There have been many times when I’ve wanted to rush to my computer and update you all, but my time is consumed with my sweet Emelia, and I am loving it. There were moments when Emelia was down for the night and I sat in bed, trying to write a post. Most of those times I fell asleep while typing. The other times, I literally couldn’t put what I am experiencing into words. Don’t get me wrong. I have been writing a ton about Emelia. However, I feel like I owe it to myself and to you all to at least begin to try to share about what being a mom is like. So, here goes.

Motherhood is so hard yet so easy. It’s tiring yet invigorating. It’s frustrating yet exciting. In the beginning, I really had no idea what I was doing. There were many times when I held my tiny, screaming bundle in front of me and asked her what she needed. She cried and cried, and so did I.

It seemed like she nursed every hour for the first couple of weeks, so I was not sleeping. My mom or Mgo would take her into the living room between feedings during the day so I could catch up on sleep. And then I would hear it. The frantic huffing, whining, crying, so I held my breath and said a prayer. But, alas, the bedroom door would open, gently, quietly, and a nervous Mgo would appear.

“Um, cutie? I think…”
“Yes, I know!” I would scream, the tears already welling. “Give her to me!”

My poor husband sat with me and encouraged me while I cried and Emelia nursed…every single feeding. He’s seriously amazing.  

I’m learning that the beauty about motherhood is that it gets easier as you get to know your kid. It’s a total shock at first. Suddenly, after nine months of taking extra care of yourself, your focus is completely on another little human being, one that needs you ALL THE TIME. However, with help and advice from some of my mommy friends and Mgo’s constant support, I slowly put her on a schedule so that she had a routine. She was much happier and I was able to decipher what her needs were at certain times of the day.

Fast forward four months and nighttime feedings have slowed down a bit. However, recently, when I was in LA, she was having a rough week. I believe it was the rightly dreaded four month sleep regression. One night, I decided to meet up with a friend. I parked my car and walked towards her. I’m glad she was waiting for me in the lot, because she informed me that my car was still running. I had parked it and walked away with the keys in the ignition. That night, I realized that I haven’t slept longer than a three hour stretch at a time since April 3rd. Sleep deprivation is in full swing. I HATE that part.

And in the midst of it all, I have developed a staring problem. When I was pregnant, I couldn’t wait to meet Emelia. Now that she’s here, I can’t take my eyes off her. Not only because she’s adorable (I’m a little biased) but because she’s just so interesting. Every day, she does something new and it’s so fascinating to watch. This week, she discovered her feet. I’ll surround her with toys, but all she wants to do is reach for her toes. She watches them so intently. When she wakes up from her naps early, she can’t go back to sleep because she’s so entranced by them. Yup. Big stuff happening here.

One thing is for certain: I am not “super” mom. I gagged the first time I pulled a ginormous booger out of Emi’s nose. I sometimes roll my eyes when she gets too needy between naps. I say a bad word or two at 2 a.m. when she wakes for an unnecessary feeding after a long, fussy day. I take long showers so I can be alone and think non-baby related thoughts only to make a mental list of how I can improve as a mother. The house is never particularly clean. There’s always laundry to be washed, folded, and put away. The sink is seldom empty. Last night’s dinner was a frozen pizza from Trader Joe’s. My purses are filling up with receipts, grocery lists, and gum wrappers because I don’t have time to clean them out. Sometimes I’m so tired that I forget to change her 1 a.m. diaper so her 4 am diaper is too full.

And I’ve learned to be okay with a house that’s untidy and hair that’s always disheveled, because I want to bask in each sweet moment with my family.

I don’t want to miss a thing.

It’s been a whole month since our sweet Emelia was born, and I’m finally ready to write her birth story.

I want to say my pregnancy and her birth were magical and brought me intense joy and that is the truth. What’s also true is that my pregnancy and especially the birth of my daughter were full of complications.

And I’ve been shaken.

I have to tell you that this post is a bit of a selfish one. In my heart, I know it’s more for me than for those who have been bugging me to write. So I’m sorry in advance.

On Thursday, March 27th, Mgo and I celebrated 36 weeks of pregnancy with my doctor at my prenatal appointment. It seemed like the whole office was rejoicing with us, because we didn’t think we’d make it! It was truly a blessed day. It had been three long months of strict bed rest, strong meds, 14 hospital visits, and constant worry that our little one was going to come too early. At that appointment, my doctor smiled and told me she didn’t think I’d go too long before going in to labor.

