bekah brunstetter
Bekah Brunstetter I care deeply. About a lot of things. Like really, really deep. Ow
playwright in brooklyn, NY

The Easiest Part

October 9th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

My friend Maggie and her boyfriend Grimur had a little Girl about 6 months ago, as weird and beautiful as her parents. I kept asking Maggie what her daughter’s name was, and she kept saying, we don’t know. And also: we’ll decide when the government needs us to! Granted, they are Icelandic, so basically they ONLY DO THINGS IF INSTRUCTED TO BY HIDDEN PEOPLE, or if compelled to do so by their art guts. They were so busy raising and marveling at her, that her name didn’t really seem to matter. Their little girl went nameless for I think something like 3 months before they settled on Myrra, something that both Americans and Icelanders could easily pronounce. I was thinking about Myrra and Maggie the other day as Morrison and I had our 8 millionth ‘what will we name our children‘ conversation. For us, that has been the easiest part, probably because we’ve had much time to discuss. It started the year before we got married as we floated in a desert hot Spring, poking around the names of our siblings and grandparents and musicians we liked. For going on four years now, we’ve known ****** and ****** and ******. Their names are so clear to us, and we repeat them sometimes, remind ourselves of them, like saying ***** and ***** and ****** will make them exist, before they do. Just as I’m trying to patiently allow myself to think about worst case scenarios, I’m trying to also think about the good ones. Like when ***** or ****** or ****** is grown, they might ask us someday, why did you name me *****? And we will smile and say, because we knew it was your name, long before we knew You.

Posted in i am a grown up, i am lucky, i have peace, kids, silly, the future, the making of babies, whining, worrying, YAY | No Comments »

Chemical Pregnancy

September 21st, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter
  • a very early loss of a pregnancy, when the Embryo fails to keep growing
  • option C, when you’d convinced yourself there were only two options: A, pregnant, and B, not pregnant
  • a particularly stinging sort of bitchslap, after years of losses
  • the ceremonious lighting on fire of thousands of dollars
  • a fun thing to add to the growing list of Things you will shout at your kid one day, ie, ‘MOMMY AND DADDY ENDURED ‘INSANE THING X’ TO BRING YOU INTO THE WORLD AND WE CAN TAKE YOU OUT OF IT
  • a chance for me to post this WEIRDLY MY FAVORITE PICTURE OF MYSELF, taken before our first embryo transfer, that I was saving for a YAY OUR IVF CYCLE WORKED! post
  • A chance, once again, to share our story, normalize this shit, and perhaps provide a bit of hope, because Life goes On, because People want to Live, both Tiny Embryo People and Grown People attempting to make more Life
  • so off we stumble now towards the Next Time, a couple of Masochists, dreaming of our future, THANK YOU, WE’LL HAVE ANOTHER

Posted in a lot, life, the future, the making of babies | No Comments »

Find it, and Look at it

August 28th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

What is the word for when a writer remembers a quote from something written and it inspires them, but the quote is from something that they themselves wrote? OH RIGHT, NARCISSISM. I keep thinking about these lines from my play The Oregon Trail, in which a young girl is VERY BEGRUDGINGLY traveling cross-country with her sister and Dad.

MARY ANNE: C’mon Jane. Look at the bright side.

JANE: I’m tryin ta. But I just don’t see it.

CLANCY: Find it and look at it.

I keep shouting this at myself in my head. Whenever I feel myself start to drop into anything like self-pity, which sometimes feels like a hot tub full of gummy bears, a warm place I’d like to be. Look at the bright side. Keep turning the thing around or wandering around it until you find it. FIND IT, AND LOOK AT IT.

Posted in a dream is a wish your heart makes, a lot, faith, generally, hmmmmm, the making of babies, trying too hard, Uncategorized | No Comments »

Bitch-slapped by Hope

August 20th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Why be a writer at all, or even have a blog at all, if I don’t keep trying to find a new way to articulate the same thing over and over, just keep finding and finding new ways to Say it? I have a new way to describe how I feel re: procreation attempts that keeps pinging around my brain, and so I’ll leave it here. I feel like I’m a Shutterstock image of a woman turning her face to the Sun, she’s grateful, she’s positive and she’s teeming with her own dreams, she’s very simply happy to be alive, maybe she’s pretending she’s a bug on a rock, maybe she’s reminding herself that she’s small, but either way, her eyes are closed and she’s just happy there, and the Sun moves just so that it warms her face like a cookie and just as her lips move into a calm and trusting smile A GIANT’S HAND MADE OF HER OWN CALCIFIED HOPE AND ALSO WHAT FEELS LIKE STEEL COMES OUT OF NOWHERE AND BITCH SLAPS HER ACROSS THE FACE, and she’s stunned, but then sinks to the grass in search of her teeth, and finds them scattered in five miles each direction.

SO JUST PLEASE STAY TUNED FOR MY NEXT PLAY, BITCH SLAPPED BY HOPE, BROADWAY 2023, STARRING SARAH JESSICA PARKER AS ME AND AN ACTUAL 20 FT TALL TRANSFORMER AS MY HOPE.

