without patience the wayfarer on this journey will reach nowhere and attain no goal. Nor should he ever be downhearted; if he strive for a hundred thousand years and yet fail to behold the beauty of the Friend, he should not falter.... No bond shall hold them back, and no counsel shall deter them.

It is incumbent on these servants that they cleanse the heart—which is the wellspring of divine treasures—from every marking, and that they turn away from imitation, which is following the traces of their forefathers and sires, and shut the door of friendliness and enmity upon all the people of the earth.

One must judge of search by the standard of the Majnún of Love. It is related that one day they came upon Majnún sifting the dust, and his tears flowing down. They said, "What doest thou?" He said, "I seek for Laylí." They cried, "Alas for thee! Laylí is of pure spirit, and thou seekest her in the dust!" He said, "I seek her everywhere; haply somewhere I shall find her."

Yea, although to the wise it be shameful to seek the Lord of Lords in the dust, yet this betokeneth intense ardor in searching. "Whoso seeketh out a thing with zeal shall find it."

we get by with a little help

My experience of infertility over the course of 15 years and two marriages is no secret. I started posting on mothering.com/discussions in the ttc (trying to conceive) forums way back in early 2004, and found there a community of amazing women seeking to fulfill their dreams of family. Many of them ended up falling into the range of "normal" - conceiving within a year of beginning to try. Many others ended up taking paths that required a great deal of sacrifice, laying their bodies and finances and emotions on the line for months and years on end. Most of us have ended up with at least one child, while some found that they began to resonate more with life without children or simply had to move on from the very draining process of long-term ttc.

The best part of the story of those days of connecting with the "mdc" mamas is that it resulted in some tremendous friendships. Some people have found these incredible connections through the blogging world, and certainly it was because of my participation there that I began blogging back in 2004. Five years later, the core group of women who found ourselves supporting, celebrating, grieving and waiting with each other is still connected. I see comments here from several old friends that I don't otherwise connect with, I get to follow the blogs of some others, and a handful of these special friends remain people I consider the inner circle of the people in my life. I find constant amazement in the fact that in this online world that would at first pass seem rather annonymous, I have gained some of the best friends of my life.

One of these friends is mentioned here often. I connected with Korin at the very end of her IVF cycle back in those early days on mdc. She became mercifully pregnant with a child who has added sparkle and wonder to our lives for the past three years. Ruby is as much an older sister the boys will likely ever have, and they adore her.

Korin and Ruby

As you know, Korin is the friend who, when I said I was considering leaving my marriage and pursuing getting pregnant on my own said: "Do it. Move out here to Oregon, stay with me and my family, and live the life you are longing for." She is the kind of person who does this, who makes tremendous sacrifice and gives wholly of herself for her friends, on a regular basis. She, Ryan, and Ruby not only shared their home with me while I was pregnant, they sheltered me and my twins for months after their birth, opening a space for us to become a family. The ways and extent of her support is truly indescribable.

Korin, me, and Laurie, in the moments before my c-section.
Korin was the person who sat by my head for the entire surgery, coaching me, crying with me, and sharing the moment of my children's births along with my sister.

Korin doing kangaroo care in the NICU with Shoghi.

Korin and Ryan have been trying for another child for about six months. You can read about that journey on Korin's blog here. Right now the important point is that they are at a point where they have had to decide to do another fresh IVF cycle, a costly, invasive, emotionally and physically intense series of procedures that we all pray will result in another child (or two!). I am happy and humbled to say that another online friend has started a fundraiser, with the hopes of raising the majority of the money this amazing couple will need to pursue adding another child to their family.

If you are a knitter, or need a fabulous gift for a knitter friend, please consider joining us in supporting Korin and her family. Lousli is conducting a raffle with fabulous prizes, including several sets of my sister Laurie's knit kitty hand-printed cards. Lousli's etsy shop is also donating all profits this month to the cause.

hand-dyed yarn from Lesley's shop

knit kitty cards

The greatest good of this blogging community is our ability to make connections and support each other in an increasingly fast and disconnected world. I hope you'll help me pay it forward and join in. Just think, you could be a part of creation, part of the fulfillment of a dream. Every time that future baby smiles, you will have been a part of a sacred moment.

for all the years without you

Dear Shoghi and Maxwell,

The house is quiet; everyone has gone to bed. You are both sleeping peacefully, beautifully, gracefully in your beds. Your sweet hands moved, Shoghi, when I bent to cover you with your blanket, one I bought about a year before you were conceived. Maxwell, you lay there quietly when I just now spread the blue blanket I crocheted with my longing hands some four years before you were born. You are going to be ten months old this week - it's so close to a year ago that you were born into my hands and my life. I can barely contain the love I feel for you; you are both so perfect and miraculous.

I believe that there is a spiritual essence to our relationship - you my sons, I your mother. There is a place within us that connects and communicates with meaning deeper than words. I believe that, in some way, you know what paths I have traversed, what sacrifices I have offered up, what difficult and profound growth I had to achieve in order to become your mother.

For fifteen long years I tried to bring you to life. I sought you out first in the rose gardens, and then in the depths of the cold oceans - I even searched through the deserts of the world, just to catch a glimpse of your beauty and life. Sometimes I thought I had reached you, only to discover that it was just an illusion, a cruel hoax, and I was devastated by loss. Finally, in the end, I gave everything up. I opened my clenched fists, and let everything go. And it was there, in that place of detachment from all the places I had been searching, that I found you - within myself, in the deepest heart of my heart. I found you in joy.

When I am with you now, I delight in your curiosity, I soar on the waves of your laughter, I rejoice in your discoveries. Over these months that you have taken on your physical lives, I have bent and bowed to your needs with love, as mothers do, and I have healed for it.

Maxwell. Shoghi. My sons. Now I know. I know why those years were filled with such terrible longing and sorrow and search - it was the loss of being with you. You were known to my heart before you were known to my arms and eyes. You are the fruits of my joy and my heart and everything that is good and pure about who I am - you are the embodiment and the breath of life and love.

For every difficulty we face, know that the distances I traveled on my journey to our reunion were far greater. I have found that place within myself, that place of creation. We emerged from that place as a family. To say that I love you is but the most pitiful attempt to capture the glory of the sun in a drop of water.

I am, and with deep gratitude ever will remain, your mother.