I don't have words to describe it. But this week, the writing workshop and the Gallery have teamed up, so maybe I have a fighting chance of conveying to you the most emotional experience of my life.
You see I had started to fear that I was too old, that I had inadvertently made an accidental 'choice' not to have children.
You tried to join us a couple of times, but I couldn't hold onto you.
The third time, despite the big belly, clearly possessed with some kind of life form, despite my in depth reading and detailed preparation, I don't think I truly believed that it was going to happen, that I was going to become a mother.
Then you arrived.
Women become mothers every moment of every day. It is so profound but yet so ordinary. Then it happens to you. Every phrase used to describe it is a cliche. I feel comforted by that. A cliche lets you know that an experience that knocks you sideways, that scrambles and purifies your whole individual world has happened before, and has been happening over and over since time immemorial. The experience is not unique, it is shared.
a post for the writing workshop and the gallery