Since I could hold a pencil, I’ve been drawn to the written word. My words, made permanent, just by the act of putting pencil to paper. A part of me that will remain long after my physical body has perished. Writing helps me to measure and weigh my thoughts, feelings, and desires. To clear my headspace and move things around—the perfect choice of words, reordering sentences or paragraphs based on my priorities—and to look at things differently than I did when they were floating around the ether of my mind. In my blog, I write about myself, my experiences, my emotions, and that yearning, the physical, biological, primal need to call myself by a new name: mother.
I’m new to blogging, but I see it as a natural extension of years of keeping journals. Only this is a very public space to document my every thought, which makes it a little bit scary. A little bit brave. And that’s what I want in my writing—a fearlessness and honesty that transcends my experiences and translates to the human experience. I strive for this in my poetry as well, and I have an idea—a big idea—for a novel based, at least in part, on the lives of my sisters and me, growing up in a family that is both unlike anyone else’s and exactly like everyone else’s. In my blog, I write about our infertility and how this affects me, my relationships, and my hopes for the future. Many of my poems have been centered on this theme lately. It is part of who I am, and it comes out in my writing. Maybe my novel will include characters dealing with this particular struggle, too. Because it’s not something I can hide from or pretend away.
I have a voice. Not just for infertility, although I think it’s important to give this issue as many voices as we can lend. My voice speaks to struggles of all kinds. To growing up poor, to seeking education and a level of success beyond the experience of my parents, to setting out on my own, to discovering who I am. I have stories to tell. Stories about myself that are told in my blog or poetry. And stories of the wider world. My novel will be the story of a family, but also of the choices we make in our search for independence, of the relationships that shape who we are, of where our loyalties lie. These are the stories we live every day, and I am compelled to put them into words, made permanent by the stroke of a key, by the click of the “publish” button.