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

Looking Back

December 30th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I was scrolling back through my year, by which I mean pictures on my phone, in preparation for some sort of 2019 Top 9 type post (mine usually become more like Top 81, as I can never pick) and I realized that I was spending much more mental energy obsessing over how thin or not thin I was in the pictures, than I was reveling in my accomplishments / adventures. (The above picture, from Jan 2019, makes me ANGRY, because I think I felt fat? But I am way more cupcake-y, even since then.) Two years of fertility treatments and failed pregnancies and baking and eating and drinking ALL OF MY FEELINGS means I have basically gained the amount of weight one gains when one actually has a baby, yet I currently have no baby to show for it. My jeans are stacked like unread books in my closet. I don’t even look at them anymore. I should be easy on my myself, but it’s hard. I spent my delicate formative years very overweight and hating myself for it, and then MORE formative years jogging and counting and spinning and restricting. It’s hard for me to just accept that my body has changed and that it’s not the end of the world. But, also, it’s not as hard and I thought it might be? Because I know it doesn’t matter as much as I once thought it did. Because I don’t have the space to care? Because I’m basically happy, and well-fed? Because there is a time to worry about how much one’s gut cupcakes when one sits down, and then there is a time for self-care, for self-kindness, for Doritos, for mercy.

Posted in DRESSES!!!!!!!!!!!!, how interesting, life, the making of babies, whining, women, 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 »

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 »

Say Goodbye to These, Michael

August 11th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Sometimes you make a cake for a friend because she’s managed to stay alive X amount of years, and it’s the yearly commemoration of her birth, and sometimes you make her a cake because she’s  getting a double Mastectomy to prevent the spread of her cancer, so that she can be MORE alive, and for longer. My LA little sister Mackenzie has been facing this whole thing head on with HUMOR AND GRACE, ie, she threw a White Girl Witch farewell party for her breasts, featuring an actual rack of lamb and performances by her close friends, staged readings of earnest scenes from the Bachelor, stand-up, song and dance — all formed around this Arrested Development favorite:

Now that she’s safely on the other side of her surgery, I have to share the Lemon Cream Cheese cake that I put all of my love and worry  into. I offered a boob cake, Mack requested that the cake ‘maybe not look like an actual boob, but maybe have…boob WRITING on it?’ PLEASE NOTE THE LITTLE EYEBALL CANDIES THAT ARE MEANT TO TASTEFULLY LOOK LIKE BOOBS.

But mostly I have to share how proud of and in awe I am of this woman. Her ability to laugh at everything and anything. The fact that in the days leading up to her surgery, she was working on pitching her next show and got two job offers. Here’s to so many more years with her, more themed tragedy parties, more inflatable props.

 

Posted in a lot, CAKES, family, food, i am lucky, life, love, the future, what my friends are doing, women, YAY | 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 »

I AM HERE (?)

June 6th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Public Servant opens tonight and sadly I am not there, because I can’t be Everywhere, so I’m across the country wishing it Well.  But I dreamt last night that I WAS there, but I was a hologram, I was a projection from a machine I couldn’t see, I was sitting in the rehearsal room in Pajamas watching the actors prepare, and whenever anyone spoke to me I said I’m so sorry, I’m not really here, and so I’m left to wonder, AM I HERE? AM I TRULY ANYWHERE?

Posted in a lot, hmmmmm, how interesting, i am scared, life, the future, the writing of drama plays, theater | No Comments »

Rachel Held Evans, 37

June 4th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

This remarkable person died last month. I somehow managed to not hear about her until AFTER she died, which still feels absurd to me, as her life’s work was questioning her faith while also living in it, finding space within her religion (Evangelical Christian turned Episcopalian) for the marginalized, but mostly — BECAUSE SHE DECIDED TO LIVE A WHOLE YEAR OF HER LIFE AS A BIBLICAL WOMAN AND WROTE A BOOK ABOUT IT, LIKE SHE SLEPT IN THE YARD WHEN SHE GOT HER PERIOD AND CALLED HER HUSBAND MASTER, to both honor biblical traditions but also dig into their ridiculousness. HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS PERSON? I have since ordered all she’s written, and plan to spend as much time as possible bathing my brain in it. So far, from what I’ve learned from her, this resonates with me the most: Living in faith is better than living in fear. But also, her death has given me a weird gift. She died at the age of 37, a few weeks shy of her 38th birthday, after complications from an infection. I’m turning 37 next week and I’ve been wearing this fact around like a big wet dress. I own 37 but don’t love that I’m becoming it with no kid or motherhood in sight. But reporters and writers  keep calling her YOUNG as they list her profound accomplishments, which makes me feel old but still young, still much to do, much to learn.  And learning Everything this dear person ever wrote and thought is next.

