Months, now. Months! Months since I’ve written anything here, since I’ve become a mother, since I’ve had the time (really) to sit down and write something.
Oops, baby is crying. Brb.
Ok. Thanks, technology… I’m writing on my phone while the baby is nursing / falling back asleep.
What, oh what to write about? Do I have time to tell you my birth story? Do I want to write about how motherhood is changing me? Do I have the courage to write at all?
Suffice it to say, there’s a lot holding me back from writing right now, not least of which is the idea that I need to have something “worth” writing about. Let’s get ourselves away from that lie, shall we?
Because life is short and it’s made up of a trillion little “worthless” moments that all stack up to be something pretty damn incredible and I just had a three-month-old baby spit up into my clevage and simultaneously poop into his diaper and it’s all amazingly so very worth it.
And I’m still typing because dammit, it’s better to tell your story as it is than to wait for it to be remarkable. Because it already is remarkable.
Our lives are the shitty first drafts that we have the courage to show others who love us (and those who don’t, too).
So write something quick instead of writing nothing at all.