We began preparing for our little girl’s arrival. I also allowed myself a few outings since I’d been laying down for so long. I had been having contractions since the end of January, but they were finally welcome, and the anticipation was killing us! There were a few times we thought it was really time, but the contractions slowed down.

When the preterm labor scares began, my doctor decided that, twice a week, the baby and I were to be monitored, and aside from intense contractions that surprised even the nurses, we always left with good news – the baby was doing great! On April 3rd, we went to the hospital’s outpatient center for our routine biweekly non-stress test. When I tried to sign in for my appointment, the receptionist told me I didn’t have an appointment. I laughed because I realized I hadn’t made any appointments past March 27th, thinking there was no way we’d make it past 36 weeks! He asked me if I wanted him to squeeze me in anyway, and I said yes. I figured, why not?

The nurse smiled when she saw me walk in, knowing what a big deal it was that I had made it that far. During the test, I started to feel extremely nauseated, but I figured it was just normal pregnancy stuff. I was, after all, almost full term. 37 weeks that day. I slowed down my sips of my latte just as Emelia’s heart rate began to decelerate. Suddenly the nurse was at my side, flipping me in all different directions. I figured that my baby had moved over and that’s why the monitor was having trouble picking up her heart beat. But then the commotion started. Nurses yelling to one another to call my OB, call triage, call my husband, all the while telling me to remain as calm as possible. The doors flew open and about ten nurses rushed in and started rushing me to triage, running, telling everyone to get out of the way. As usual, Mgo was waiting in the car for me. I texted him to hurry over to triage. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong.

By the time Mgo arrived at my side, Emi’s heart rate had returned back to normal. My doctor called my cell and told me that after speaking with my specialist, they’d decided to induce me that day. Moments later, after being prepped for induction, my sister arrived. Just as I told her I had just experienced the scariest moment of my life, Emi’s heart rate dipped dangerously low again, and I told her to hurry and get Mgo. The nurses rushed in. When her heart rate finally came back up, I was told that my doctor was on her way to perform a C section. We needed to get the baby out as soon as possible.

When the anesthesiologist came in and told me he was going to knock me out since it was an emergency, I begged him to give me a spinal. I wanted to be awake when my daughter was born. He seemed extremely nervous as we spoke.

I was rushed into an operating room, placed at the edge of a hard bed and told to lean forward.

“Now, this is really going to hurt, but it’s for your baby,” the anesthesiologist said from behind.

Then I felt him administer the spinal. No time to numb my back.

They quickly laid me down and immediately I felt my legs go numb. I heard her heart rate fluctuating on the monitor and looked around for my Mgo. He was still in triage. Minutes later, something didn’t feel right.

“I can’t breathe,” I said, feeling my hands go numb.

“Don’t worry, Tamar,” the anesthesiologist said calmly. I heard a hint of a smile in his voice. Even almost a chuckle. “Everyone thinks they can’t breathe when they get the spinal. Just take deep breaths.”

As soon as he said this, I became paralyzed from my toes all the way to the top of my head. My eyelids shut and I stopped breathing. However, I was conscious. I heard everything, but I knew I wasn’t breathing. The anesthesiologist had the nerve to tell me to hold his hand. How? I couldn’t move.

Focusing on the one thing I could feel, the beating of my heart, I prayed. I prayed that my baby would be okay. That they would get her out quickly. That she would live, even if I didn’t.

I don’t know how long it took for the anesthesiologist to yell, “Oh my God. Someone help me! She’s not breathing!”

I felt them intubate me. I felt a machine begin breathing for me. I heard my doctor rush in. She later told me she was in such a hurry, she ran into the OR, dropped her clothes to the floor, pulled some scrubs on and made the final incision to get Emi out.

Then I heard the sweetest sound I’d ever heard… I heard Emelia cry for the first time.

I woke up in recovery, completely confused and delirious.

“Congratulations, mommy. Your baby is doing great,” a nurse told me.

Mommy?

I felt a squeeze on my hand and turned around to see my sweet sister smiling at me, nervously. I asked her a million times about what had just happened. She answered me as many times as I needed. And I’m so thankful for that. I was so thankful for her presence.

