The Knot

While I've always loved Twelfth Night's Viola, one of her best-known monologues was destroyed for me years ago when virtually every girl was using it for any Shakespeare audition. The famous rhyming couplet that ends the speech is this:

O time! Thou must untangle this, not I;

It is too hard a knot for me to untie!

What resonance those words have for me today, and what a shock that they will be my own when I start rehearsals for Viola early next week. But, to understand why I needed such untangling, you must first understand the knot.

When we had our second miscarriage in December, my world didn't fall apart as I expected it to. I was sad, but this was something we'd been through before. I had no expectations that my cycle would return quickly or that we'd even have the emotional, financial, or mental stamina to dive back into medicated treatment cycles. Once we learned that the next step of the process would be extensive bloodwork (called an "RPL"--or Recurrent Pregnancy Loss--panel), it was almost as if the timeline was out of my hands. And so I stopped counting how many weeks it had been since the D&C or what month might be a possible new due date.

Over the next month or so, I stopped posting on my online support board as regularly as I used to, not because I don't love the amazing women there, but simply because getting pregnant wasn't able to be the thing I focused on the most. I continued to "mentor" two women--one a colleague and one a friend from church--as they went through infertility testing, treatments, and disappointments, but talking to them no longer felt competitive, like I had to get pregnant before them. Slowly I realized that I wasn't trying to make myself focus on things other than starting a family, I just was.

After many consultations with my amazing doctor, my patient therapist, and my ever-supportive husband, I came to a realization: the only reason I felt frantic about getting pregnant as soon as possible was because of my age. Once my doctor took that off the table (the fact that I turn 36 in May is not medically related--at least in any way we can tell--to our difficulty getting pregnant or sustaining pregnancy), a weight came off my shoulders. And then I began to think: what are all the things Jeff and I haven't done in the last year because our lives have been centered around testing and treatments?

Realization 1: We moved into our house over a year ago, yet we haven't bought a single piece of furniture for the inside of it (we did buy a beautiful set for our deck for long summer evenings with friends). We were blessed, several years ago, with incredible family furniture through a few different sources, so we haven't needed anything, but this isn't about need. So, we perked up our kitchen last weekend by buying a cute little bench for our bay window and a much-needed spice rack for the wall.

Apparently, Guillie believes the bench was made for her comfort while we cook.
The first time our friends sit on it, it will be a rude awakening!

Our beautiful new spice rack--there's now a whole kitchen cupboard free!

Realization 2: Jeff is doing amazing things at work, and I want to support and encourage him as much as I can. His latest endeavor is a hybrid improv comedy / open mic night with a group of high school students that he helps direct at work. Their opening night is Thursday, February 14, and I can't imagine a more romantic Valentine's than seeing my talented husband doing what he loves.

"Code 20" is a nod to "Radio Channel 1020":
NYFD fire code referring to "Proceed to Fire." This will be exciting stuff!

Realization 3: I haven't done community theatre in four years, and I miss being on stage. To try to rehearse a show and develop a character while doing monitoring appointments, needing nightly shots, and scheduling last-minute IUIs would be nearly impossible; however, with those conflicts off the table, I decided to head into the world of auditions again. I found three of particular interest: Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and Neil Simon's Rumors. Having not auditioned in so long, my expectations were low but my standards were high: if I wasn't offered Viola or Olivia (Twelfth Night), Benvolio or Lady Capulet (Romeo and Juliet), or Chris or Cassie (Rumors), I wasn't interested. Much to my delight, I received callbacks for the first two auditions I attended (the Shakespeare plays). And then, yesterday afternoon, much to my shock, I was offered both Viola and Benvolio. After hours of deliberations and many talks with good friends, I decided that--in spite of the long commute to rehearsals--there was no way I could turn down the dream of Viola, especially when it's with an exclusively classical-with-an-edge community theatre that's well known in the DC-metro area.

Our Twelfth Night theme: set in the 1980s, Orsino and Olivia are in dueling bands.

And so, I think, I've finally untied the knot. Until Twelfth Night opens in early May, I'll be completely engaged in that process. It doesn't mean that Jeff and I don't still long to be parents, but it means that we're working on our own loves for a little while--both individually and together--so that we can pass on the importance of pursuing our passions to our own family one day.

Viola's right: untangling the knot just took a little time.

To my dear friends reading this who haven't heard from me in a bit: I'm clearly still here! :-) Email anytime and know that all my love and support is still coming to each of you.