
W R I T E R
Packed most of the house nary a pause/thought/reflection, until this moment, in sacred #fionaapple sweats, blasting #daisythegreat , removing titles from shelves. Heart juuust caught up to mind/body/calendar. Wild.
(And don't worry, babies. You're all coming along. 📚📚📚)
#bookstagram #booksy #shelfie #fortheloveofbooks #writersofig #writeon #writerwoman #abbeyclelandlopez #fictionwriting #blondeambition #dropeverythingandread
Honestly? Not a great midnight officemate. 🤷🏼♀️ #abbeyclelandlopez
Short writer, long story. ⚖️ Sometimes, early in mapping out a storyline, I stand on my chair to take in all the plotty Post-its at once. (The kids find this hilaaarious.) Writerfriends, am I alone here?
#writinglife #writeon #fictionwriting #screenwriting #getcreative #staycreative #abbeyclelandlopez
I bought this gem of a journal on what was most likely the worst day of my life thus far. When it arrived two days later, I was asleep on the couch, a liquified ice pack arched and sticky across my eyelids. Anthony was home, post-call. He unwrapped the package and Cameron brought it to me, announcing, "Ma, your space woman journal's here."
From that moment on, I mentally refashioned myself Space Woman, with three responsibilities: 1. Give the kids great days, 2. Attempt to remain healthy myself since backup runs thin when you're catapulting directly into the sun, and 3. Here, in this journal, I would chart our survival as if reporting back to Mission Control. (Mission Control being God, but also Future Abbey, who would also know how this particularly scary voyage panned out.)
Somehow, I knew if I wrote what was happening to me and my dearest people in real time, if I attached words to the experience, I could keep a more level head. Today, I hate and love this full journal.
I hate every number in it (God, do I hate numbers): fever logs, symptom tracking for the pediatric rheumatologist, Covid case counts, important phone numbers, important dates, important addresses. God, do I hate this brand of Important.
But there's some good stuff, too. Some unquantifiable, marrow-of-life stuff. Some heart-wrenching gratitude lists. Some very angry, very entertaining letters to never be sent. And, best of all, notes from my conversations with Howie, Michael, and Pete. Undoubtedly, they would say something I'd never want to forget. No euphemisms, no fluff, no promises. Their words were my lifeboats, and always seemed to arrive just before we'd be tasked with dodging a new black hole. I honestly don't know what I would've done without their words.
One surprising thing, combing through it today: "Anthony" is seldom mentioned. I realize now, every "I" is actually a "we." All eyes glued on the asteroids, we lived in each other's peripheral -- separated, seat-belted, but gripping hands. And you can get through most anything like that, with three dear friends who always answer and always deliver, one steady hand to hold, and a good journal.
#abbeyclelandlopez
3 years ago today -- 3 weeks before meeting my darling Annie Girl -- I was headed, once again, back to L&D. ⚡️ Just looking at this, the stress was so consuming, I can actually FEEL it now. ⚡️ I did not enjoy being pregnant, and I do not believe I was very good at it. Heaps of gratitude and anticipatory joy bouyed me through the fear, miserable meds, prelabor paranoia, etc. I was entirely, deeply in love with my children before we met eyes; meanwhile, I found carrying them physically in my body entirely, deeply unnatural. [And yes, this word choice is intentional and true. It's just how it felt for me. Still, to this day, I'm shocked, genuinely, that I did that, grew like that, and not in any kind of pat-oneself-on-the-back kind of way, more like "Who possibly thought THAT was a reasonable idea!?" kind of way.] Anyway. For these reasons, I don't revisit my pregnancies. And really, why would I when the priceless gifts they provided are fully animated and autonomous now, just in front of my nose or clinging to my legs where they belong, requesting ice cubes, glue sticks, and 'squeezy Mama hugs?' [🤗] But, lately, unintentionally, some visceral pregnancy memories are flickering back, and I think I know why. Then and now are such different times, but hard times all the same. I used to have to repeat to Bewildered Pregnant Abbey, "You only need enough strength for today. Tomorrow's strength will arrive tomorrow." And it always did. And it always does. And it always will. I don't know if anyone at all may benefit from reading this, but just in case, there it is, here it is.... Tilt your head up to what I like to imagine are the heavens for a "Serenity now...! / For the love...! / WTF...! Whyyyy...?" exhale, then just keep hanging on. And if hanging on feels harder than you think it should, please message me. I'm here. I mean it. ❤️ [Squeezy virtual hugs.]
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#pregnancydiary #writingmotherhood #mamadiaries #womenwriters #pregnancysupport #womenwhowrite #writinglife #abbeyclelandlopez #preggolife #writeon #writersofig #abbeyclelandlopez #pregnantproblems #writerwoman #keepcalmcarryon #mamapower
How is everyone? Do I know anyone else who is still home ALL the time, as if it's late March or April or May or June or July or August or September? As if a pandemic is still raging? Oh, please don't answer that. I may be in what some could call "a mood," and feel salty about some particular answers, and that's honestly not me, not my style, not good for anyone, not what's in my heart. 🧡 We, my family, have very good reasons to stay put all the time, so we do. Every every every day. 🧡 I did, however, do something very out of the usual today. I picked up a gown from the tailor. I had dropped it off on March 3rd for an early April wedding that would never be. My adored tailor has been stranded in Thailand, while I've been firmly rooted 4 miles from the shop. None of this matters, except that she did an excellent job, and when this era comes to a close, which it will -- no doubt -- I'm wearing that gown (sooo yummy: a floor-length, colorblocked, structured, strappy-backed, secondhand designer stunner) as soon and often as possible. 🧡 So. Carry on. I love you. I feel you. We really are in this together. (Unless we're not, and then please feel free to kindly + temporarily eff off. (Told you. Salty! 💋💋) xx Real Human Experiencing Real Things #abbeyclelandlopez