My sobriety

I'm feeling "between realities" right now.

I spent five hours straight yesterday, writing the book. And more again today. The chapters that have been taunting me for a year are finally out of my head. Yes. A FULL year has passed with this writer's block! But now, on the back of a most encouraging new round of praise (one from a prospective interested publisher and the other from a very well-read, well-connected friend - it was just a matter of time before I drew her into the "readerly fold" for her critiqueing, she herself is no stranger to NICU's and premies), I am both buoyed and fired up.

I think I can see the end. I can see it, guys! Holy fark, how long have I (we) been waiting for this?! I feel like such a faker and a charletan so often here, as I have made soooooo many (broken) promises to finish.

Now, tonight, I see the end. Sweet relief.

And at the same time, I am so incredibly emotional about being steeped in this time period. Currently, I am locked in the space of 2004. The year I lost our girl, then two more pregnancies (including another girl just before Christmas). Revisiting all this, seeing the timeline so accurately spaced..... well, it's no wonder, really, that I have subconsciously been protecting myself from writing about it. So hard. So arduous.

And then the LGBB walks in. I hug her. Wrestle with her on the ground in a delicious tickle-fest. Share her delight in counting out her shell collection from our summer holiday. Kiss her goodbye as she climbs into the bath with Daddy. Go back to writing about our angst-ridden first year without her sister. Aaaaagh, it's cathartic and mind-fucking all at once. A mind-mash, if you will.

But by God, I'll finish this juggernaut. As Ella is my witness ;) So very sobering and humbling, all of life right now.