Monday, June 30, 2014


For the past month, my life has been consumed with balancing a demanding day-job with reproductive endocrinology.  The emotional pendulum has swung in a bad direction for many weeks, leaving me feeling weighed down by the stress of my work-that-pays-the-bills and downright suffocated by the very bad news I keep receiving from REs.  Every day I have carried the hope that I would not allow all of this to crush me, and as far as basic hopes go, I have done okay, I suppose.  I sleep.  I eat.  I mother my niblet. I hug my husband.  I cook our dinners.  But honestly I have had little joy.

But you know the way some people's knees predict the weather?  Well, this weekend, it was my creaky kneecap that predicted a way forward. I need to heal. I need to dance again. 

It should come as no surprise that I haven't had any time to either take or teach dance classes in the months following my last miscarriage.  Making matters worse, my left knee is a mess, with one kneecap looking pretty off-kilter to the naked eye.  When I was in NYC a few weeks ago, I actually took a ballet class and was completely hobbled after the barre  Balletophiles may know what I am talking about when I say that there's a point in every class when some of the, umm, ladies of a certain age start to bow out of the class.  In what was the ultimate crush to my ego I had to bow out with them, as I was unable to execute the pirrouettes and jumps that I love. Oh sure, I can walk, and have taken up swimming many laps at the pool to get workouts in, but that's not good enough, I need to MOVE.  You may recall that after my first miscarriage, I became a licensed zumba instructor because it gave me so much joy.  I also heaped on ballet classes that I love.  Not to put too fine a new-agey point on it, but dance is my bliss. 

So this weekend, when I woke up in the morning with knee pain after doing nothing I realized I have to get back into physical therapy.  I have to heal some very real physical issues that are preventing me from dancing.  Embarking on a treatment plan will certainly take time and energy away from acupuncture and all of the other appointments I have crammed into my life to save my ovaries.  But hey there universe, I'm writing to say I hear the wake-up call  Loud and clear.

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