My name is Erin Lane and I am a marketing mama.
I have always wanted to be a mother. Always.
If you ask my family members, they’ll tell you stories of me as a little girl begging everyone to play with me. “I’ll be the mommy and you be the baby!”
When I planned my life (because everything always goes according to plan) I would be married in my early twenty’s and start having babies in my mid-twenty’s. I assumed I would work as long as I had to and then stay home to raise my children.
I met the man of my dreams when I was 20. Six years later, we were married and after two years, we decided to start a family. I got pregnant after three months and miscarried eight weeks later. I miscarried my second pregnancy just shy of six weeks. (Chemical pregnancy they call it. What the hell kind of term is that anyway?)
A chill began to course through my body as I questioned everything I did, everything I ate, everything I touched.
The desire to be a mother starts in my bones.
I will not acknowledge there is a chance I will never be one.
Never is not an option.
Six months later, I was diagnosed with unexplained infertility. Another year went by – a long, gut-wrenching year where I left every tear possible embedded in my pillowcase and my husband’s t-shirts. I thought the universe was mocking me with every negative pregnancy test. Then, I got pregnant. I stayed pregnant…and I began to blog.
Looking back, I wish I’d started earlier. The blogging community is so powerful, welcoming, understanding. It would have helped me tremendously during those times of pure heartache.
I started sharing my voyage of the unknown – how I felt, how my pregnancy related to my work in the juvenile industry, how my body was changing. Then, after my son was born, my writing shifted. It was less about sharing facts and statistics and more about sharing the unabashed power that comes with being a mother. I was part of something so much bigger than myself now.
I realized something else about myself in that time. I wanted (needed) to work. I love my son fiercely, but I need an outlet. This was a hard realization to come to. It’s a constant battle because I always feel like I need more time with him. Now, as we contemplate having our second child, the struggle is more real and I’m thankful to have a place to share my feelings and concerns.
Because someone out there will understand.
Blogging sucks you in because it’s the easiest way to find someone that’s in your same space. When I needed help with nursing? There was a blog for that. When I needed to laugh at the ridiculousness of someone else’s day? There was a blog for that too. When I longed for some quality “me” time and missed my girlfriends so badly I could scream? Not only was there a blog for that, but when I wrote my own post, I received an inordinate amount of sympathy. I was not alone.
I’m part of this culture now and don’t think I could stop if I tried. It drives me from within…to read, absorb and continue to share, to be a better writer.
My end goal? To succeed at being me. And if I get to do that in a much more public forum than this blog, then so be it. I am proud to share my voice, ask my questions and find my answers.
I tell stories.
I tell truth.
I tell life.