writing, birthing, infertility...woman's work

Mel over at the Stirrup Queens wrote a great post comparing infertility to writing/publishing.

To paraphrase: the author John le Carre compares writing to childbirth and, because I'm too tired to elaborate (but I'm sure you can imagine), there are many problems with doing so. Mel ties it up nicely at the end of the post by saying: "Perhaps I am simply bitter because in his analogy, it sounds like having a child is just something you decide to do (such as … oh, writing a book) and we all know that it isn’t quite that simple. Nor is the loss of life quite akin to a few deleted paragraphs." Hear, hear!

By the way: I, being a nerd, had to comment that "it is typical of male writers to compare writing to childbirth. (E.g., Philip Sydney, Shakespeare, Alexander Pope.) Historically, this is a common analogy for men to use even though they have no first-hand experience in the matter." I did graduate work on this topic and, I tell ya, was I ever thrilled to be able to pull out what I learned and apply it to 'the real world.' heehee

Back to the topic at hand. Mel's words resounded in my head. I spent a year of my life writing a thesis on a topic near and dear to my heart. I was pregnant for the last push of writing/defence and it was odd and wonderful to live out the centuries-old analogy between writing/creating and gestation/childbirth.

Everyone says my thesis is immediately publishable (there is nothing out there like it and I know it is good) – and I’m too afraid to do anything with it.

What if 'everyone' is wrong and I fail? A sound rejection would be a BFN, of sorts, and although that would be crushing, at least it wouldn't be as soul-destroying (to me, anyway) as a post-IVF miscarriage.

Plus, time is an issue. My manuscript, while perfectly fine as a thesis, needs major renovations to turn it into a publishable book. That requires blocks of time. On deck is the perennial question: when would I, a woman and a mother, find time to write? (Enter the chorus: commenters such as Christine de Pisan, Virgina Woolf, Tillie Olsen, and millions of other women who have longed to write and create yet are bound to housework and jobs and social obligations.)

I wanted this binding, no pun intended. I knew that having a baby would banish my free time. That came true and I am not sorry. I worked hard to get to where I am and I cherish every day I have with my child. Right now, she is my main act of creation.

Yet, to be pragmatic, I ask myself: when can I get this done? Perhaps I need to wait. But I can't wait too long otherwise my document will have to be overhauled to include new research out there on my topic. I spent so much time on my book. Everything I had went into those words and into getting pregnant. It really is now or never.

When to do this? One of my sisters-in-law said: NAPTIME!

Ha ha ha. Ninja does not do this thing called naps. The most I can get out of her is a 40-minute snooze. By the time I wait 5 minutes to see if she is really asleep, get something to eat, answer the phone, etc., she is awake and she requires my full attention.

Working into the night: also not an option (at least, not yet). Ninja is up often to nurse and it takes hours to get her into bed in the first place.

Baby-sitters are also out of the question, at this point. Ninja is still almost exclusively breastfed and she will not take a bottle. (She is intrigued by the sippy cup but she loses patience with it.)

It is important that I make the effort to publish - my academic work is very important to me. I see I will have to be creative with making time for my project. It's true: a woman's work is never done.