Elan and I are going to San Diego tomorrow. We will be there for 10 days with my parents and sister, and then we are going to Colorado where Mikhail and my sister's husband Jason will come meet us for a whole-family vacation. I am looking forward to getting away, to getting out of the city and being at the ocean, a place I find soul-filling and restful, and then in the gorgeous mountains. I think of nature as healing, and I had been thinking of this trip as a way for me to begin to heal from this physically draining and emotionally difficult time.
I wish that clot weren't there. I wish I were done with all this miscarrying stuff and could move on to the healing part. I feel like as long as there is uncertainty, as long as I'm analyzing every twinge and cramp, waiting and wondering what's going to happen next, it's going to be hard to feel like I'm healing. I'm still so in it. Healing seems like something that happens once it's over, at least physically. And what I learned today is that it's not, yet.
This is a time of revising my expectations. I am constantly in the process of remembering and being surprised, being sad or shocked or angry. Every plan for the future is in revision. Life has been revealed as the rough draft that we all always know it is but mainly choose to ignore so that we can go on making plans. Now it's time for me to wrap my head around yet another shift in expectations, and go on. For now, it's to finish packing a suitcase full of clothes that I'm not sure will fit. And tomorrow, on a plane headed to the beach.