It is safe to say that I can't be sure why I am starting a blog. Last year, in the midst of massive panic attacks that followed a high risk pregnancy, giving birth to my son at 29 weeks, a lengthy NICU stay, and caring for a baby on oxygen, I started writing about my paralyzing fear, my love for this little being, my struggle to keep my head even remotely above the surface of the ocean that was threatening to drown me. And I began to heal. I have lived the life of an athlete, a drunk and a drug addict, and a woman in recovery. I thought I knew struggle. Never before had I felt the kind of indescribable terror that I experienced in those moments following the traumatic birth of my son. And never have I been so pulled to speak what is real, what is true. I hope that in sharing my innermost vulnerabilities, I might be able to fully heal, to help someone else calm the furious storm within, and to fulfill a greater purpose for my life.
In the darkest moments of my 32 year journey, I have asked, why. Why is this happening to me.
I have passionately resented those who suggested that I walk through the darkness so that I may reach out my hand and pull someone else into the light.
I now hope they were right. Maybe this is my chance. Our chance. Maybe this is how we all come together. And heal.
My hope is to not only write about motherhood, but all of it. Life. The ugly, gritty ways we pull ourselves through by the skin of our teeth, and what we find on the other side of those tunnels we never thought we'd make it through.
I hope you'll join me in whatever it is I'm doing here. It might be messy, but it seems that it's always worth it.