Mgo came in with a huge smile on his face, and showed me pictures of a baby that, apparently, was mine. She was here. And it took everything I had to not completely lose it in front of him. I decided not to tell him what happened in the OR. I wanted to be strong for my daughter, so I blocked out what had just happened out of my head. The joy I saw in his eyes was indescribable. I didn’t want to hinder that in any way. I tried to savor it. I tried to join in on it. It was hard.

I met her for the first time in a hallway. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that she was MY baby. They placed her on my legs, and I felt her warmth. That’s when I realized that the numbness from the spinal had totally gone away. I felt a strange strength come over me. I think it was my new identity: mom.

I’m still healing both physically and emotionally. There were times after we returned home that I sunk into a deep, dark hole. It usually happened in the middle of the night, when I was the only one awake, feeding Emelia. There were lots of flashbacks of moments I tried to block out of my memory, but somehow they crept in. I quickly made it a point to let God in on those dark moments. And, as always, Mgo is always by my side, making me talk it out, letting me lean on him, helping carry this burden.

Now, I stare at Emelia’s little face – her tiny nose, lips, fingers, toes – and I’m in awe of this precious miracle. I’m in awe of God’s grace, for sparing both her life and mine. Every moment that I spend with her, I am filled with a joy that brings utter peace. I waited for this little girl, I fought for this little girl, and now she’s here, filling my days with wonder and laugher.

I’m so thankful that she’s with us. I’m so thankful that God spared us both and continues to give us life each day, because I just love being Emelia’s momma.

I am slowly coming to terms with the complications that have developed in my pregnancy. It’s funny, because up until a few days ago, while breathing through contractions, I told family and friends that I’m thankful that I have it so easy.

But I’m realizing that what I’ve faced and am still facing really is a challenge. I think I’ve been afraid to face the fear that is so real. I told myself and others that I wasn’t scared. But today, I’m letting myself worry about my baby. I’m letting myself be frustrated with my situation.

Since the end of January, I have been to Labor and Delivery 11 times for preterm labor. I am now on a high dose of medication that I have to take around the clock, including throughout the night, to help regulate my contractions. It still hasn’t completely stopped them. I’m having contractions as I type this, because I’m sitting up. They’ve become a bit painful over the last week, so the medication is barely keeping them controlled. Baby girl has been doing well so far, but now there are some concerns about her health. As a result, I have to go to the hospital twice a week for NSTs, plus get an ultrasound every week to check on her. Every time I see my doctor, which is very often, there’s a new complication that we must discuss, a new test, a new treatment… What I keep waiting for is a plan. If you know me, you know I’m a planner! However, as of now, a plan is pointless. Nothing is certain. She can come at any time. And it’s still too early.

But this is my new normal.

Realizing and accepting that this is my temporary new normal helps me cope. I get out of bed every morning, get some coffee and breakfast, and spend my day on the couch. I’ve taught myself how to knit, and I’m watching a few shows on Netflix. I’m trying to read here and there, but the meds make me dizzy so it’s hard to focus. I know that in a few weeks, I will be able to get off this couch, hold my baby girl in my arms, and begin a chapter of my life that I’m so terrified of but yearn for. And it’s all part of a new normal – suddenly I have to live life one day at a time.

In three weeks, my doctor will potentially let me stop taking the medication and take me off bed rest (I would jump up and down about this if I could). I’m SO looking forward to being able to get up and get some organizing done to prepare for her arrival, and maybe go out and get a pedicure! However, I know that after I stop taking my meds, I could potentially go into labor. It could be hours, days, or weeks after my last pill. Again, no plan. And when she comes, preemie or not, I know new challenges will arise.

I love this baby SO much. This could be my “mom instinct” kicking in, but I worry about her well-being at every second of every day. I pray that she isn’t born too early. I pray that she’s big enough when she’s born, and that she doesn’t have any problems with eating or breathing. I pray that God gives me the strength through each obstacle, whether it concerns her health or mine. I pray for patience.

It’s hard. Every moment of this is hard. I’m praying through the difficult moments and talking it out and praying about it with Mgo.

And once a day, I sit in her room.

With my hands on my growing, moving belly, I let my mind wander and imagine our life with this gift, this little girl, who I feel will bring us immense joy and inspire us beyond anything else in this world.

It’s a little difficult to write this post, because I haven’t fully digested what I want to update you all on.

But I want to write it out, so here goes.

