Beating Statistics

When I start thinking about statistics I'm led to one person: my father. And one of the best legacies my dad left me was his belief in beating statistics. He died from an accident at age 75, but he had lived those many years with a rare life-threatening genetic heart condition that could have killed him at any time long before.

My dad was all about beating the odds; overcoming the statistics regarding his health issue, and on his terms. How? He was pro-active. He was a problem-solver. A researcher. A competitor. And a creative, out-side the box thinker. And he did the things he needed to do: healthy living, nutrient-rich foods, vitamin supplements, exercise, visualization, meditation, positive thinking, living in the moment, being optimistic and joy-filled, goal-oriented and hard-working, and (probably what I most need to learn) once having done all of those things that were under his control, letting go of the outcome.

So, now, from my father's example, what I never try to do is automatically assume the improbability of getting pregnant after age 44 no matter what the statistics tell me, but rather I think of how can I make it most probable that I can get pregnant for as long after 45 as possible. Within all those statistics of failure you have to notice there is a small percentage of success. Who are those people? How did they get into that statistically small group? That's the only statistics I concentrate on. And I do that by following in my father's footsteps, by his pro-active example.

Letting go of the outcome is, like I said, where I really have my struggle. I'm constantly thinking about what I want: finding a husband and being able to get pregnant at my age and have healthy babies. I'm tired of it. But I didn't know how to stop myself from clinging to my dream rather than dreaming it and releasing it. I know my dream needs its FREEDOM! It needs to be let go.

I started saying, "let go, and let God," every time a thought came in my head about what I lacked; all those little moments of doubt that flew around my head like a fly needing to be swatted away. But it didn't work. The flies kept buzzing overhead. Then I thought of something that might be better; what I considered a more productive and ultimately, more fulfilling way for me to feel good letting go. I'm "offering it up."

You see, there are two people, one is my sister's best friend, L. who may be dying of breast cancer. She is deep in the battle. Her sword is drawn, but can she muster the energy (she already has the courage) to pierce the heart of her enemy before he kills her? The other person is a seventeen year old boy S., that same sister's son, who is struggling with life now - that place where you go from making A's and B's to D's and F's and the things that mattered - don't.

Those two, L. and S., need to be lifted up in prayer. My small way of doing that is to "offer up" to their benefit, whatever feelings of hurt, heartache, fear or longings regarding "my dreams" rise to the surface.

So, now, every time I find myself trying to cling to those "let go" moments, I say L. and S.'s names knowing that my dreams are now attached to theirs.

Statistical Thinking

I personally know of three woman who have had babies at ages 44 and 45. Which, even though I'm older than that, at 46, still gives me a good feeling about what I'm dreaming into my life (two girls I went to high school with had babies at 42, but that's so young I don't even count them as being significant to my idea of what it means to beat "the odds").

First, my very own doctor got pregnant at 44 and had her baby at 45. She is now 48 with a rambunctious three year old boy and three daughter's - middle school through high school. She told me she just wanted one more child very badly and had had several miscarriages before she actually got pregnant with him, but it was all natural. So, when I initially brought up my dream of having a baby of my own (at that time I was 45) she couldn't have been more supportive.

The other mom gave birth to her son at 44 and he is one of my best, guy friends from high school. His mom is now 90. That does seem old, but she's doing fine.

And just the other night my niece was back in town and had brought a friend home with her. Before I had met the friend I had already heard that she came from a family of eleven children, ages 28 to six. After finally getting introduced to her, I subtly asked how old her mother was when she had her youngest sister and she told me that she was 44.

But just about everything I've read in researching pregnancy later in life had already made me believe that there are many woman that are able to get pregnant up to age 44, having the baby by age 45. It's after age 44 where things seem to go statistically downhill in having a successful pregnancy.

But when I find blogs like this one and this one it just makes me feel like, well, that's two people older than me and pregnant. And then the question that comes to my mind is: for every women over 46 and pregnant writing a blog about their experience (which I find fascinating and blessedly hopeful) how many are out there pregnant and not writing a blog?

Celebration Time

Okay, the celebration is just for my period! But each month when it comes I feel so joyful and hopeful. I'm still in the game! And I thank God for blessing me with that sign of my continued fertility.

And yet, I do remember in my twenties when I cursed getting my period. What an annoyance it was! I had a lot of, this-is-not-the-right-time-for-you-to-come periods! But I was lucky in that it was rare for me to ever have cramps or pain. Truthfully, I never seemed to have any detectable symptoms; no knowledge of when it was coming. It just shockingly arrived.

I remember I had my first period on my 16th birthday! My mom was out of town and had never had the "talk" with me anyway. My older sisters were off at college and also had never included me in that kind of conversation. I was all alone, and naive as it seems now, I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I just remember thankfully finding an old box of my sister's tampons with a few still in there. I read the directions on the back of that box over and over and over. I probably spent a half and hour figuring it out and mustering the courage to put that thing in there! Ha, ha, ha, so funny now... time flies...

Now, at the age of 46, having my periods come each month is beautiful, amazing and awe-inspiring! And all the courage I have to muster presently, is faith that they'll continue until I've reached my dream of having a baby of my own. We shall see. The story continues...

Intent on Intentions

About three months ago I decided that I would like to do a new moon ritual to kind of jump-start my dreams. I am open to just about anything and believe that energy is the force that moves miracles to manifestation. In the article it emphasizes the idea of dreaming big so I did. I made three big statements:

1) My intention is to be in an intimate, committed relationship with a guy that I am deeply in love with and who is deeply in love with me within three months, and to be married to each other within the next six months.

