On our way from California to Michigan, our car broke down in the middle of the desert on the first day. We stayed the night in Baker, CA, just south of Death Valley, while a new fuel pump made its way from Barstow to our engine. We checked in at Arne's Royal Hawaiian, a cheesy-horror-flick kind of motel surrounded by an ominous graveyard of busted-up cars. We grumbled a bit, then shrugged our shoulders and made the most of it: glad to escape the 115 degree heat in the pool, and watch bad movies on TV with the A/C cranked up. It was a full moon that night, also a blue moon -- June 3oth.
Turns out it was a fortuitous and fertile detour. Like a hand reached down and interfered as if to say, The Time is Now!
Weeks later, with my cycle being officially late, we went on a whim to the store for a pregnancy test. I'd been imagining getting pregnant for so many months before this day that I was completely shocked by the reality of it. The jarring merge of my fantasy with the actual moment sent my heart pounding and my hands shaking wildly. I burst out of the bathroom, my eyes bulging out of my head, and showed the test stick to my husband. Now what?? The moment after the discovery was never scripted in my imagination...
I sat quietly, in awed shock, for the rest of the evening, while J and my mom made greens and tofu for dinner. Mom got the "Being Born" book off the shelf, and we tried to determine what stage of development the embryo was at. At five weeks it already has a heart the size of a poppyseed. I'm amazed at that -- our utterly tiny beginnings, and the remarkable ability of my body to grow this poppyseed into a life that breathes and loves and prefers one thing over another.