Not sobs, or crushing convulsions; just singular tears dropping one by one down my cheeks.
Tears that I was too exhausted to even bother wiping away.
We had been discussing how I should look at this cleanse not only as a way to clear out all the toxins currently residing in my body, but also as a way to rid myself of all these pent up feelings; a time to completely wipe the state clean and start over.
We were also talking about how not simple that is in this world where I have to keep on living; waking up at ungodly hours (OK, so I don’t even have to be at work until 9, but still… I hate mornings), making it through my day intact and functional, keeping up with friends and family (and the DVR), and writing… always writing (the one thing I think I do truly for me).
“It’s a full time job” Teeny was saying. “Completely taking care of yourself requires time that most people just don’t have. You almost have to be able to step away from everything in order to do it right. To get the right sleep, exercise, and nutrition; you can’t be focused on anything else. There are places in Thailand where someone will give you coconut juice first thing in the morning and your days are filled with massages, self reflection and healthy food that you don’t have to prepare yourself. You almost need that to really get your body to where it needs to be.”
Wait a minute. Hold the phone. Where are these places, and how do I get there?
I’m not sure I heard another word Teeny said after that point.
I did however hit up Google as soon as I got back from my appointment.
I highly doubt Teeny ever thought she was planting this seed in my head with her little off handed comment, but she had me intrigued and daydreaming – thinking that I must find this location of ultimate relaxation and healing and figure out how to get there ASAP!
What I found was better than even my wildest dreams.
I have determined that Thailand is the home to what can only be described as Nirvana.
The place I want to spend the rest of my days healing and growing and seeking out my Zen.
2 entire weeks at one of these little havens (in a villa on the beach) would cost me half of what IVF cost me.
How’s that for a kick in the junk?
For twice the money I got: pumped full of hormones like a prized pig, dreams built up to the high heavens and ultimately dashed, and doctors who can’t even be bothered to remember the specifics of my case.
It’s not like I would have left that Thai beach resort with a baby (unless I chose to snatch one when no one was looking), but at least I would have left rejuvenated, healthy, and strong instead of beaten down, broken, and ailing.
Plus, I would have had $10,000 left over to start a college fund for my little
As I was making these calculations in my head and trying to determine how to achieve my road to healing, I had to remind myself that this isn’t really going to happen. The well is dry, the bank is tapped, and I officially owe more than I will make in the next 3 years of my life.
How’s that for depressing?
But a girl can dream… and dream I did.
And it was in my dreaming that I formulated a plan. A plan that goes something like this:
I will embark upon a journey to assimilate those ice babies to my womb sometime this winter (exact dates not yet set, but I’m bouncing back and forth between November and January). If that doesn’t work (because at this point – how can I not hope for the best but plan for the worst?) I will promptly submit my audition tape to Big Brother.
I will of course be chosen (because who wouldn’t want me starring in their reality TV show? Oh yeah. Chris Harrison. Whatever dude. Your loss.) and I will quit my job and put it all on the line to win the ultimate summer reality contest.
I’ve always thought that I would do exceptionally well at those endurance challenges, mostly because I really am a tough chick when it comes to getting something I want. My real plan to win though is by regaling the other contestants with my sad sad story about how I will never birth a child and I will forever be saddled with a debilitating disease that has robbed me of my youthful naivety about life, love, and the pursuit of happiness.
Once I’m able to walk away with my $500,000 in winnings (which I am counting on being about $250,000 after the government steps in) I will pay off my grandmother, my house, my car, and my student loan. From there, I should still have about $70,000 left over – of which I will promptly use for at least a month long retreat to this location where I plan to finally heal; mind, body, and spirit.
When I'm feeling whole again (back to the me I used to be – before this disease completely mucked up my mid twenties) I'll return to the U.S. with that little Thai baby I will have successfully snatched and hidden under my sweatshirt until safely home where I can teach him or her to start calling me “mama”.
Once baby and I are settled, I will invest whatever is leftover and live off the proceeds from my international best seller depicting the road to finding myself; past the hurdles of infertility and heartbreak.
You see? I’ve got it all planned out.
In the meantime, Teeny wants me walking. Not running or hiking or pushing myself too hard; just walking. Every day. 20-30 minutes a day. Clearing my head and focusing on the wind and air and trees around me.
While continuing to work on the details of my plan to get to Thailand.
Where the real healing begins.
The healing that I can focus on like a full time job.
Instead of in random bursts and intervals so as not to disrupt the other aspects of my life.
Thailand or bust.
