My husband and I have been married for ten years (eleven years in August.) My husband and I suffered three miscarriages and immeasurable heartache in the five years we were actively trying to conceive. My husband and I couldn’t afford fertility treatments. If it were going to happen it was going to be the old fashion way. (It did…eventually.) My husband and I are expecting our third child in three years in May. My husband and I adore our little ones.
However, being an author is hard. Not where you thought this post was going? Bear with me. It all comes full circle.
In conventional ways, being a mother and being an author overlap each other by way of time. If I have time to write one of two things have happened. Either my husband has taken our darlings and whisked them away so I can have some quiet time or it is after hours, they are sleeping, and I should be too. To describe the oddity of waking up to the sound of your fingers typing is to live outside your body at all times.
There. I admitted it. I’m a sorceress. I can wrestle with house and husband and children all day and write romance stories in my sleep. Of course that would be first draft, pre-edit writing. What can I say? There are limits to my powers.
As I write this, there is a little darling nursing themselves to sleep in my lap. I should be weaning and I am sort of. Also, I should be editing, and I am. Sort of. Story of my life really.I am always trying to find the delicate balance between getting the job done directly in front of me and the one just inches from my face. Multitasking has its perks, but it also has its pitfalls. Namely everything always feels almost finished in my world, but not quite done.
I am not always up to embracing the challenges that come from mothering and authoring. Mainly, because I’m exhausted. I never feel like I’m doing it right, and at least half the time I’m just doing something I read somewhere. I’m not going to be too hard on myself about that. I read some really good shit.
I’ve had to learn that winging it is absolutely as powerful as knowing exactly what must be done and doing it. As knowing what must be written and writing it. I’ve had to learn that somethings don’t balance the way you want them to, but there is growth in juggling. I’ve realized that it is okay to take two hard things and admit they are hard while still getting them done.
When the doctor told me my first born existed, I was in denial. I called him a liar and spent the next fourteen weeks in disbelief. It was a similar experience when I was first encouraged to write for a living. I knew the work I’d put in silently to have these dreams come true, and it felt like I was being mocked to have someone tell me they were possible.
I’ve failed so many times. I would see the finished line only to have it extended another hundred miles. I didn’t want to hear that it would happen in time or keep going or any of the anecdotes and phrases that currently keep me alive.I wanted something tangible to convince me that what I desired could be real.
Here I am touching them both.(Finally.) Albeit, I am definitely becoming more successful at one than the other at a much faster pace. 😉
I say all this, because today has been difficult. This last week has easily cemented itself as one of the hardest of my life. I’ve had to sit quietly and come clean with myself on a slew of very personal things. I questioned whether I should be doing this-right now. Motherhood is permanent for me, but authorhood was on the verge of elimination. When I am crumbling, I have to get light. This is my way.
At the end of the day, I had to buck up. I had to think of how long I’d been fighting for the reality that I am living right now. I had to remember, everyday I am living an ideal life that I wanted and didn’t achieve until now. The reality is I’ve waited too long for the opportunities that I am seeing unfold. I don’t want my unraveling to destroy all that I am working to build.
Then, there is the matter of my children. The is the matter of what I want them to believe about their mother and about life. We don’t give up, just because something is hard. I say that to them all the time. Particularly, my eldest who is fascinated by everything but sometimes intimidated if she doesn’t get it on the first try. I need them to see that difficulty is sometimes the catalyst we need to release fear and get it done.
So I fight through my uncertainty, my anxiety, and depression. I venture forward to prove it can be done. That I an survive my own thoughts and accomplish something great.
I am #mamaauthor. I am two thins I once believed I would never be and it is terrifying. It is also beautiful and it motivates me to keep believing impossible things can happen.