I apologize a million bazillion times for those of you who have sent me personal emails saying, "Uh, excuse me, what's going on?" Because it isn't fair to leave people hanging on a thread in the first trimester of pregnancy. Before I go any further, let me assure you (and myself again) all is well, and like the medieval mystic woman (which one, Hildegard? Julian? Catherine?) said, "And all will be well..." That's sort of my pregnancy mantra.
My reasons for not blogging are myriad. The first is my utter EXHAUSTION (personal aside: in those pregnancy books that you can buy at your local bookstore, those ones with reassuring pictures of duckies and contemplative pregnant women sitting in rocking chairs looking saintly, they, the wise gurus of maternity, talk about how, oh, you may feel a little fatigued in early pregnancy. This is like saying that George W. is a little bit inept as a president. Get the picture?).
But more than the exhaustion, is that I don't know what this blog will be right now. I began writing as an outlet for my spiritual quest as a hospice chaplain, and I'm finding myself feeling a little sheepish at how little attention I feel I have for anything other than our family (those who are here, and he or she who will be arriving in April). And, I don't know how interested this readership is in hearing me wax poetic about the changes which pregnancy is bringing. There's part of me that says, "You know, women have been dropping kids into this world for ever and ever, it's not that revolutionary just because it's you, Christen."
I hesitate about becoming a "Mommy blogger," not because I don't find the blogs of Mom's to be phenomenally insightful and downright hilarious, but perhaps because I don't know if my writing is ever in the league that there's could be (i.e. dooce and amalah, etc.). Or perhaps because this role is still so new to me.
And on the contemplative front, I guess I feel like a contemplative sham. Perhaps I don't think I'm worthy of writing under this title, when I feel as if I have become the anti-contemplative. I'm simply too overwhelmed to do any reflecting.
So, there's my rambling wanderings which I've been playing with in my mind...and it feels better to have them in print. Even if I don't have any answers yet.
8 comments:
Ok, now I have read the rest of your posting...
I know of several blogs that I have read whose focus has changed to what it was intended to be. I think this is what makes us whole - my blog began as almost strictly knitting, but other aspects of my life crop up and have become a vital part of what I blog about.
I would not fret about any of this. Write about who you are - we want to hear about what you are experiencing.
As others respond to this posting, I bet you will find others whose blog is different than what it first intent was for.
So..... blog on!
Somehow only my second response showed up, so here is my first response, which will not show up as the first one.
Julian of Norwich is the one who said "All will be well".
I started reading your blog because I saw that you were a hospice chaplain and wanted to get 'a bird's eye view' of that vocation.
I kept reading your blog because the truth in the stories of your life--all of your life speaks into the true parts of mine.
I would miss your words.
Being filled with awe at the amazing creation inside of you doesn't pigeon-hole you into being a 'Mommy-blogger.' Keep sharing who you are, and people will keep reading, I think. ;)
(And I can't keep an 'intent' to my blog no matter how hard I try...)
Are there blog police making sure we stick to our original intent? I've followed your blog all summer and appreciated your glimpses of chaplain life and preaching. I have also followed your fertility and pregnancy news. I'm thrilled for both of your accomplishments (certification and conception). Having struggled with infertility myself, I celebrate with you. I too enjoy the realness of your blog.
No matter how much you don't want to be a mommy blogger, being a mommy will change your outlook on the world, and it will change your spiritualty. Please let us travel that journey with you.
yes i to have been following your blog. and love reading what happens. my blog i started out with what ever did not fit in my brain and now it's become sort of a journal. so things change and evlove with us as we grow and change in our lives.
I echo what the others have said, keep writing if it fills a need for you.
My own blogging, while primarily about ministry, often features snippets of other parts of my life -- including the mom-bit.
I hope you will not stop. I, for one, have been reading you since you announced the beginnings of this blog in our on line book discussion and I have been praying for just the wonderful news you are now sharing.
I would love to hear your thoughts and observations as you continue on this path -- if it feels right for you to share with us.
My only "baby" turns 21 this fall and I like being reminded about the things you are experiencing. Like that incredible fatique in the first part of pregnancy. Reading your words I remember one particular day when I spread a lovely checked table cloth on the picnic table out back prior to a family meal and wanted nothing more than to crawl up on the table and sleep on it's smooth inviting surface. The exhaustion is overwhelming and I'd almost forgotten that!
And, if I might wax apiritual for a moment, I came to believe that God prepares us for what is to come evey step along the way. Right now HE is telling you, "Get LOTS of rest, you're going to need it."
(By the way, in the THIRD trimester he says, "Get up 3 times every night to pee because soon enough you'll be getting up that many times every night to feed and/or change the baby and I want you already used to it.")
Chris in VA
When I was pregnant (I can't believe it was nine years ago!), I was also exhausted, utterly exhausted throughout the first trimester, maybe longer.
One of my favorite memories was the day I think I just sat still on the couch all day. I didn't read, write, knit,barel thought a thought. When my partner came home, I said sheepishly, "I did absolutely nothing today." He immediately shook his head, "That's not true! You probably made a liver today."
I'm new to reading your blog. Came here via Cathy Knits. But I was really moved by this entry. Write who you are, I say.
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