Tales from the cryp...I mean motherhood

A proof of life on minimal sleep and a heart so big it may crack the sky.

There was about .1 percent of inspiration to write this less than 3 hours ago.

I don’t know if it’s strange golden milk latte a randomly poured for myself simply because I like the color of it or the short walk in the woods I took with the pups for the first time in weeks, but here we are, here I am..writing again.

Well, maybe writing is an exaggeration.

It more so feels like stringing words together to hopefully make some type of coherent sentence as I sit here at my desk trying to acclimate to yet another transformation and thinking about how much my skin has changed over the past 3 months.

I gave birth to a beautiful, sassy, little girl, Stevie Rose (who I would have bet my LIFE was going to be a boy) 3 weeks early. Hurtled head first into the Motherverse, stumbling along the unfamiliar yet most instinctual path I have ever traversed. Sold over 100 copies of my book, the one that physically entered my hands in the hospital the day after my daughter made her Earthside debut. Semi resurrected my personal training business into a new version to fit into this new timeline of my life. And probably averaged around 3 hours of sleep a night 🙃.

But alas I am here, with a heart cracked open and expanding to a depth I didn’t know possible and a slight inkling to string some words together. Any urge is an urge that I need to chase so that hopefully my mind can catch up with my thoughts and my thoughts can find a way to become a notion.

There’s no moral to this story. No takeaway to eradicate from these words. There is simply a human on the other side of them sending forth a sign of life, an awakening as a different self, thanking you for seeing her through.

Photo via Pinterest. Source unknown.