A week ago, I woke up with some pain in my stomach and back. I didn’t think much of it, but it worsened as the day went on, so I called my doctor. She told me to go straight to Labor and Delivery. We spent the next few days in and out of L&D, trying to stop and slow down what turned out to be pre-term labor. It was difficult to hear the news that I was having contractions so early in my pregnancy, and so close together. On Wednesday, they were two minutes apart. That was scary. However, we really did stay calm, knowing that panicking wouldn’t do any good – it would just make my contractions stronger. I was given a shot to stop the contractions at the hospital, and then given medicine to regulate the contractions at home. Praise God, we found one that worked. During my hospital visits, I was also given steroid shots to develop and mature the baby’s lungs in case she makes her appearance early. When they told me that’s what the steroids were for, it became a reality that our baby could come at any time. And at 28 weeks, I was scared for our baby’s life.

Baby is doing well so far, so we are thankful for that. She scared us a few times with an irregular heart beat during the stress tests, but the doctors and nurses are saying that she is doing great.

It has been a difficult week, to say the least, but we have had an overwhelming sense of calm throughout. I believe this can only be attributed to the fact that we know the Lord is in absolute control. This baby is His.

At this point, we are taking it one day at a time. Every morning I wake and thank God that she is still cooking and hasn’t made her appearance yet. Every day counts. And today, at 29 weeks gestation, marks a small miracle on this journey. My pregnancy is considered high risk, and I have been placed on strict bed rest. That means laying down as much as possible, no cooking, cleaning, driving, etc.. My focus is on taking my medicine on time, staying hydrated, breathing through contractions, and staying put as much as possible. Walking around or sitting up too long brings them on, so I’m being extra careful.

My mother came to town and has been waiting on me hand and foot. She’s such a big blessing. Mgo has been by my side at every moment, holding my hand through contractions or emotionally overwhelming moments. He’s seriously the most caring person I know. I’m so glad we are in this together! When he’s near, I feel stronger. I know we will get through this, as we have made it through so many of life’s challenges together!

Of course, I have my moments of fear, but God is so incredibly gracious. I know that even this difficult situation is a blessing – a good thing.

And I’m thankful for it. I’m thankful for the opportunity to grow in my faith, strengthen my marriage, and prepare for motherhood. My heart is overflowing with joy.

**I want to thank all who have called and left me messages. I’m still processing it all, so I apologize for not having returned phone calls yet. The medicine is hard on my body, so I don’t have much energy, but I am ever so thankful for the encouraging words and prayers sent our way. Thank you for loving us and caring for us. We are so incredibly blessed.

I wake to waves that make my stomach ripple and quiver with life. Good morning, baby. Thank you for letting me sleep. I lay there for a while and revel in her movements. A foot rolls against the palm of my hand and I close my eyes and try to picture what she will look like.

I hear a voice coming from the bottom of the stairs, and as I descend, I see the eager little face of my nephew while he suits up to play outside.

“No school, Auntie Tamar,” he exclaims, leading me to the door. “Count my layers!”

Together, we count eight layers of clothing. I tie a scarf around his little neck, my fingers brushing against his warm cheeks that will soon turn pink in the 18 degree weather.

We open the door and both gasp as the cold air takes our breath away. The world is white and the air glitters with the flakes that blow off the trees. My nephew rushes out. I hand Mgo and my sister-in-law their coffees and they sip them quickly, their faces disappearing behind the mist rising from their floral mugs. They continue to shovel the long driveway to make it possible for their mom and dad to join us this afternoon.

I stare out across the white in wonder. The snow is piled high and soft like the froth that sits on my cappuccino.

“Get inside,” my sister-in-law commands, staring at my stomach.

I shut the door and sip my now cold coffee. My hand is on my belly again. I nudge and she kicks back. I watch from the window and my nephew slowly settles into the snow. His skin is almost as white as the powder beneath him. He stares up at the white sky in total awe and giggles as the flakes settle onto his nose and cheeks.

And I pray that, one day, he will be wonderstruck by the love and grace of his heavenly Father.

