The miscarriage, the D&C, and everything that has happened has consumed so much of my life, so much of my writing. Rightly so. It was something so unexpected and painful.
I feel split, one moment all I want to talk about is the frustrating pain and in the next moment I want talk about something–anything–else.
I am vacillating between the past and the future, figuring out who I am. Wanting to write about this and that but feeling stuck in the anger that often pours out of my fingers. Draft after draft is saved, waiting for me to retry.
I am learning to sift out which writing goes where. Updates in the family blog; emotional outbursts in my journal; other stuff here. The problem is, what is other? Is it motherhood? Social awareness? Philosophy? Is it one or the other, or can it be all?
Motherhood is my occupation, yet it isn’t all that I think about. Sure, my kids consume much of my thoughts, but in those silent minutes, the in-between-minutes, my mind is whirring. Questioning this author’s claims, that reporter’s conclusions, and why I didn’t take more science courses.
It seems that my blogging identity hangs on my decision. Will I lose all my friends if I discuss those things I am passionate about? Or, will they appreciate my authenticity in pursuing these subjects? I don’t know the answer to this.
But I am willing to find out.