It is December 9th & it is almost 9 months, to the day, since I last put fingers to keys & shared my thoughts with all of you. I am currently sitting on my couch, sipping a nice glass of pinot noir with the glow of our Christmas tree’s colored lights (I am a “WHITE LIGHTS ONLY!” convert) punctuating the peaceful & euphoric ambiance of the season. I am — finally — fully recuperated from my first run-in with c0v!d. My poor husband tested positive today. A full week after me & 6 days after our almost 5-month-old daughter. All of that in & of itself would be enough. He is currently rocking her back to sleep after she woke up from being put down the first time for some inexplicable reason.
I love this time of year; it hugs you like a warm, familiar blanket.
January, 19th 2023
I can’t be sure why I never finished the above entry. I’d like to say we were distracted by the familiar holiday season gatherings, but Christmas, & the holiday season in general, wasn’t what we expected it to be. Our girl was around 5 months old; & barely so. Too young to be protected via flu & c0v!d vaccinations. So, though so much of our lives have changed because of her, this year didn’t, socially, look much different than 2020 or 2021.
We hunkered down as a family of 5 (yes, I’m counting our doggies) in our warm & cozy home. Completely enveloped in a warm, thick down of snow.
For me, the holiday season extends past January 1st. I didn’t make resolutions this year. At least not out loud or publicly. To be honest, I never really do. While many view the new year as a turning of the page, a new leaf to be turned, for those in the depths of despair or infertility & loss, it is often another deep & cavernous yawn of hope & helplessness. ‘What’s the point?’ we, the infertiles, oft find ourselves thinking internally or even aloud. So, I just never really do. The small promises I do make myself are small & very personal. Not “personal,” as in I refuse to share, but “personal” because they are for me. My person. Nothing big, earth-shattering, shocking, or even impactful beyond my reach of, well,…me.
What I did was reflect on the past year & look ahead to what our lives will surely bring to us in the coming years with the breath of fresh air that our miracle girl is to & for us.
Through this reflection, I found myself thinking of our, mine & my husband’s slugging through years of infertility, fertility appointments & treatments, & months of disappointment, loss, & grief. Ultimately, we are just beyond spilling over with happiness, gratitude, & feelings of blessedness by the universe.
What I’d like to do moving forward, & I hope that you all stick with me through this, is chronicle my life as a mother. I have struggled with this point of this blog & my Instagram page because, for so long, it detailed loss, infertility, fertility appointments, & treatment. It was dark & black with grief & despair. Hope & helplessness. I’m not embarrassed & I do not regret what the blog & my Instagram once was. It is a marking of time that is accurate to what we were going through at the time. A mere bookmark, a worn dogear of pages, chapters, & whole sections in the long book of our lives, of our loves, of our trials & tribulations, of all that we had to (chose to) endure to end up here. In heaven. So, why feel shame about any of it? I laid our hearts & feelings, then, out for all of you to keep going & hopefully make at least one person feel less alone. There is a place for that in motherhood. Especially new motherhood. Motherhood following infertility & loss; grief & disappointment,
This blog is about hope & returning to the light. It always has been. I have just been unsure how to move forward after being blessed by the universe & science with our daughter. I didn’t know how to turn towards the warmth of the sun & let the light of it shine down upon me. Upon us. Ironically, I felt like I didn’t have the strength. Truthfully, I felt (& still do sometimes) feel immense guilt for being here. I’m constantly working to remind myself that the light was hope. Is hope. I’m living our wildest dreams inside of our hope, which is our daughter, motherhood, & parenthood. She is why we embarked upon the rugged & murky paths we had to traverse & slog through to be here.
So, welcome to motherdom. I’m glad you’re here.
But you might have to wait in line
“Bejewled” by Taylor Swift.
What’s a girl gonna do? What’s a girl gonna do?
I polish up nice
Best believe I’m still bejeweled
When I walk in the room
I can still make the whole place shimmer
~ As always, thanks so much for reading. Much love, & hope for a return of the light.
Soulstice: Return of the Light 