Well, it’s been confirmed that we are expecting a little GIRL! It’s funny because Mgo and I really knew all along. We referred to the baby as “she” every time we talked about her, and then we would correct ourselves and say “he or she.” So when the ultrasound tech gave us the news, we smiled at each other knowingly and so excited! Many of you are asking us if we have a name. The answer is yes, and we will share with everyone when our sweet girl is born. 🙂

I’m feeling good for the most part. The nausea is now minimal. Certain smells still set me off, but I try to steer clear of things like the trashcan! It’s been quite cold here lately, the high temp during the day being in the mid 40’s and dropping into the low 30’s in the evening. I don’t do well with the cold. My pain has been high, plus all the stretching and growing going on in my belly is causing my back and sides to hurt quite a bit. But even in the moments that I have excruciating pain, I feel a kick and I thank God.

We are more than halfway there and as the baby grows and kicks away, it’s becoming more and more real that life is about to change in a big way.

This is my last week of teaching, and I will be on maternity leave next semester. There are moments when I get a little sad, knowing that I won’t be working. I really do love teaching. But then I realize that in just a few months, I’m going to take on a new role. Suddenly, I’m going to be in charge of the new life that is growing inside of me. The rolls, kicks, pokes and bumps I feel are the movements of my daughter.

My daughter.

I’m going to be a mother to a daughter. Writing that out feels awkward and weird and scary. From what I hear, being a parent is both challenging and rewarding. And I’m scared. I know I’ll make mistakes. I know the house will be in a constant mess. We will order A LOT of take out. I will call my mom in a panic once a day. I will miss teaching. I will be anxious. I will be so tired I will cry.

But then there’s the other side of it.

Her room is already filling up with baby things. Her crib is arriving piece by piece. There are too many clothes to count. And every time I walk into the room and pick up a tiny pair of pants or touch a soft blanket, I’m filled with wonder. This tiny person is going to be here sooner than we know it, and she already brings us such joy. I get to take care of and nurture this little girl with Mgo. I can’t wait to see what she looks like, what she’ll sound like, and what her own passions will be. I can’t wait to read to her, cuddle with her, cook with her, go swimming with her, take her to museums and plays, and teach her about Jesus’ unconditional love.

Is it April yet?

I never dreamed of having kids. I was never one to get excited about growing up, getting married, and having babies. My friends all knew that I just wasn’t interested in any of it. I wanted to go to school forever and write. Then I met Mgo and things changed. It was love, and all I could do was fall deeper and deeper into it. During one of our premarital counseling sessions, we were asked about how many kids we wanted to have. I laughed and said I wanted none. I only saw a small tinge of panic in Mgo’s eyes. Then a smile on his lips. This guy wanted to marry me even though I didn’t want kids. I saw pure surprise and then understanding on our pastor’s face.

“That will change,” our pastor said.
“Nope. I’m telling you. I’m not the ‘mommy’ type,” I assured him.
“Give yourself a few years,” he said.
“It’s just not gonna happen” I said.

Mgo just squeezed my hand. And the fact that he accepted my desire not to have kids at that early stage in our relationship made me want to marry him even more.

As the years went by, I fell more and more in love with Mgo. He just “got” me. He didn’t look past my peculiarities. He understood them and embraced them. I think we work well together because we are both artists at heart. And artists are peculiar and quirky and awkward at times. He was okay with my many journals strewn about the house. With the messes I chose not to clean up because I was busy writing or reading. With the many times I chopped my hair off after we moved to RI because I was trying to find myself again. With my depression when the Fibro hit and I wouldn’t leave the couch for days because the pain was so overwhelming. Even then, he would tell me to write and give me my space to do it.

And a few years into our marriage, my desire to have children did change. This adventure I’m on with Mgo just keeps getting better and better as we get to know one another.

Suddenly I wanted to jump into parenthood, because the idea of become a parent with him brought more joy to my heart than anything else in the world.

Now every time I feel the baby move I am brought to tears at the thought of raising a new life with the man who understands and loves me most, despite my weaknesses.

I am 17 weeks and 5 days today! I feel the baby rolling around and kicking every time I sit still. Today, I put my hand on my belly and felt a kick from the outside! Now I can’t wait for Mgo to get home so he can feel it. We hope to find out the sex of the baby next week. I am STARVING all the time, probably because the baby is growing like crazy. The nausea still hits at night, but I know it is all worth it.

I just can’t wait until April!

I am so relieved to finally be able to write about my pregnancy on here. I stayed far away from my blog for a couple of months, because every time I wanted to write, I wanted to blurt out the good news! It was so hard to keep it a secret, but Mgo and I both agreed to hold on to the news for the first three months.

