Until the waterfall

What do I do with my days?
I spend a lot of time on hold. I now have my Congresspeople on my side, who will try to help advocate for me to expedite my visa.
But I am still feeling a sense of wrongness, in my body, in my heart, and more and more often, in my head, that, as the final days approach where getting on an airplane will be possible, I should get on a plane and be reunited with Tino.
I have the freedom to travel. He does not. It is my attachment to the safety and security that we
well, that we like to feel is around us when we are in a place. The US has better health care than TZ. Period. I am covered here. But I can still have a baby there. It is done everyday, and I am not afraid.
It amazes me how much time has passed since this video was recorded. My thoughts are there, so here is a little clip for all the world.


The other day I read an article about a man who started journaling the first year of his son's life, 18 years later, when his son was moving off to college, he found that he still could not stop. With every change, with every stage of growth, and wit from his son, he felt the need to memorialize it. I suppose this blog could turn out that way.
And from THAT perspective, there is a lot of editing to do!
Actually, when I thought about what I write, and who it is for, I realized that while it is principally for myself, for my own processing, I want to give the boy a good love story about his parents.
And my efforts to be very practical and follow the rules, endure life and do the right thing have not yielded one blog about my absolute adoration for my fiance. Fiance itself being a word only used in reference to visa applications.
That and I am not romantic.

Last night, I drove out to the old and lovely town of Pasadena, for a night of swing dancing. Every Thursday night, all ages get together for what must be one of the biggest swing parties in the area. Last night was 20bucks as opposed to the usual 7 I had in my pocket. It was a holiday party. I am getting a big belly, but felt good, felt I looked good (new clothes, new hair-do) and was torn between going to get out the extra money for the show or go home. I don't really know people in there, but I know you meet up, dance, get some exercise...
Still, a slight wave of wanting my man by my side came over me. A slight wave of feeling like a freak walking in to such a social event, on such a social holiday, along and pregnant made me wince. I left.
I had what to go home to? Decorating a Christmas tree. The only time it will be seen will be on my birthday, by my brother's family who is coming. Half-heartedly, and still feeling quite alone, I put things on the tree until I broke. I left the house, wailing. I walked to the mountains, and the more I cried, the more I cried.
The levee broke. It was fabulous and it scared me. I can be a very quite woman. I feared that the loudest and strongest that Baby Elias would hear his mother before he was born was crying. Not laughing or singing, but wailing.
How will that affect him?
What character will he have?
Will the fact that I have been unsettled make him as ADD as I am?
Will he be as happy and smiley as his father?

Thank god for herbal medicines and friends, there whenever you need them.
I realized that I have been maybe a little too complacent in my efforts to remain peaceful, grateful and strong. I distract myself by going dancing. That was not my reality. My reality is that the whole of three, my family, is divided, and it aches.
I have chosen my challenges, and I believe they make up for a beautiful, fulfilling life and will lead to more and more of the same.
But it is my life and I must continue to chose the best course of action, or the one that feels right.
God help me make good decisions.