If you go to the top of my home page, you’ll see a page about my book. The book I’m supposed to be writing. Supposed to have written by now, more likely.
We were tweaking the proposal. Which was really good, but the sample chapter maybe wasn’t the perfect subject matter for a proposal. We were on a roll. Then it happened.
I gave birth.
That was eight months ago. Now. I need a little time off. I do. I need to enoy the baby and wrap my head around the existence of said baby. And the fact that I don’t have to TTC any more. Ever. I hope. But the other thing is that becoming a gestational mom while writing a book about non-gestational co-moms (for lack of a more romantic, less syllabic term) kind of puts a kink in things. It has been almost impossible to step outside of the biology of my motherhood. Does that make any sense? I think, once I get a little more distance from the birth, having given birth will actually make me write a better book. There are so many things about being a gestational mom that I overlooked before. Being the one who did not give birth was mostly awesome (and not in a valley girl way, in a full-of-awe way) but also difficult emotionally. Being the one who gave birth was difficult mostly physically. But because it is also hormonal and at least for the first year or so, so tied to my mammary glands, it was also emotional in a way over which I feel I have no control. Now I understand how hard it is to give your partner the time and space she needs with the baby. I do it. But I also see why some women have a hard time with it. The funny thing is, my honey is way less sensitive about it than I am. I guess because I’m “writing the book.”
So that’s it. For now, I’m writing the book, but I make little quotation marks around it with my fingers when I say it out loud. I will go back full-force. It needs to be written. I need to write it. For real.