Has it really been two and a half years since I’ve posted anything to this blog? I purchased the domain for this site several years ago, I when I was writing regularly. It’s a small yearly fee and it makes the URL easier to remember and share. My domain comes up for renewal every October, and for the last two years it’s been an unpleasant reminder that I’ve neglected something that was once a big part of me. Writing has always been my coping mechanism for life’s Big Things. And I think we can all agree this last year especially has been full of Big Things.
So much has happened over the past year, and at many points I’ve wished I’d thought to document how it’s affected our family. Parenting a preemie in a pandemic has meant we’ve had to lock down tighter than most of our friends and family. In many ways, the emotional isolation has been harder than the physical isolation, as few people understand our level of caution. But having seen Emmett ravaged by RSV and even common colds, we know too well how illnesses go straight to his lungs. And unless you’ve experienced the trauma of seeing your child on a ventilator, it’s hard to explain how you just don’t take chances with something that could put him back on one. His pulmonologist warned us that while most kids who contract Covid have mild cases or are even asymptomatic, Emmett would likely not be one of them. She urged us to take extra precautions, and as a result, our quarantine has lasted well beyond when our friends and family widened their bubbles and much of the country declared they weren’t going to let this virus run their lives. Unfortunately for us, the more everyone else relaxed their restrictions, the more dangerous the world around us became for Emmett, and the deeper we were forced to retreat to keep him safe.
I feel hope now that vaccines are rolling out, though we’re likely at least several months out from a pediatric vaccine. Dave and I have been vaccinated, as have our parents and many of our friends, so for the first time in a year we’ve been able to get out a little more and socialize with vaccinated people at least!
The optimism I’ve felt these last few months has lifted a weight from my shoulders and I’ve been able to turn my attention to a project I started a couple years ago: I’m writing a book!
Wow, my hands just got all clammy. Every time I share this out loud to anyone, feelings of imposter syndrome wash over me and self-doubt creeps in. Writing a book has always been on my bucket list. I always figured I’d write a novel in my retirement or something, but then life dropped a little 1 lb. 14 oz. trauma into my lap nearly five years ago, and after several people urged me to write a book about our experience, and seeing just how much this blog has helped other preemie parents cope, I’m finally doing it. I started it two years ago, and then stalled out last year because I just couldn’t stomach revisiting a traumatic point in my life while I was stressed with a new traumatic event. I finally picked it up again earlier this year, with more determination than ever.
It’s been a lot of work, turning the daily stream-of-consciousness I’d hammered out each night after much stress and little sleep into a work of prose someone might actually pay money to read. But I’m finally “done” writing the book. I use “done” in quotation marks because I’m always finding something new to revise, and will likely go through a few rounds with an editor before all is said and done. I’m currently in the process of pitching literary agents, in hopes of landing a deal with a publisher. I’ve decided to try the traditional publishing route first with self-publishing as a backup plan, knowing how competitive the publishing game is, and that securing a memoir, in particular, can be next to impossible unless you’re a celebrity.
There’s an old French proverb: vouloir, c’est pouvoir — “to want, is to be able.” If there’s one thing Emmett has taught me, it’s that even when the odds are stacked against you, there’s a way.
Stay tuned for updates!