Pregnant. I took about five tests the day I got a positive. I just couldn’t believe it. Once I saw the two lines, I thought I had to get up and do something. I paced around the house and wondered what I needed to do. I took some vitamins. Ate a healthy breakfast. Did some research online. Called my OB’s office who was still closed. All before 7 o’clock in the morning.

When I finally got my best friend on the phone, she had to assure me that a positive pregnancy test meant that I was REALLY pregnant.

“Now what? Now you bake a baby!” she said.

The thing is, I didn’t know the first thing about pregnancy or what pregnancy would be like for me. I prepared for the worst, and thank God, it’s been fairly easy so far. I was sick for a few weeks, but it was manageable. 

Every morning I looked at myself in the mirror, and then down at my tummy and knew that this was a small miracle. Each day that passed, I was thankful that, for once, my body was behaving. It was doing what it was supposed to do. Praise God.

Now I am 12 weeks and 4 days in, and all I can do is stare at and rub my tummy, which has started to grow quite rapidly! Strangers keep asking whether I’m having a boy or a girl, and when I tell them that I’m only three months along and don’t know yet, they lift their eyebrows and smile and nod. It’s pretty funny actually. I don’t know if I’m big because I’m so short and petite, but I am so content. Grow baby grow!

In other news, I can finally eat vegetables again without gagging! I’m craving strawberries and grapes and pineapple! I’m happy to announce that my love for ice cream has not diminished!

Nausea? Check. Cravings that make me itch until I am eating them? Check. Sleepy? …..Oh, I’m sorry. I fell asleep for a minute there.

I thank you all for your encouragement and prayers. This is going to be my biggest adventure yet.

I just can’t believe I’m so blessed. I can’t believe I get to be a mom.

Here’s a small summer update:

For months we were anticipating the arrival of Mgo’s parents. They came, they left, and we are still processing the fact that their long-awaited trip is already over! It was very hot while they were here, so we swam a lot. In my mind I secretly thanked God over and over that we had a pool. Otherwise, I think they’d be bored out of their minds! I think my father-in-law really appreciated and enjoyed all the fresh produce Fresno has to offer. We went produce shopping often and indulged in late night fruit snacking. My mother-in-law graciously took over my kitchen and cooked some delicious Armenian dishes for us. We had a great time catching up with them.

One thing that I learned about my in-laws that I hadn’t really noticed before was how much energy they have! We did a lot of cooking, cleaning, organizing, shopping, swimming and by the end of the day, Mgo and I were exhausted and went to bed early while they stayed up late! They were a huge help in the kitchen. I don’t think there was ever a dirty dish in the sink for more than two minutes at a time. We had a blast with them, but what was difficult for me was trying to keep up with them in the midst of a flare up. It’s been difficult for me to be open about the Fibro with my in-laws. I had to hide the fact that I was feeling quite lousy while they were visiting. They just worry too much and I don’t want them to.

We had a bit of a surprise visit from our good friends the past couple of days! One of my best friends, who recently found out she’s expecting her second child, and her her family, came to spend a day and a night with us. Her little girl, whom I refer to as “jellybean,” holds a very special place in my heart. She is so full of life – always smiling and saying the funniest things. She became good friends with Milli. It was so refreshing to spend time with them. The highlight was swimming with jellybean while Mgo grilled some steaks for us all. They are just so fun to be around.

Mgo and I celebrated our 5 year anniversary this month! I still can’t believe we’ve been married that long. Every day I wake up excited that I’m married to this man. He is so caring, and for those of you who know my husband, you’ll understand what I mean when I tell you that there’s never a dull moment in this house. I’m having so much fun and am so in love.

Summer is really flying by since it’s been so busy. I’m already prepping for my Fall course. This semester, I may have the opportunity to have a tutor in my classroom to work with my students! I’m very excited about this, as I did this sort of thing at Pasadena City College years ago! I’m excited to begin teaching again!

It’s been quite an eventful summer, which really helps me with my writing! Every event, activity, moment sparks a character, scene, or story in my mind. I am working on my fiction and slowly sending it out! I’m also searching for a fellow fiction writer to swap stories for critiquing. A friend recently asked me what it’s like to spend time writing fiction. I told him that it takes a lot out of me. I feel drained, but in a very good way, once I complete a story.

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” – Ernest Hemingway

This quote pretty much sums it up. Now all I need is a typewriter.