On Getting Cold Feet Fingers

My body gave me an interesting lesson this week. 

I was grocery shopping, grabbing some items from the refrigerated section, when eight of my fingers lost circulation.  I had a difficult time getting my credit card out to pay. I have a little bit of Raynaud’s (an autoimmune thing) so I’m used to a finger or toe losing circulation when I’m out in the cold for too long, or if the temperature suddenly changes. But this was by far the worst flare up I’ve ever had, and it lasted about 20 minutes.

I was caught off guard, because physically I felt fine and I wasn’t stressed out at the moment. But let’s be real- I’m definitely stressed out. I’ve been trying to control A LOT of outcomes. 

My brain has been endlessly researching for the past several months: first visa options, then schools, neighborhoods, soccer and swim teams, language learning resources, summer camps in Spain, ways to support the boys, flights, dog breed complications for Penny, dog vaccine requirements, dog shipping costs, how to sell our cars, how to prep our house to sell, etc. That’s not even my full list. 

But for each of those categories, I’ve been demanding of myself, “How can I make sure x,y,z works out?” There is a delusional part of my brain that thinks that if I can just research/learn/gather enough resources… I can make ANYTHING work out. Right? 

And my body gave me a little heads up, “Hey Maggie, that’s not actually true at all. You aren’t in control of any of this. And thinking you are in charge has made your fingers temporarily stop working.” 

I guess functioning with an underlying pressure on myself to “make this happen” can do that. 

I’m not alone- Chris and I are an excellent team in this regard. We’ve tackled each step together, and he’s gotten me through many difficult moments. I’ve got an amazing therapist who is the nicest woman ever, and has this ability to see confidence in me where I do not notice it myself. We’ve got lots of friends and family rooting for us, and I feel their genuine support. But sometimes, it DOES feel like at the end of the day, you’re alone with yourself. 

And alone with this uncomfortable truth: no amount of preparation can guarantee outcomes.

We still don’t know if we’ll get the visa. We don’t know exactly where the boys will land socially. We don’t know what Spain will actually feel like once we’re living there. The hardest uncertainty of all right now is Penny. I can research regulations, contact vets, and price flights. None of that can tell me which choice will ultimately be best for her.

Maybe that’s what my frozen fingers were trying to tell me. Not that preparation is bad, but that preparation has LIMITS. At some point, gathering more information stops being a way to solve a problem and becomes a way to avoid sitting with uncertainty.

I don’t actually have the power to make everything work out. (Unfortunately.)

What I do have is the ability to make thoughtful decisions with the information I have, love the people (and dog) entrusted to me, and take the next step when it appears.

The uncertainty remains, but I’m going to make more of an effort to trust that I can handle it—and that it’s not all mine to solve.