This week, I self-published The Wilderness of Motherhood: A memoir of hope and healing. It’s available for sale on Amazon.com in both paperback and Kindle versions.
I started the book the day after Isaac was born, recording his birth while it was still fresh in my mind.
Five weeks later, my mother died, and I wrote about that strange, healing, difficult time with my mother.
A series of essays began in those early days that eventually became this book.
That was almost eight and a half years ago. I wondered many times if I were a neglectful mother of this book. I knew a book was possible, but I was also a single parent, working. I got married when Isaac was four, and we moved into a house and newly married life, and I changed jobs and careers. The book needed editing; it needed cover art; it needed technical details managed, such as the lay-out, marketing plan and self-publishing channel to use. It needed a lot that I wasn’t sure how to make happen, and it took these eight years to complete.
Fortunately or unfortunately, labor of a real baby is over relatively quickly. We have little control over how labor progresses, and then we have a baby (whether we feel ready or not!).
This Book Baby relied on the force of my will, the assistance and availability of friends, my ability or inability to give it attention, and a mysterious gestation time to mature.
It’s here now. I think I’m ready, and I hope you’ll join with me in celebrating its arrival. I have to say, at this point, it’s sleeping through the night, requires a manageable amount of tending, and has met with a kind and generous welcome from friends and family.