Write about something presently in your life that is "worth it."
I believe everything happens for a reason, that with every bad situation, some good comes from it. So, with that mentality, I try to remind myself that all the struggles, weaknesses, and turmoil I experience are ultimately worth it in the end.
The struggle to get and stay pregnant was worth it. I have a beautiful baby boy. The second time, there was no infertility, as Jonah was a bit of an oops. But the pregnancy was even more difficult than Noah's with pre-term labor and gestational diabetes starting at around seventeen weeks. That time, I had a sick baby on top of the hard pregnancy. It wasn't like I could really be on bed rest like I needed to be.
One day, I had been at the doctor. I didn't take my afternoon medication with me because I knew I was going straight home. As I was getting Noah out of the stroller, his GJ (feeding) tube got caught on the strap of the stroller, dislodging it. Not only was he screaming in pain, but with the J going into the intestines, it could potentially perforate the bowel if it becomes dislodged. It's a bit of a medical emergency when it happens the way it did that day.
Noah was holding his stomach the whole way to the hospital, screaming. And the hospital we needed to be at was an hour away. I drove so fast that day.
When we got to the doctor's office, he realized he couldn't fix it, but at that point, I'd not had food for lunch. He told his nurse to give me her sandwich, that he'd buy her a different lunch. After that, I headed to the hospital. They had a death in interventional radiology, where they change the tube, so we had to wait about four hours. My baby couldn't eat during that time. He was in pain. And I started having massive contractions. Every five minutes.
When we were done, we went back to the pediatrician's office for something - can't remember what. After I told him what was going on with the pregnancy, he told me to call my doctor and find out what hospital to go to, but to go to one. I was bleeding, and that meant my cervix was changing.
My doctor told me to come back to Augusta. Chad met me there so he could watch Noah. My contractions were actually two minutes apart. I'd gone from a fingertip that morning to two and a half centimeters. I got admitted, and I was told we were having a baby.
But because of the gestational diabetes, the doctor told them to try to hydrate me (no doubt I was dry because I'd barely had food or drink all day). They gave me a sleeping pill. Someone came to get Noah. I don't remember talking to my dad on the phone. I don't remember much after that, really.
Just that the next day, I'd gone back to being a fingertip and sent home. Was that worth it? Yeah. It was. A couple of weeks later, I had a healthy baby boy. And Noah's needs were met.
Another instance is when we left all our family and friends to move to Atlanta in hopes of better medical care and schooling for the kids. It has come with significant financial and emotional sacrifice, but every meeting I have with the school where I'm embraced and Noah's supported, lets me know everything we've lost along the way to get here was worth it.
Right now, the thing that is requiring the biggest sacrifice in my life is writing. It's the source of all the conflict in my marriage, in my house. See, I have severe ADHD. I take hyper-focusing to a new level. On top of that, I can't stand to start something and not finish it in one sitting. That's pretty laughable since I write long novels. They certainly can't be completed in one sitting. But that drives me nuts, so I end up trying to write every minute, every hour of the day sometimes. Granted, I still take care of my kids, but sometimes, family time is sacrificed so I can write. Okay. A lot.
My husband gets frustrated because he sees how high my hopes get with each new book, and he knows the higher the hopes the longer the fall if it doesn't do well. He's watched me ride this roller coaster of ups and downs. It pains him to see me hurt, and there's a lot of hurt in this writing business.
Rejections from agents and publishers, negative reviews, losing people you thought were your friends, and the list goes on and on. It's not just writing the book. It's so much more.
Every time we get into an argument about my writing, I always say, "All that is worth it to me. I'll suffer through that for the feeling I get when characters come in my head and I can translate their story for them."
Unless you're a writer, it may be hard to understand. This is a dream I didn't even know I had for most of my life. Well, all but the last three and a half years. And now that I've found that I have this ability, I'm not willing to part with it. All the negatives that come with it are worth it in the end when I'm looking at a bookshelf lined with all of my titles. And now one that has my child's name on it.
Of course, what won't be worth it is if I lose my husband, so it's a constant struggle to find balance and better manage my time. Those are two of my biggest weaknesses.
So, writing. It's not just worth it for me. It's essential to who I am. I can't even begin to imagine a life where I'm not able to express my thoughts with the written word.
