I am in labor.
Right now, as we speak. I might even be coming up on transition.
It’s been an unusually long gestation period, even longer than an elephant requires to grow its offspring.
At first it was just a twinkle in my eye, a vision of what might be. My creation grew and grew and grew until it was ready to be born.
It was a typical pregnancy. Sometimes I felt like crap, sometimes I was anxious. I spent several weeks wondering what the hell I’d been thinking getting myself into this situation. Some days I was elated and felt fantastic. It was quite a roller coaster, really. But now the time has come for the delivery. And this time it’s real. There was some false labor a while back, but this ain’t no Braxton Hicks—this is it for sure.
I’m finally giving birth to my book.
You may have noticed in my profile that I am the author of the soon to be published, What Not To Say: Tools for Talking with Young Children. This has been a true labor of love and delivery time is fast approaching. Over the past few months there have been signs of its impending arrival, making it seem like more of a reality as opposed to this potential “thing” out there.
So now I’m totally freaking out. I love this little baby of mine, but now it is happening FOR REAL!!!
I think it’s actually turning out to be more frightening that having a real baby. Having a real baby is something that everyone does. Okay, not everyone, but lots of people. It’s very normal to have a baby, to create a life and nurture it as it grows. It is decidedly not normal to write a book. And while this is certainly a source of pride and feelings of accomplishment, it is also scaring the living crap out of me.
You should know that I’ve come a long way on the shyness spectrum. I was the kind of kid who was horrified at my birthday parties because all the attention was on me. I loathed the singing, the cake, and the present opening. I literally vibrated with nervousness. That’s how it felt on the inside anyway.
Now I give trainings, teach classes and facilitate groups. I can even belt out a mean White Rabbit or croon Carnival down at the karaoke bar. Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve pulled that off, but I can do it. My point being that I have forged a relationship with my anxiety that allows me to achieve and perform—and to be a competent professional. I always feel a little edgy when I first get in front of a group, but I overcome it.
This book thing, well, it just feels bigger. Much bigger. WAY bigger.
I really hope the pushing part is almost over.