Posted in a dream is a wish your heart makes, the future, the making of babies, whining | No Comments »

Further and Further Away

August 14th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I don’t so much have Good dreams or Bad Dreams, I have Worry Dreams, with very simple plots that usually involve me trying to get somewhere important, pushing through sand and time to get there, but the destination keeps getting moved to somewhere far. I dream that I’m supposed to have another surgery but I’m tired of Waiting and I’m Hungry so I go to get a Sandwich but I get lost getting back and I can’t find my hospital bed because I swear I only went five minutes away, but it takes hours to get back to it. I’m realizing that all of these dreams are exactly how I feel about still trying to have a baby.  The end keeps getting moved, pushed farther. It’s always nine months away, plus Whatever Time.  I’ve been walking for hundreds of miles dragging my rolling suitcase full of stones but the Gate has changed, I swear it was There but then it’s Not. Meanwhile I can hear and see everyone, already there. They’re laughing with their toddlers, it’s a picnic, there’s face paint and wading pools and games and chicken nuggets, vats of Annie’s Mac n Cheese, they’re all waiting. Where’s Bekah? It’s so easy to get here. We’ve been here for years. Maybe she’s not coming. And I’m screaming at them, I’m coming, I’m trying, don’t leave, I’m almost there! But they can’t hear me, because as I’m screaming, they’ve moved to another planet, a million miles further away.

Posted in a lot, life, love, the future, the making of babies, what my friends are doing, whining, women, words, worrying | No Comments »

BOOK A CLOWN

August 1st, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I’m back in town, prepping and getting my head in the game for some upcoming IVF hullabaloo, which means blood draws and needle parties and Google panics and that I just bought 47 pounds of Kale but all I can think about is Wine. MOST IMPORTANTLY, while researching things One can Do to Pretend to be in Control of One’s life While undergoing IVF, I stumbled across this gem nugget of advice:

SO HEADS UP MORRISON WILL BE SPENDING THE NEXT TWO MONTHS PREPPING HIS TIGHT FIVE AS AN IVF CLOWN / JOKE PITCHES WELCOME.

 

Posted in generally, ha, life, love, MAWWAGE., the making of babies, whining, women, YAY | No Comments »

Suffering Noisily

July 10th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Yesterday, I had another surgery that’s hopefully getting us one step closer to having a tiny person running around our house demanding to know where Poop comes from. It was the longest I’d ever been under anesthesia, and surely the gnarliest procedure I’ve had, and there was pain, AND I NEEDED EVERYONE AROUND ME TO KNOW IT. I’m not a person who suffers pain silently.  If I’m in pain, I feel like, what’s the point of the my pain if everyone within a 5 mile radius or at the very least my 2,000 instagram followers doesn’t know that it’s happening? It’s definitely weakness of character, or what Morrison calls ‘fortitude,’ ie, if my life were a game of Dungeons and Dragons I would be dead from a skinned knee before my adventure boat even left the castle (?). It’s also a little bit of narcissism, but like, a regular human amount. But maybe also it’s wanting to Share. Whenever I’m feeling anything intense, I don’t go In, I go Out. I don’t want just sympathy, I want Connection. All of this to say, when I reach the end of this road paved with white hospital bracelets, and a baby is exiting my body, please know that I will be Sharing my pain with anyone who can hear me. THE ENTIRE WORLD WILL KNOW.

Posted in babies, the future, the making of babies, what I'm wearing, whining, women, worrying, YAY | No Comments »

What I need to Hear

July 8th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Yesterday, a Sunday morning:

  • I wake up, feeling a need to go to church and be quiet and reflective and pray
  • I Go to church
  • Okay, yes, I get there a few minutes late, but I take my program humbly, receptively, sneak in through the back door
  • I WALK RIGHT IN MID-DEDICATION OF BABIES
  • (For the non-church going readers: this is when new parents bring their babies on stage and dedicate themselves, as parents, to raising their Baby in the church, and the pastor blesses the baby, and the baby pretends to answers questions and all of the childless mothers of Gilead in the sanctuary turn to brownie batter and melt out of their seats and die)
  • I consider TURNING THE OTHER WAY AND RUNNING OUT OF THE CHURCH, and being quite noisy about it on purpose, maybe slamming through some doors, so that everyone knows my pain, and then sits there, putting two and two together
  • I decide, instead, to quietly, respectfully take a seat towards the back and cry quietly, respectfully while the babies are dedicated
  • I Listen to the Pastor as he tells the congregation that this couple in particular prayed and prayed for their daughter Rose; that she was a gift, not an assumption
  • I realize how badly I needed to hear this
  • I sit there, quietly, hearing everything else I needed to hear

Posted in a lot, faith, ha, hmmmmm, the future, the making of babies, the whole world, the worst, whining, women | No Comments »

LORD HELP ME

June 10th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

IN AN ATTEMPT TO SOOTHE MY BRAINWHIR, I’VE BECOME A PERSON WHO WRITES PRAYERS AND AFFIRMATIONS (WHICH I’M COMING TO REALIZE ARE THE SAME THING) ON NOTECARDS AND PLACES THEM WHERE I CAN MOST FREQUENTLY SEE THEM

IS THIS A SIGN OF THE END (OR PERHAPS THE BEGINNING)

Posted in a lot, i am lucky, i am scared, i have peace, oh nooo, the future, the making of babies, trying too hard, whining, women, worrying, YAY | No Comments »

Placebo Organizer

May 27th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I am now taking so many vitamins and supplements that I require a cheery little carrier. All doctor and FDA approved,  I take one with food in the morning, one in the morning without food but with water, one in the mid afternoon between food and with no water, one at night with food and with water, another at night after food while drowning, ALL WITH MISPRONUNCIATIONS,  sometimes with water, sometimes not, ALWAYS WITH A BALANCED HEART, EQUAL PARTS CONFUSION AND OPTIMISM.

Posted in a lot, how interesting, i am a grown up, the future, the making of babies, worrying, YAY | No Comments »

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