2) My intention is to get pregnant with my own eggs within the next year and have a healthy baby or babies, and for me to have a healthy and safe pregnancy.

3) My intention is that my fertility be so good, vital, viable, and healthy that I am able to have a healthy, happy pregnancy for the next six years.

Like I said, pretty big dreaming. Too big? Three months has just passed and I haven't met "him." And this is what I think about that: "In the universe there is an immeasurable, indescribable force which shamans call intent, and absolutely everything that exists in the entire cosmos is attached to intent by a connecting link."~ Carlos Castaneda.

I, right now, as I sit here and write am LINKING to the fulfillment of my intention. I could dwell on my intention not being met in my three-month imposed time frame, but that timeframe was used to jump-start the manifestation of my miracles. I am going to choose to dwell on the freak'n fact that I am now a BIG DREAMER! My dreaming mind has now crossed over the barrier of "someday" and is now in the realm of "any day now." For me, hurdling that barrier is worthy of a victory lap.

Let me give you an example of how it feels to me. This might be a long shot, but bear with me. I like to cook and bake but as I've moved around the country, and also gone from gas to electric ovens, I've noticed variables that make following a recipe to exact time specifications an inexact experience. Here's the reason why.

And right about now you might be saying, "This relates to her first intention being unfulfilled how?" I guess my reasoning on this is that, even a recipe, followed exactly, with its specified directions, temperatures, and cooking times, might need to be cooked longer depending on the conditions and the location of where the cooking is taking place. So, the cooks in the kitchen (me) waiting for the yummy food (guy) to be perfectly cooked (God-centered matched and ready to "get down and get back up again!")

I'm sure if I were to tell just about anybody I know those three intentions they'd be worried about me, wondering if my sanity was still intact. That's exactly why I only share my dreams anonymously here. But it's amazing how hopeful I am that I will eventually get exactly what I want. And it's even more amazing considering the realm of existence I'm living in which I will delve further into in a future post.

And finally, I don't practice yoga, but I find the idea of sankalpa a very close definition of what I am trying to do in my life.

Travel Time

I just got back from visiting a big city for a seminar I had eagerly anticipated attending. Adding to the excitement, my best friend from the place I had previously lived, whom I hadn't seen in a year or so, was going to be meeting me there. This friend, K., is 32 and engaged to be married this summer. She's cute and smart, comfortable in her own skin and just all-around good fun to be with. The interesting thing to me is that I don't view myself much differently than how I just represented K. to you. And yet, there must be a difference of perceivable energy that she gives off which I do not.

You see, after the last day of the seminar, which was attended by a large and varied group of people, there was a "bash" thrown at a popular bar for anyone up for it, and we were up for it. We got to this old English style pub and it was packed to overflowing, but somehow we made our way to a smaller side-room and Providentially (my boots were not made for walking and we had trekked there) found two seats at the bar to plop ourselves onto. It was the perfect place to have easy access to cold beers and people watching. And with only one beer down the hatch we started good times by "chair dancing" - whereby you're definitely moving to the music but you're not willing to get up off your ass to actually go to the dance floor.

WeIl, within no time at all, two, wholly new, cute guys, and another one previously met at the seminar, were hitting on K.! I was just kinda chatting with her "throwaways." But really, I was just happy to be out, in a big city, far from home, with loud music and cold beers in front of me.

K. got up to go see if an acquaintance from the seminar had arrived yet, but she got stopped by a group of fun-looking people at the other end of the bar, one of which was obviously very gay. He was a black man with a smile that lit up the darkened pub and a presence of joy that could be felt across the room. K., while stopping to talk with him, pointed over to me, as if telling him I was her "partner in crime" for the evening. The next thing I know he comes around the bar, sits down next to me, and proceeds to become my bff (best friends forever) for the night.

As one drink progressed into another, K. and her entourage and my new bff, basically made me follow them to the dance floor on the second floor (as her ploy to have me follow K. grabbed my full bottle of beer!). I didn't even know there was a second floor, much less dancing being done there! It was packed, as in, can it even be called dancing when there is no space to move? We did our best. And had lots of fun.

But the reason I bring this all up is what do I take away from the experience between K. and myself? She being engaged and hit on by numerous guys and me attracting a gay one! How do I take that message? Is it that I just say that even though I'm not yet attracting "the one" at least I'm attracting interesting people who find me interesting? I guess I'll spin it positively in that direction.

I have to mention one other little rewarding episode that occurred on my plane flight home. Usually when I get on a plane I'm all about saying a quick "hello" to my seat mate as I board and a "have a nice day" as I deplane. It's not that I'm opposed to talking to a stranger on a plane, I'm just opposed to initiating talking to a stranger on a plane.

But as I boarded the second and final leg of my trip back I found myself seated next to a young man (whom I found out later was aged twenty-four) that seemed as full of talk as an auctioneer with a warehouse full of items for bidders. He brought up in our discussion: fertility (or his lack thereof), the criminal justice system (with an emphasis on juvenile justice), homeopathic and herbal medicine (he wanted to bottle his own), restaurant ownership (he co-owned one), his English relatives and time spent living overseas, his cheating on his girlfriend and her cheating on him, and his dying grandfather whom he had just been to visit.

But what I most take away from having sat next to this earnest and nice-looking guy was when, after having been talking to me for some time, he said "You're probably in your early thirties aren't you?" I replied, "I'm thirty-six." And he said, "I wouldn't have guessed you were that old."

So, even though he talked my ear off, he left me with the sound of something I liked hearing : )