Monday, May 23, 2011

The Rapture Weekend

I have been in a funk. Deeply sad and very frazzled. As a gift, one of my closest friends rented a cabin for the weekend, deep in the Adirondack mountains. We arrived in an unseasonably chilly rain on Friday and settled in to this little hunting lodge - no TV, no radio, no WiFi, and no telephone reception. By night fall a huge storm settled in, thunder rumbling through the mountains, which had us hunkering close to the fireplace, hoping not to lose electricity, and wondering if maybe the end really was coming.

Although the forecast was for rain all weekend, we woke Saturday to a beautiful sunny morning. Outside the moisture was evaporating and forming a surreal mist throughout the trees and over the lake. Maybe I had been raptured and this was what heaven looked like. It was truly breath taking. We were able to wander, and canoe, and write, and enjoy the quiet solitude of being miles away from civilization.

In the evening we enjoyed an outdoor meal and sat lakeside, laughing at the loons, and wondering if the rest of the world still existed. We truly would not have known.

Sunday I woke to a full pancake and bacon breakfast and felt totally pampered and relaxed. Well rested. Spiritually fortified. Immensely grateful.

Driving home, cell phone service finally came back and with it, a text from Martha - “come to the hospital as soon as you get home. They have arrived.” They , I knew, meant two miracles babies.

Back story - a woman Martha works with tried for years and years to get pregnant. After much frustration she asked Martha about the clinic we used to get pregnant. We introduced them to our doctor and became involved with their journey, enjoying the irony of two lesbians helping a straight couple get pregnant. Anyway, it turned out that her uterus could not carry a baby. They eventually went the in vitro route, her egg, his sperm, and her sister who graciously offered to carry the baby. Then they found out they were having twins. And then the sister had health issues. It has been a long and stressful process.

The babies - Cody and Sophia - were born late Saturday night. Everybody happy and healthy. On Sunday I got to hold them. Really, is there anything better, more life affirming, than holding (and smelling) a new born baby?

When I finally got home, I learned that the Yankees and won the series against the Mets. That won me a free lunch with my niece next time I’m in NYC. Someone had gone grocery shopping and most of the laundry was done. Amazing. The weekend just kept getting better and better.

Last night I went to bed feeling renewed and ready to face the week ahead. Martha and I cuddled and talked about the weekend and especially about those beautiful babies. And then she said “we should have more.”

More what?

“More children.”

What???? Aren’t we a little old to be thinking about having babies?

“Not having them silly. We could adopt children. Or become foster parents”

We have, off and on, begun to talk about the next chapter of our lives since we will have an empty nest come September. But wow, more children was not at all what I was thinking. And somehow that feeling of peace and calm began slowly drifting away.


  1. Your weekend sounds like just what the doctor ordered.

    Say yes to more children. There are so many kids in need and you two are the greatest parents.

  2. Oh.Em.Geeeee. Has she lost her mind?! You are close to the end of the parenting; don't start all over! Take it from me, the second time around is less fun, less interesting, less satisfying.

    I'm so glad that you got to have such a restorative weekend. A little mountain/lake rapture on Earth. Hold on to the weekend feeling!

  3. I am so happy your weekend was what you needed. Seclusion, woods,water and bacon. Your recipe for mental health.

    I wonder how your girls would feel about more children in the house. Or where you would put them. Maybe you could get her a new kitten instead?

  4. At the risk of sounding like I'm psychoanalyzing Martha....

    This sounds like "Fear of Empty Nest Syndrome."

    I'm with e on this one. I'm guessing you are somewhere around my age (47), and I cannot imagine starting over--and mine are still at home! (15 and 10) I will miss them when they are gone, but I have lots of plans for that day. Not the least of which is being able to live with my spouse full-time...

    May I suggest the Big Sister program? You can offer love and nurturing to kids who need it, without having to go the whole-hog parenting route.

    At the very least, I would give myself a year of an empty nest to see how it feels.

    Of course, my advice is worth what you paid for it. ;-)