Every start falters.

I keep trying to find my way back to this page, but every start falters. "Mama" has arm-wrestled into submission every other identity, including writer. I will enter the way we all must, messily and imperfectly. Here, then, is one of the few things I've written at all lately: an e-mail to a newly pregnant friend...

What wonderful news ... in the spirit of Thanksgiving to be sure. :) Your words brought Dave and me great joy--and they have kept doing so, even though this response is delayed several weeks.

This is a thing with which you will likely become quite familiar next year if your new parenthood goes anything like ours: being belated at everything. Life happens at a different pace, and it sure as heck isn't set by us anymore. Right now I am breathing quietly and scrawling quickly while scrunched on my bed, fresh from the shower wearing a wet towel, one eye nervously on the baby monitor because Waika has begun to stir from his nap--his never-long-enough nap!!--and I'm trying to cram it all in: a shower, journalling, and a note of warmest congratulations to my dear sister. Breakfast/lunch/more coffee? It'll have to wait. PRIORITIES.

Oh, woman (and man), the journey on which you have embarked! It is exhausting and rewarding, life upending, terrible and terrific. I have had bouts where I thought I'd ruined my life and those where I understand that coming to know my son is only the beginning of living. I've had the darkest, most depthless depression and the highest, sweetest, most unfathomable joy. I don't know who I am anymore; I don't know who I'll yet become. It's all very glass half-empty and half-full--depends on the day.

Of course, it may be completely different for you. And this is one thing to know: the moment you admit to being pregnant, everyone's going to tell you How It Is and How It Will Be as if there's only one kind of parenting experience ever and they are the experts on the topic.

You see? I am doing that now, despite myself.

But o fuck, the baby stirs.

More later, I hope, dear friend.

xoxoxoxoxox,
May