when all else fails, bake a pie

I’m having a blue day. Maybe it’s the sinking temperatures, the grey skies, fluctuant hormones, approaching holidays, or all of the above. Looking forward to my busy up-coming weekends now that I’m a vendor at the esteemed Eastern Market (Capitol Hill EM- lest you Detroiters think I’ll be setting up a table next to the smokey wintery winds of Bert’s BBQ.)  I have so much work to do. Unfortunately, it’s one of those days when the best I’ve got is just to remind myself that this too shall pass. So, I press on.

There’s still no bun in the oven despite our shrines, vibes and incantations. Oh, and the last 4 months of seemingly constant trips our the local baby lab, aka fertility clinic. Is there a saint you can bury in the backyard for this sort of thing? That worked so well for us before when we miraculously accomplished the impossible and sold our house in Detroit.  And speaking of miracles, the more I learn about fertility the more I can’t BELIEVE that any of us are here. It’s such a one in a million deal and even more so for an oldster like myself. It’s a wonder I ever wasted an ounce of concern on “unwanted” pregnancies.

I’ve made the mistake of setting mental milestones of when I was “positive” we’d have great news to share with our families. I played the scenarios over and over in my head, waiting for just the right moment to spring it on everyone. Perhaps they’d already have gotten suspicious once they noticed I wasn’t diving into the wine bottle with my usual aplomb. Maybe they’d have noticed the soft and resonant glow of my complexion, how thick and lush my mane or the stolen blissful glances of sweet satisfaction with Snakes. Maybe during a lull in the conversation (though unlikely with my family as free flowing as booze is around the holiday). Maybe Snakes would propose a toast before dinner.  Maybe I would quietly pull my parents aside for a perfectly tender holiday moment.  The latest milestone was Christmas. And the only thing perfectly tender will be my dad’s smoked salmon.  I foolishly thought this good news might help to soften the blow when I meet all of the other unplanned or otherwise babies that were born this year into my family.  Unplanned. I can’t even wrap my head around that. (I am such a hag. I hate it that I have anything but unbridled joy when welcoming a new little life force into the world. Crazy, angry lady.  The one who puts dog hair in her Halloween candies.)

So today’s a little tough. In the grand scheme of things, I realize that things can ALWAYS be worse. I feel like a jack-ass posting something like this after steeping so recently in that season of gratitude.

Which brings me to the only thing I may be capable of today. Baking a pie. I need golden flaky pastry crust and warm juicy fruit. I need the smell of that buttery pie to warm my house and me from the inside out. I need the bright tang of the berries to jolt me back to myself. I need a generous dollop of freshly whipped cream to remind me that everything is gonna work out just fine.

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20 thoughts on “when all else fails, bake a pie

  1. “And speaking of miracles, the more I learn about fertility the more I can’t BELIEVE that any of us are here. It’s such a one in a million deal. . .”

    Totally a miracle. Perhaps one that happens commonly around us, but still, the odds are just stacked against the continuance of the human race. Every conception — miraculous.

  2. oh eve, I am so sorry you are struggling with this and I am wishing you lots and lots of baby dust. You are right, it’s positively astonishing that there are so many people in the world, given the odds of creating a baby each time. I hope to hear your wonderful news very soon. In the meantime, be good to yourself…I think a pie is the right idea!

  3. Also sending you good thoughts. I can’t imagine how you feel and wish I had something to say that would help. I have nothing though. My heart aches for you reading this post. Just wanted you to know that I care and that I hope things get better soon. (That is a pretty amazing pie by the way. Keep hanging in there.)

  4. I love you so much Eve, I miss you, I want to hug you, sip warm tea with you and bake with you! If I could I’d lasso the moon for you.
    Love Summer

  5. You guys will be great parents. I mean, you’ve already got the pie baking thing down! =) Sorry you’re having to go through this rough patch… I’m hoping (and betting) you have good news to share soon.

  6. Oh, I identify with your feelings. You go from trying not to get pregnant because it’s not the right time, to OK, are we doing everything right, why is it not happening.

    It took my husband and I a while to decide to have kids. Then we eventually had our daughter. We wanted another one but were trying to time getting pregnant again because of employment and insurance issues. After trying on and off for several years with no results, we sorta gave up and donated almost all of our daughter’s baby paraphernalia that we had been stashing in the attic, when we moved to DC, so he can start A-100. A couple of months later, what do you know, we got pregnant and are now expecting a baby boy.

    Sending you good baby vibes and hoping you too will have great news to share with all of us soon!

  7. Have been thinking a lot of you lately — Vivi il momento, everything IS going to be alright.
    detroit loves & misses you! ahem – admit that, yeah, I was briefly thrown by the eastern market reference. Congratulations mz vendor! am envious of your flaky crust
    Be well and stay safe & warm

  8. Your pie in progress pictures are absolutely beautiful and so are you! It’s perfectly legal to get down in the dumps now and then.Those crazy wicked hormones have the power to make mincemeat of us all. You’re fine. It’s not exactly derelict behavior to bake a homemade pie!!! LYTP

  9. Mmmmm……pie……pie is to me what beer is to Homer. I hear you sister.
    Thinking of you and sending good vibes. What more can I do but say I care and I hope along side of you both? Hope the peace of the season reaches you both. love, laura

  10. We waited for 12 years after getting married to start a family. We swear family had bets at the wedding that we were just getting married because we were pregnant. Ha, fooled them. They were begging by the time Ceiba came along. When we did decide, we went the adoption route right out of the gate, because it just felt right. Families form as families form… with love. I wish you the gift of parenthood, any way you get there. And if you go the adoption route, you may pick my brain til your heart’s content. Love always finds a way 🙂

    1. Thanks Denise! I’ve actually considered emailing you about your experience with adoption. I’ve read your archived blog posts. Thank you so much for the lovely comment. I’m really glad to hear you three are taking advantage of the local travel opportunities while settling into Dhaka. An interesting holiday on tap, no?

  11. I so appreciate this post! We have been hitting up the baby lab for some time now with no results – it’s frustrating. I go back and forth about blogging about it, but I’m glad you did. It speaks to something real and something that MANY women go through, and the more I ask around, many foreign service women go through. In a purely selfish sense, it helps me to cope knowing there are other fabulous women out there fighting the good fight 🙂

    Hang in there and know that you have support.

    1. Oh, Brooke! Thanks for your comment. It IS an incredibly private issue, but I do see that good can come from sharing too. (like this) My experience has been that it is very isolating. If you need to talk about anything, I encourage you to email me, it really does help to have someone to lean on who has been/is going through it! Take good care.

  12. So sorry to hear you’re having to go through this. I have several dear friends who’ve had the same troubles, and all I can say is… nothing. I don’t know how to make it better – no one does – but you’re in my prayers.

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