Posted in a lot, faith, famous people stuff, hmmmmm, i am lucky, life, love | No Comments »

Who it’s For

March 6th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

HI DO YOU THINK I’M A PLAYWRIGHT WHO DOESN’T READ OR CARE ABOUT THEIR REVIEWS? HI, YOU’RE WRONG.  I read them with one eye open, one eye shut to the pain, the other hoping to learn something. I’ve never been a critical darling, I’m perhaps not cynical nor subversive enough,  so I wasn’t shocked to read the lukewarm reviews of Cake, tho I DON’T KNOW, I CAN GET DOWN WITH A LUKEWARM BATH, OR SOUP. But while in the past, I’ve felt devastated by bad reviews, emotionally hungover — this time, I actually feel kind of fine. Because this play is not for critics (hopefully no plays are FOR critics?) It is for these people:

A big reason I wrote this play was out of respect for my parents, their beliefs, even though a lot of them are different from my own. Last night, they joined me at opening, engaged with my ideas,  HEARD MY PLAY, AND SHOWED ME LOVE.   THAT IS WHO AND WHAT THIS WAS ALL FOR.

THIS COMMEMORATIVE APRON ALSO DOES NOT HURT.

 

Posted in a lot, family, i am lucky, life, love, words, YAY | No Comments »

Why I’m Tired

February 2nd, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I hate it when people are like, I’m so busy and tired, here’s why I’m so busy and tired, and yet, I feel compelled to document the absurdity that was January. And so I’ve gathered these facts, for my own amusement, and maybe yours:

January 4th, my last This is Us episode started pre-production.

Jan 6th, The Cake started rehearsal in NYC.

January 10th-11th, the This is Us writers went to Vegas where I ate all of the tequila and the hotel moaned all night like it was crying, preventing any sort of sleep.

January 12th, I (with consistent help from Morrison, who managed to turn it into a weird game) started shooting myself up with hormones twice a day, in hopes of harvesting some eggs / making us some embryos at the end of the month.

January 15th my episode started filming. I gave myself shots each morning and night, worked 12 hour days, grew increasingly tired and perhaps emotional, but perhaps maybe it’s normal to sob when you pass teachers protesting in the rain? I stole naps when I could. I tried to focus. I humbly ate from whatever trough of mashed potatoes was provided between scenes.

January 21st my episode wrapped.

January 22-27 I spent each day at the doctor, getting bloodwork and ‘wandwork,’ if you will, increasing hormone dosages, crying at fingernails, drinking whole grain goldfish crackers like vitamin water.

January 28th I went under, eggs came out (TO GREAT SUCCESS / MORE ON THAT LATER.)

Jan 29th I flew to NYC with IV tape gum still pulling at my arm hairs to check in with The Cake, watched three days of run-throughs, gave notes,  continued to try and understand and communicate my play, saw some shows, saw some favorite people, ate meatloaf alone, had some meetings about some potentially very exciting new things. Last night, I got to the airport, found an empty outlet, dropped my things, collapsed onto a weird stool and just sat there, and realized, that I was exhausted.

And just for a moment I wondered, Why?

REALLY BEKAH? REALLY? WHY?

And then I realized that I was so tired because my dreams are coming true, sort of slowly and immediately at the same time.  And then I realized that when dreams come true, it’s exhausting. And then I decided: if you’re not careful, you’ll actually  miss your own dreams coming true. You’ll confuse them with fatigue. Then I decided to forever try and associate Tired with dreams coming true. Except of course when I am actually, really just tired, in which case, I will just GO TO SLEEP. GNIGHT, SEE YOU IN MARCH

Posted in a lot, babies, hmmmmm, how interesting, i am a grown up, i am lucky, lies, life, love, MAWWAGE., the future, the making of babies, the writing of drama plays, theater, things | No Comments »

Taking Notes

January 27th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

As an adult, I have a sort of casual, magical  relationship with church. I like the feeling of showing up when I want, wearing what I want, crying because no one knows me, leaving after I slip some money into the plate. It’s a nebulous relationship, still forming, still deciding itself, but I keep feeling pulled back, especially when I need to pray. But most of all I think I REALLY RESPOND TO THE SERMON NOTES FORMS:

Clean and crisp and waiting for words that won’t elude you. All you have to do is pay attention. It reminds me of elementary and middle school when to find the answer, the One answer, you just have to Listen. I always leave the sermon with some words that resonate for the rest of the week. Today: ‘Step into Fear. Know that God was there before you.’  And also, from Mother Theresa: ‘To be faithful in Little Things is a great thing.’ And ‘one time, on Palm Sunday, we let a Donkey in the church. Are YOU the donkey in the church? ‘

 

Posted in faith, hmmmmm, i am lucky, life, the whole world | No Comments »

« Previous Entries