Thank you for reading my ramblings, for giving me an audience and platform to share my stories - the personal and fictional ones.
The struggle to get and stay pregnant was worth it. I have a beautiful baby boy. The second time, there was no infertility, as Jonah was a bit of an oops. But the pregnancy was even more difficult than Noah's with pre-term labor and gestational diabetes starting at around seventeen weeks. That time, I had a sick baby on top of the hard pregnancy. It wasn't like I could really be on bed rest like I needed to be.
One day, I had been at the doctor. I didn't take my afternoon medication with me because I knew I was going straight home. As I was getting Noah out of the stroller, his GJ (feeding) tube got caught on the strap of the stroller, dislodging it. Not only was he screaming in pain, but with the J going into the intestines, it could potentially perforate the bowel if it becomes dislodged. It's a bit of a medical emergency when it happens the way it did that day.
Noah was holding his stomach the whole way to the hospital, screaming. And the hospital we needed to be at was an hour away. I drove so fast that day.
When we got to the doctor's office, he realized he couldn't fix it, but at that point, I'd not had food for lunch. He told his nurse to give me her sandwich, that he'd buy her a different lunch. After that, I headed to the hospital. They had a death in interventional radiology, where they change the tube, so we had to wait about four hours. My baby couldn't eat during that time. He was in pain. And I started having massive contractions. Every five minutes.
When we were done, we went back to the pediatrician's office for something - can't remember what. After I told him what was going on with the pregnancy, he told me to call my doctor and find out what hospital to go to, but to go to one. I was bleeding, and that meant my cervix was changing.
My doctor told me to come back to Augusta. Chad met me there so he could watch Noah. My contractions were actually two minutes apart. I'd gone from a fingertip that morning to two and a half centimeters. I got admitted, and I was told we were having a baby.
But because of the gestational diabetes, the doctor told them to try to hydrate me (no doubt I was dry because I'd barely had food or drink all day). They gave me a sleeping pill. Someone came to get Noah. I don't remember talking to my dad on the phone. I don't remember much after that, really.
Just that the next day, I'd gone back to being a fingertip and sent home. Was that worth it? Yeah. It was. A couple of weeks later, I had a healthy baby boy. And Noah's needs were met.
Another instance is when we left all our family and friends to move to Atlanta in hopes of better medical care and schooling for the kids. It has come with significant financial and emotional sacrifice, but every meeting I have with the school where I'm embraced and Noah's supported, lets me know everything we've lost along the way to get here was worth it.
Right now, the thing that is requiring the biggest sacrifice in my life is writing. It's the source of all the conflict in my marriage, in my house. See, I have severe ADHD. I take hyper-focusing to a new level. On top of that, I can't stand to start something and not finish it in one sitting. That's pretty laughable since I write long novels. They certainly can't be completed in one sitting. But that drives me nuts, so I end up trying to write every minute, every hour of the day sometimes. Granted, I still take care of my kids, but sometimes, family time is sacrificed so I can write. Okay. A lot.
My husband gets frustrated because he sees how high my hopes get with each new book, and he knows the higher the hopes the longer the fall if it doesn't do well. He's watched me ride this roller coaster of ups and downs. It pains him to see me hurt, and there's a lot of hurt in this writing business.
Rejections from agents and publishers, negative reviews, losing people you thought were your friends, and the list goes on and on. It's not just writing the book. It's so much more.
Every time we get into an argument about my writing, I always say, "All that is worth it to me. I'll suffer through that for the feeling I get when characters come in my head and I can translate their story for them."
Unless you're a writer, it may be hard to understand. This is a dream I didn't even know I had for most of my life. Well, all but the last three and a half years. And now that I've found that I have this ability, I'm not willing to part with it. All the negatives that come with it are worth it in the end when I'm looking at a bookshelf lined with all of my titles. And now one that has my child's name on it.
Of course, what won't be worth it is if I lose my husband, so it's a constant struggle to find balance and better manage my time. Those are two of my biggest weaknesses.
So, writing. It's not just worth it for me. It's essential to who I am. I can't even begin to imagine a life where I'm not able to express my thoughts with the written word.
Thank you for reading my ramblings, for giving me an audience and platform to share my stories - the personal and fictional ones.