Wednesday, January 16, 2013


I was given a Nightmare Before Christmas Jenga set for Christmas this year. I love all things Nightmare Before Christmas, so it's been sitting out in our kitchen since I brought it home. This means my 3 yo is constantly seeing it and asking to play.

And play we do. He's actually pretty good for 3, but he's also 3, so in the course of a game there is a lot of wiggling, banging, climbing on the table, moving his excavator too close to the leaning tower of blocks. And this makes me incredibly anxious, knowing that the whole tower will come down soon. And the higher it goes, the more anxious I become.

After last night's game, I realized that this journey with RPL and secondary infertility is a lot like playing a game of Jenga with a mentally unstable partner.

You carefully construct your set of blocks. You lay each block perfectly, nudging everything into place. You take blocks evenly from each side, thinking about your every move. But then, your mentally unstable partner comes along and shakes the table. Or yanks out the one block at the bottom holding everything up, and your tower falls.

You're sad. Disappointed. So you build again, only this time you're anxious: what will happen? Will you get the tower even built this time before he knocks it down?

And down the tower comes. Sometimes just as I'm starting to think that this time, no, this time, I've got a handle on things and we are going to build a tower of greatness.

Now I realize that for other women, they may not even get to build a tower. Their blocks may be missing, or damaged. And I try to tell myself, at least I get to build my tower again and again. Even if it gets knocked down by circumstances well out of my control.

And through my anxiety, all I can do is hope.


  1. That is a very effective anology. I guess our challenge is to accept the structure when it is a soaring tower and a pile of pieces on the floor.

  2. I have never in my life heard such a perfect analogy.