I've been busy watching Bella breathe

I love my blog. Not only do I get to write about my favourite subject whenever I want, in whatever way I want, but I actually have readers who tell me what they think, and even come back for more. But perhaps the most surprising and rewarding aspect of MOTHERLAND has been the inspirational women it has introduced me to. In the last week alone I have talked attachment parenting with a couple here who are about to adopt nine-month-old twin boys, and have received an email asking for friendship and support from a British woman living and working and mothering in Mongolia. What a privilege. Both of them should have blogs – they would be far more interesting than mine.

Still, there are days when I wake up and wonder what on earth I was thinking starting up this beast so soon after the birth of my second child. Those are the days when all I want to do is stay in bed with Bella, or go and read a story at Jemima’s school, but I know that if I do not keep the momentum up, I will lose readers. This week I had to remind myself that while I will always be able to write, my babies will be up and fleeing the nest before I know it. As a result I have hardly written a thing.

A part of me feels anxious because when I do not post regularly my readers don’t come back so regularly. And I need to be able to show agents I have a fan club, if I am ever to get my book published. But a greater part of me has just loved wallowing in motherhood this week, rather than writing about it.

Instead of running to the computer as soon as Bella falls asleep each morning, I have sat and held her in my arms, on my own or with a friend and a coffee. Just watching her breathe.

In the two afternoons that Jemima has gone to play at a friend’s house, I have not rushed home to write, while Bella feeds and sleeps on my lap, as I so often do, but have lounged on the sofa with a friend and her own new baby, talking about life, death and the wonders of explosive breast milk poo. It has been bliss.

Yesterday I took Jemima and Bella to visit four siblings who were orphaned earlier this year. I have only met them twice before. The first time was at their dying mother’s side, in a room behind the hospital where they lived for three months. I was seven months pregnant. The second time was with a one-month-old Bella in my arms, at their mother’s funeral. Yesterday was a happier occasion, at their new foster home in the countryside. But despite their beautiful smiles, I know they miss their mother terribly. I can imagine the butterflies they feel in their stomachs when they wake after a night filled with dreams of her.

I will write all about them and their mother on Monday. For now, I just want to sit with my children and give thanks for the chance I have to watch them grow each day. These are precious times.