I've been doing a lot of writing lately, a lot of planning, a lot of dreaming and a lot of worrying. And through it all, I've been silent here on my little corner of the web. Those of my gardenblogging pals who are on Twitter have some idea of what's been going through my mind: they've seen some whininess, some signs of stress, and a whole lot of me trying to figure out what comes next.
There's so much I could be sharing with you guys: the fact that the garden is a cacophany of color, that every spring-flowering plant in my landscape is blooming simultaneously: tulips, daffs, forsythias, Bradford pears, muscari, bleeding hearts---you name it, it's blooming. Of course, not in time for Bloom Day, but blooming just the same. I could be sharing my wintersown successes with you, and my tomato failures. But every time I've sat down to write a post, there's a little voice in the back of my mind, reminding me that right now, time is precious. Right now, I have editors and clients who pay my bills waiting for the work I've promised them. Right now, my kids are experiencing their last few days as the "dynamic duo," and have lots of questions about what having a new person in our family will mean. Right now, I have a few spare moments to snuggle and talk politics with my husband at the end of our day. Something had to give, and ITGO did.
But I'm here now, and I'm posting, damn it, because the next time you hear from me I'll be a different person. Not just the small changes that happen day by day, but the kind of change that is wonderful and terrifying all at the same time. I've been thinking about how each of my children has changed my life, and how I've changed in the five years since becoming pregnant with Emily.
When I found out that Emily was coming, I was working full time as a technology assistant in a public elementary school. I loved the kids, I loved my job. Roger and I had just started looking for our first house, and we lived like typical childless couples: plenty of dining out, movies, and just general hanging out. I dreamed of being a novelist, maybe (definitely) fantasized about being interviewed by Oprah someday. Once Emily came, I was a full-time mom who wrote two novels during baby's nap time. They both sucked, but I loved being a mom, and it felt amazing to have a family of my own.
We found out that Sarah was coming when Emily was 3 months old. Yeah, surprise! Oddly enough, I was calm. Being a mom came easily to me, and I felt ready to give my all to daughter #2. Life dealt with my smugness in its own way. I developed some scary health complications during my pregnancy, and Sarah spent two weeks in the NICU. But she was perfect, and our family grew.
Shortly after, my first piece of nonfiction writing appeared in a small magazine called 'Birds & Blooms.' It was an essay about the addictive quality of seed starting, and I got $400 for it. I fell inlove with not just writing, but with actually having someone read what I wrote. I knew I wanted more. So In the Garden Online was born. First a few articles, and then a blog, which is how I met all of you. And I can't even begin to express how much every one of you has enriched my life. Every time you comment, or email, or link to me, I'm amazed. Thank you---you guys play a huge part in what came next.
All of a sudden, I felt a confidence I'd never felt before. I had something to say, and, holy shit, people cared enough to read it. I started submitting articles, and doing small writing jobs, and working for pennies. I was a writer, and every time someone paid for something I wrote (still, when people pay for something I write...) I can't quite believe it. Family-wise, things went smoothly---our house was full of noise and love, even if money was tight. We suffered through a miscarriage that, looking back now, may very well have been one of those blessings in disguise.
The writing and editing took off. I make more now, sitting in the living room or writing on the patio, than I ever did working 9 to 5. I feel like I'm dreaming a lot of the time. Even when I'm overworked, I'm happy. And now we're expecting Elizabeth, daughter #3, and the last child we'll be having for quite a while. I couldn't be more excited, but at the same time (for the first time in my time as a mom) I'm wondering how I'm going to do it all. Can I do it? Can I be the mom, wife, writer, person I need to be? Is it possible to give my all to everyone, and, if I do, will there be anything left for me? Can I continue to grow, can my newfound writing career continue to flourish, while I devote myself to the four people who mean the most to me in this world? And is it selfish to not want to give up any of my own dreams for the good of my family?
Now you see why I haven't been posting very often
There's a lot going on, physically and emotionally. I wanted to let you all in on what I'm thinking, and, I guess, maybe I wanted to capture this transition of my life for posterity. Monday morning, I'll go to St. John's Hospital in Detroit to be induced and we'll officially be a family of 5. I'm elated, anxious, impatient, and wishing I had a little more time, all at once. The next time you hear from me, we'll have welcomed another child into the world, and I'll be in the next phase of the grand adventure of my life.
Until then, take care, keep growing, and don't forget to take joy in the little things.
