Well, it’s been quiet over here and that’s because we’ve been keeping something close to the chest these past four months: our family is growing! We’re expecting our second baby, due in late winter.
This pregnancy has been much rougher than my first, hence my absence here. The nausea was constant for months, and the kind of exhaustion I’ve felt isn’t just “need a nap tired” but “can’t think straight, can’t keep up with myself” to the bone tired. It drained me in ways I didn’t expect. But the part that surprised me the most? How much it pulled me away from my creativity.
I’ve always relied on writing and creativity as a whole as the way I connect to myself. When I don’t have that outlet, I feel completely cut off. And honestly, that’s been extremely hard. Even though life these past few months has been full of sweetness — watching our daughter grow, getting into family rhythms in this rental home (that I don’t love, but more on that later) — there’s been a heaviness underneath it all.
Not creating left me feeling flat.
Only recently have I started to feel like my energy is coming back. I notice it in small ways: short essays returning in my head while I’m doing the dishes, ideas showing up again when I’m in the shower, a little spark of curiosity I haven’t felt in months. It feels like finally taking a deep breath after holding it too long.
What I’ve learned (and can attribute to my amazing therapist helping me see this) is that creativity isn’t just a hobby for me — it’s what keeps me feeling alive and connected both to my soul, and to the world around me. Without it, I sink into a kind of depression, dullness, even when everything else looks great on the outside.
Motherhood has made that even clearer. It’s busy, it’s beautiful, it’s all consuming. And in the middle of it, the only way I process all of it — the joy, the overwhelm, the mundane — is by finding a way to create. Writing especially helps me make sense of things. When I’m not doing that, the days can start to blur together and just like that, I start to lose sight of who it is I actually am to the core.
So this return of energy feels like more than just relief. It feels like being able to recognize myself again.
Alongside this new chapter of growing another life, we’ve also started looking for our next home. Not just any home — a place to put down real roots. For most of my adult life, permanence felt confining and suffocating, almost like it meant closing doors for good. But ever since having kids, that’s has shifted. Now? It feels steadying, like a foundation that I never knew I needed.
We’ve been making a list of what matters most: light-filled rooms, space for our kids to play, a kitchen where we can actually spread out, space for a garden where we can grow our own food. Things that feel simple, and luxurious in their own right. Walking into homes during this house hunting process with the lens of “forever” gives this extra layer of magic. Walking into the kitchen, the hallways, the bedrooms.. and really getting to imagine my daughters’ lives here until they fly the nest? It makes me so emotional in the best way.
So here we are: waiting for our new baby girl, manifesting a new home, and slowly, yet gratefully, welcoming back the part of me that finds life in creativity.
For once, I’m allowing myself to take small steps — writing when the spark hits and celebrating those small wins, and letting myself dream about what’s ahead instead of just getting through the day.
And maybe that’s the real lesson in this season of my life: that it doesn’t stop moving, even when you feel like you’re standing still. The spark comes back, the energy returns, and eventually you feel ready again to meet yourself there.
To those of you who might be in your own season of waiting or deep fatigue whatever the reason may be, I just want say: you’re not alone. Sometimes it takes longer than we thought, but the light will return. You, will return.
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