"Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief... in your wife's hand?"

(Post title from Othello.)

Last night, Arieh and I were doing some much needed spring cleaning of the spare room in our apartment. It has essentially turned into the "random stuff dumping ground" of the apartment, and seeing as we're hosting a large couple's dinner Friday night, we should prolly clean it up :)

Cleaning out old stuff is always fun- finding old photos, notes, and all sorts of things to reminisce. I found the box where we've kept a good deal of wedding ephemera: RSVP cards, unsent invitations, all the cards from both my shower and the wedding. I had forgotten about the very special gift my mother had given me: an Irish handkerchief that with a few stitches and some ribbon, turns into a Christening bonnet for your newborn* (that, hopefully they will undo the stitches and carry it on their wedding day as a hankie, etc.)

*Allow me to clarify: I'm of Irish descent on my mom's side, so it was important to have some kind of reflection of my Irish heritage at my very Jewish wedding. I carried the hanky down the aisle, wrapped around my bouquet. Since I obviously wouldn't use it for a Christening, I had still planned on using it for a bris or naming ceremony for our future firstborn.

I was all happy and jovial and in the domestic spring cleaning spirit and BAM! It was like I was hit with a sack of bricks in the face. I showed Arieh, my eyes already brimming with tears and without hesitation he says: "Of course we're going to use that! You better not throw it away." And I didn't, of course. It's one of my favorite wedding keepsakes. I tucked it back into the storage box and swallowed the lump in my throat.

Navigating the Land of IF has been an excellent read so far. It's witty, well-written, and painfully honest. Early on, Ford discusses the need to practice "emotional rationing." We need to be acutely aware of our emotional stores and recognize what drains us and what fills us up, and to balance appropriately. Sometimes, we need to ration our emotional stores- saving up for a big event that could otherwise tear us down. It could be buying baby shower gifts all at once, wrapping and labeling them, and keeping them in a closet, ready to go for a random shower when we just don't have the energy to go out and face an onslaught of baby goods. It could be about RSVP-ing to a cousin's shower and opting out of a coworker's shower in the same month. Maybe it's having a good cry on the way home from the event. Really, it's about knowing what you can and cannot handle, and how to cope and respond appropriately.

This has got me thinking about what could end up being a disastrous week in May: my 27th birthday, my followup dr's appt, and then a baby shower- all scheduled within less than a week of one another. I'm thinking I should really reschedule the doctor's appt if I can to the week before. It all depends on whether or not the test results are back yet. If I can't, I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to handle it.

The last few days, I've been wicked down on myself. Not knowing whether this is a genetic or autoimmune issue, but feeling fundamentally cheated either way: either there's a defect within every single cell of my body, or that my own body can't stop attacking itself. Today I'm doing a lot better- mostly b/c I have a rockin' husband who knows just what to say and how to kick my ass into gear. But it certainly reassures this mantra of taking it one day at a time.