When I think about Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Jane Austen, C.S. Lewis I never think of them as a brand. I never read their works and think to myself “I can’t wait to read the twitter commentary and the Jezebel think pieces!” I place the book down and think about the story. I think about the life I have lived through sharing this story. I consider the beautiful words that created this story. The story was an experience. I was living for those moments and nothing else. I stayed up way too late to finish one more page, one more chapter, one more act. When did stories and authors become brands? I know that I have engaged in twitter universe madness when it was about my favorite comic book characters, my favorite fantasy. George R.R. Martin, J.K. Rowling. Yet, I never engaged in this kind of social media cage match with my favorite romance novelist. I could give a damn about what twitter has to say about Nora Roberts or Diana Gabaldon or Danielle Steele. I am sure all of those authors have an online presence but I don’t care. Is this intentional on their part or simply a product of their writing and genre?
The Birth of my son was an amazing moment in my life. It was a peak experience. How else can you describe feeling so close to God? Creation has only convinced me more of the love God has for every single one of us. He created us!
Yet, right after that moment, I had a very frightening episode: severe preeclampsia. I was swiftly taken to another room. I was strapped into monitors, my arms and legs were placed in casings, monitors all around me, no food, only clear liquids, 24 hours of treatment and observation. The medications made me lethargic and only slightly grounded in reality. My only thought was 24 hours. 24 hours and then I can see my baby.
I am writing this blog, so you know what happened. The saints and the angels were with me. I survived. Baby and I are together all day at home. There are moments the exhaustion is profound. There are moments of anxiety when my mind is conjuring a million worst case scenarios. There are moments when I look in the mirror and wonder where the glamorous lady has gone. Still, more than any of that, I feel like I am thriving with a renewed sense of purpose. Many people mentioned postpartum depression to me and my husband. No one ever mentioned postpartum power to me. I feel like a strong mama bear that will and can protect her cub from anything. It’s like every comic book you ever loved. Super powers have arrived. Let the transformation commence!