Many of you. That phrase makes it sound to some like I’m famous, which I am not, regardless of what a fellow member of the human race texted me yesterday about “k*king for fame and money.” This was their spelling and wording, not mine, and while I didn’t care to wade into the urban dictionary for their meaning, I caught their drift. This blog, Youtube channel and social media community in all its non-niched lack of glory, has been shaped, by me looking for friends in a time when I seemed to always be housebound for one reason or another and craving community. And I suppose friendship includes attention. I pay attention to you and you pay attention to me, otherwise are we really friends? So technically, the person is right I guess.
You were my friends when we were only able to afford one car for cash during those early years of figuring out our finances. My Drew did whatever he could to allow me to fulfill my dream of staying home to breastfeed and bond with my littles, and having one car made sense. You were my friends during chronic illness flareups that accompanied each pregnancy. You were my friends during government health restrictions. You were my friends, when I was bound to a NICU room for 12 weeks with an infant who grew chubbier each day, making the diminutive nature of her fun-sized life ever the more blindsiding.
For one reason or another, it has been years that getting around others in real life, has happened less often than is ideal (even though I’m more introverted than most, no man is an island). Not to mention, being a part of clubs and choirs has been nonexistent. Many of you are in the same place, many of you are not. Either way, we became friends or acquaintances. In real life friends are beyond price, and I keep thinking, after this hump, I’ll be able to be involved in real life community again more often. In fact, on the days my c-section and EDS pain don’t have me tied down, its starting to happen! I tell you what, though, my internet friends sure have filled the gap and made a difference.
This hulking tangent is likely born from the hurt of receiving that stream of texts from someone who does not know me but thinks that they do. The person also threatened to sue if I use the texts “as a script” for my social media which they legally cannot do, so I guess I am risking more craptastrophy by publishing this much- as if the year hasn’t had enough trouble. To think you can utter a cvs receipt of profanities of a freshly bereaved mother (or any human for that matter) and then turn around and sue them for it is a laughable fairytale, but I digress again. Thank you to everyone who came and gave me attention, bringing joy to what could have otherwise been acidic seclusion.
Many of you came around when I was sharing my most recent book writing journey “The Motherly Art of Lying In- my experience practicing the Levitical health code after giving birth,” For those of you who are new around here, in a nutshell, the Israelite woman was instructed to have a maternity leave of sorts- 40 days for a boy and 80 days for a girl (Leviticus 12). You encouraged me greatly and told me how excited you were to read my book. You knew I had finished the book and you kept checking back with me to see if I had moved forward on publishing. I wanted to try traditional publishing before the self publishing route– you begged me to self publish, so you could get your hands on it.
I dragged my feet. I pitched it to one literary agent and was in truth, giddy when I received my first rejection letter. It was a milestone! How many can say they have received a rejection letter for their book? It meant that I was farther along in my dream of sharing this book with you. Then I dragged my feet some more. I got distracted. I didn’t want to feel rejection from my favorite publishing company. It was a bit odd, because rejection doesn’t trouble me as a rule. This time it did. Then I fell pregnant with Glory.
Then I fell pregnant with Glory.
Then I fell pregnant with Glory. And now she’s gone. I now know why I was unable to publish the book before. I hadn’t given birth to Glory yet. I learned from Glory’s birth and death, truths and principles that made my contemplation of God’s law on the subject of women and child birth all the pleasanter. I had not yet had a hospital birth when I finished the first draft of the book. I had not yet had a c-section where you do not get to go rest up, but instead you get to stand at the bedside of your blessing in the NICU with fresh knife wounds to the abdomen. I had not yet given birth only to have a surgeon come to my bedside and offer to not perform the first surgery that would give her a chance at living more than a day even though he was sure the surgery would be successful (say what?). I had not yet met the second surgeon, ignorant to the jurisdiction of parenthood, who refused three times to give us a minute alone with her the first time I saw her in the NICU that would be her final home. Knowing we may not have much time with her on this earth, I had wanted to give her some sacred minutes with me to bond with her while she was as fresh as possible to this world. That wasn’t allowed without me asking three times and finally begging.
I had to walk away and come back after writing the last angering sentence. Thank God for pastors and biblically based therapy- which I haven’t done yet, but I promise I’ll get to it?
I had not had to bury a 12 week old child when I first finished the book. Now I need to write a new chapter.
The first 40-80 days in postpartum healing are so helpful, but what do you do when that’s not an option? Do you just accept the fate of a diastases recti that is torn wide open for way too long and a c-section that is sore as you get back to normal daily life? May it never be. It is never too late for healing, and that is what my next chapter will be about.
I pray for God’s courage to publish it no matter what my enemies text me about my motives, but in the meantime, please do yourself a favor. If you have physical problems due to pregnancy, no matter how many years after the fact it happens to be, will you please check out Fit2b!!! Full disclosure, it is an affiliate link. It has been such a great program to help me heal postpartum, and learn buckets of tools against the myths that accompany becoming a mother. If this sounds like something that could help you, it also supports the blog and I have nothing but gratitude for that despite what the dear saint who texted me yesterday thinks. I desperately want so many more women to have access to such a helpful program. Five pregnancies and I do not have more than a 2 finger gap in my tummy at this time and I have NEVER piddled my pants. That’s not an accident. Pun intended.
It is never too late to heal, and I have had to be more creative in that process this time around. My newest chapters will cover this, but you know I am an open book and my comment section is open for questions. My grief has been up and down, so thank you for your patience with me while I try to answer as soon as possible. Especially questions from a postpartum mama or mama to be.
This community has been so good to me. Thank you for all your support. You have been faithful to pray for me through one of the hardest times of my life. I ask you this one favor more. Keep praying for me. Will you keep hounding me till The Motherly Art of Lying In is written and published? Should I call it TMAL for short? Even if I have to (AHEM) settle for self publishing, I want to get this to you and it would do my mama heart good for Glory’s life to live up to her name through this. Ok, so that is probably more than one favor. Its two. Pray for me and hound me to get this book published. Its all but finished- one or two chapters on healing through the NICU and c-sections should be a breeze to add. In fact I have already written them, but now I get to edit them with first hand experience. Glory be to God and glory be to God.