Hello out there!!!
With spring finally here, and my littlest peanut already seven months old, I’m finally stepping out of my winter/new-mom hibernation and sketching out my seven-book series. It feels good to be back in the saddle after becoming a mom again, and experiencing this magical transformation for a second time.
Becoming a mother for the first time (four years ago) was an absolute rebirth for me. It dug up the deepest layers of myself and brought absolute gold to the surface; a magical, heart-wrenching, spiritual, beautiful experience. After my son was born, I used to tell my husband that it felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest, and absolutely shredded, broken down, torn up, because it was growing, changing, evolving into something bigger and better, like a worked out muscle with all its fibers tearing and snapping in the process of rebuilding itself stronger. I was torn apart in love. For the entire first year, I would cry just looking at him, holding him, smelling him, flooded with such love that it overwhelmed my new-mom heart. People talk about the hormones that flood a new mom, but I never expected them to manifest in this way. Everyone warns of the negative aspects of these postpartum emotions, but nobody talks about the brilliant, transformative aspect. I never saw it coming and didn’t know what hit me. It’s biology, and the most spiritual experience I’ve ever endured; it absolutely changed me, and completely plugged me into my new purpose as mother. Suddenly, I had a reason for being. I had created this precious, vulnerable, magical little miracle, and he needed me. Suddenly nothing else mattered. It didn’t matter that I’d been underestimated in my life, that I’d been judged, criticized, diminished for various aspects of my insides or my outsides, or that I’d been emotionally abandoned by people I loved most; all this broken-people bullshit that had surrounded me for my entire life, made me feel less, made me feel worthless, defective, unloved suddenly died. And it was a beautiful, epic death. The meaningless illusions were vanquished as new life and true love burst forth like warm sunlight. My old self had died, and I was starting life all over again. I was important, I was loved on the most profound level, and my purpose was the greatest of all purposes in this world. I had just created new life, and I was now a mother. Through my child’s birth, I was reborn. I was stronger, more capable, more gifted, and more heroic than I’d ever imagined. Ever since I stepped into this new life, I’ve embraced my own personal evolution, craving it, seeking it out, and embracing any opportunity to self-reflect, grow, and change into a better version of myself. With the birth of my daughter, I am currently in the process of another incredible transformation. She has reaffirmed my purpose as mother, and has also transformed our family, shifting and stretching my son into a big brother and our threesome into a family of four with ever-evolving dynamics. This time, with the wisdom of experience, and the appreciation for what I knew was coming, I’ve been letting this transformative energy rush through me like a superhero finally receiving her powers. I love my children so much it hurts; they make me feel, experience, and appreciate absolutely everything–love, joy, fear, pain, and everything in between and beyond–and I cannot imagine living or loving any other way.
With all this new energy, vitality, love, and inspiration, my drive to create only intensifies. All of my life’s experience and passion pours out into my work in ways that never cease to surprise me. I’m always dancing with my characters, getting to know them, their settings, and what they have at stake. I’ve resumed Googling, reading, and audio-booking while living, observing, thinking, and feeling incessantly. This process involves lots of immersive day trips to Newburyport with my crew; my unceasingly supportive and inspiring husband and two littles are always up for adventure by the water. The process is grueling: people and boat watching on the marina with coffee while ruminating on future dreams with my man–my first dream come true; playing hide and seek behind trees and tag through the grassy park with my second dream come true; baby snuggles and vicarious thrills at every magical ray of sunlight, dog, and blade of grass with my third dream come true; lunching at outdoor restaurants on brick sidewalks in wrought iron chairs; walking in my characters’ footsteps through the charming streets and neighborhoods of this hidden-gem town by the sea. It’s as rough as it sounds. When I’m not out there living it, I’m doing tons of research on various essential subjects for my series, and tapping every excellent writing resource that I find. This often goes down in the car thanks to Audible and their Great Courses lineup.
Though my priority right now is my nest with my little chicks, I find stolen moments to spread my wings and take to the sky to create. With the most abundant inspiration but the least time to create, I am getting better at making every moment count. I am in no rush to move this stage along—when it’s gone and I have time again, I will want to give it all back to hear that contagious laughter, see that wonder and joy, and bask in that unconditional love all day long.
Photo courtesy of Barrett/Flickr.