Something I wish were not true about life, or at least about me: when I am hurting, no amount of coffee, Zoloft, wine, endorphins or dark chocolate will do it; the only thing that truly helps is creating art out of the pain. At least I’ll have something beautiful to show for what I’ve gone through, right?
That’s why, after grad school I moved as fast as I could to San Francisco, that city by the sea that will always have my heart, to find other humans who have already realized that about themselves and fully embrace it. In San Francisco, practically every person is a walking work of art. Do you have hair? Dye it. Do you have skin? Paint it. Do you have something you want to express about the world–then build, sculpt, photograph, compose, dance, sing, write, or be a friend like it’s a work of art, because human relationships truly are the greatest collaborative form of art.
Since we left SF and had EV, my heart’s art quota has definitely not been met, and quite frankly, depleted. A dear friend asked me while I was pregnant what I had written recently because he knows that’s a core part of who I am, and I told him, “I’m growing a human! I don’t have the bandwidth for creativity right now.” I couldn’t believe I said that out loud, but it was true. Never before had I felt that way in my life. It turns out, I was about to embark on a lifelong journey full of a lot of “never befores”…that we are still in the middle of figuring out!
All that to say, I haven’t been blogging recently because I found myself at another low point and I didn’t have anything to say that I could say in prose. When that happens, only poetry will suffice. Usually, I don’t share my poetry with anyone (except my mom, once in a while), but this whole process of experiencing a Perinatal Mood & Anxiety Disorder and walking alongside other women (and men) who have also gone through it has cracked the door open for me. Everyone is ridiculously isolated because no one is talking about what’s going on, and that’s not ok.
I’d like to change that.
I’ve always been amazed by how a sliver of vulnerability from one person can begin to open up another person. If one person is brave enough to share, and nothing bad happens, maybe someone else will be freed from fear and feel able to share, too. And maybe if we can share what’s going truly going on with us, then we’ll be able to find the support and the healing we need.
So this time, I’m doing something I’ve never done before and I’m publishing my poetry with the hope that some of the imagery will resonate with some people to help them understand what many, many parents go through, or to help at least one person feel like she is not alone and that she will make it through. (Thank God for Amazon self-publishing! It’s my new favorite thing!) Here’s where I need your help…
For the title of this book of poetry, I’m debating between the titles of two of the poems, “I Gave Birth to My Heart” or “Motherhood, Reimagined.” What’s your vote? 🙂
o do to your already impossible to-do list. But oh, do you need it. Who else can you commiserate with about the poop you didn’t know was on your shirt but kept smelling for three whole hours, until the sun came up and you went outside to walk the dog? Who else cares about which stroller/carseat/baby-wearing-thingamajig you should buy except another parent who has also spent too many hours to count researching these things and secretly feels superior for choosing the perfect product for her precious infant’s needs? When you want someone to laugh at the adorable thing your baby did this morning, like cooing all the vowels along with you, or cry with you about how much breastfeeding hurts like a mother, it’s going to be your mom friends, all the way.
sistent and ride it out. You really like each other, but if your baby takes two naps exactly in the space between her baby’s three naps, you’re left with a half hour right after you wake up or before they go to bed to get together; it ain’t gonna happen. So there are some losses along the way, too, but I still maintain that being able to text an encouraging message or a “help!” or a “what do you think?” is way more valuable than nothing at all. In other words, in my opinion, no amount of investment in a mom friend will be wasted if it helps you feel less alone. And eventually, their naps will realign.
ime.” Sometimes, as a mama, you’re not sure how you’re going to get through the next hour, let alone the whole day! 
