Remember when you were a kid and you kept a journal? Well, I did anyway. I kept many. In fact, for the past few decades I’ve toted around boxes full of journals (across the country and back– more than once) that I’ve written in starting around 9 year old. Some years I’d stop and then I’d get back in a groove again. I notice that when things were pretty easy and life was humming along without incident, I wrote less– if at all. When there were bigger events in my life, well then, I wrote to process it all. As a way to make sense of, and ultimately be powerful with whatever was happening.
That’s sort of what this blog is like– now. Initially though, I started it as a way to capture what was happening day to day to keep my mom and family in the loop. Then I wanted a few friends in the loop too. Then it became useful for a a few more friends (or even friends of friends) trying to conceive or who were pregnant or having (or had) a traumatic or difficult pregnancy.
As I reflect on it’s content, I realize this blog has been my personal journal; like in the past, it’s been my place to process in written form this big event in my life. A place to bear all about how getting pregnant and my pregnancy itself has been. The joyful, the sacred and yes, the very difficult. It just so happens that a close circle of peeps get let in on this one.
Still, I can’t help but feel like sometimes maybe it occurs to the reader (much like when I look back and read my journals from when I was 15 and read only the drama and angst of a teen girl) that this portion of my life is miserable. That I am nothing more than just one big complaint. While in truth some days I CAN be just one big complaint, that’s certainly not all that I am and certainly not all that I experience. And I hope, HOPE, hope, that is known and inherently understood by all those reading these pages.
Without the writing and processing, I think I’d be suffering greatly. Even though it may look like I am suffering greatly (and some days I am) because it may be most of what you read, it’s not the total make-up of my being, my body, my pysche or my experience. In fact, after I write, I often feel lighter, elated, joyful. I always mean to write again during those times and then before I know it, another hurdle comes up and again I’m processing in written form. 🙂 And so it goes.
So, just for the record (or perhaps, just my own peace of mind- or hell, perhaps my ego) and for a little context-setting, I am happy and well. Totally savoring each day of this pregnancy and wildly blissed out. Every day I say to Gina, “I get to do this!” Or, “Wow. Can you believe I’m actually THIS pregnant?” or , “We get TWO!” I am living present in each moment, each day fully feeling it ALL, knowing THIS place (be it painful or joyful or both) is exactly where I need to be. Exactly where I want to be– even on the worst of days. I trust in my humanity and in the total perfection of this totally imperfect life.
That’s all for now.
With love,
regina
xoxo