How Times Moves

Swiftly.
Evolving with everything we learn, every doctor we speak with, every emotion we share with each other.
We are growing - getting to know each other and our selves in a way we never have before.

When we took a class about energy and intuitive development while I was pregnant with Dahlia, I was presented for the first time with the idea that time does not move linearly on a horizontal plane, but rather that all time is happening at once, linearly in a way, but on a vertical plane.

At the moment I learned this in the class, I had a flash of the first time I noticed Dave during that summer both of us first found ourselves at Burning Man. Something about this guy intrigued me, and I just watched him from afar as he walked around and talked to people. I was busy trying to figure out why he intrigued me. He didn't look anything like the guys I'd been interested in until then - he was much bigger and buffer and more Jewish looking. I hadn't even talked to him yet, so I had no idea who he even was. But I was still intrigued.

Something inside me knew in that moment, even if I didn't know I knew. If all time was happening at once, then this moment right now was happening then. The moment we heard "There is a problem" in the ultrasound doctor's office was happening at the same time I was wondering about Dave at Burning Man in 1999. I felt something deep inside me in that moment because that something knew we would be going through this very experience together. I couldn't understand it with my logical brain, but intuition and time travel are not really logical things. I deeply believe my intuition, and I trust that it is guiding me, especially now.

Dave and I have been spending a lot of time together lately. We said we were looking forward to spending his last week of vacation before school started together, but we had no idea what life would present us with to make that possible. The last two days I've been accompanying him on the loop he's been walking every morning all these months. My personal trainer has been helping me exercise, and in spite of the exhaust fumes from Jerusalem's many cars, I have been happily taking in oxygen, thinking of Tikva and all that she needs to help her lungs grow as much as possible in spite of her challenges. This morning Dave said he feels like we're dating again, having those life conversations we used to have so many of in the beginning of our being together, and even before when we were friends and would sit at parties on the couch and talk.

It's been five days, and our lives have completely changed forever. Today we went to the supermarket and bought food with our minds on not overbuying, knowing that we needed to empty our cabinets, not fill them. I am waiting to hear from our travel agent on how soon we can get on the plane to San Francisco, but within two weeks we should be there. It's time to wrap up everything and move on to the next chapter. Time has let us know this, and we are doing what is necessary. We've started making the connection to UCSF and are waiting to hear back from them. I'm submitting my emergency Medi-Cal application for medical insurance. And we have to figure out a way to finish up the 4 bottles of maple syrup that Grandma and Grandpa brought us just a few weeks ago when they visited.

The head mamas at HUC are going to help set things up so that hopefully Dave can finish his year of studies from SF. Everyone has been so amazing at HUC, and in Israel in general. Wonderful, compassionate and bright doctors, all supporting us in returning to SF to get the best care possible at UCSF. Friends we've made and family friends of my dad's and our few cousins - all checking with us and ready to help with anything. The family of Dahlia's friend Noya from preschool, who had her over yesterday and said okay when Dahlia said she wanted to sleep over, then drove her home at 10pm when she got overwhelmed by her ambitious plan and wanted to come home.

Sometimes Dahlia forgets that she's just four years old. You should've seen her going to school today. She wanted a ponytail and for me to get her bangs out of her face, so I made the ponytail and then put a few barrettes to get her bangs out of her eyes. She was so pretty, you could see her entire face, uninterrupted. She looked so much like her. I could've eaten her for dessert. I feel sadness about taking her away from here, away from her little school and friends and the Hebrew she is learning. But I have to believe that she can handle it, and that she is going to something familiar, to her family and friends in the Bay Area. And that she chose our family to be born into, maybe knowing long before we did - before she and Tikva were even conceived, when they were baby spirits floating around together, already getting to know each other - that this would be part of how our lives would unfold. She's a tough cookie, and she is going to be an amazing big sister.

Today I remembered that it was our community of friends and family who gifted us the money for our plane tickets home from Israel. Little did we know then that they really would be plane tickets HOME - back home to the only place in the world that really has been our home for almost all of our lives. We are blessed that this happens to be where we can also get the best care for our baby. It's a strange bittersweet feeling - I'm not jumping for joy that we are leaving Jerusalem, in spite of how challenging some of the time has been. And yet I am comforted to know in some vague way where we are headed. And whatever is next after that, I have to trust that time will continue to move along that perfect spiral - forward and circular at the same time. All occurring all at once, just as it should.

Keep praying for us. And when you do, we have one request: Please think only positive thoughts. Energy follows thought, and we are staying positive and grounded in trust and hope. Tikva continues to kick and wiggle all day in my belly, letting us know she's doing all she can to continue to thrive for years to come. And reminding us that she's as tough a cookie as her big sister.