Writing a memoir has been, in many ways, therapeutic; but it was also incredibly unnerving.
Through my story, ‘Finding the Rainbow’, I literally made myself the lead character of my own book. I placed my entire personal life into the open for all to read, review and critique. On reflection, that could have been a potentially daft move; but do I have any regrets? Not one!
Whilst I recognise that I’m not a best seller, I have in many ways lost any secrecy around my private life. I realised that my book would be read by a certain market, but in hindsight I was not fully prepared for the walk up conversations that have started to occur. Questions, comments and advice around fertility and having babies are now common place subjects with those whom I meet. Whilst it threw me a little at first, I have concluded that this is actually a good thing. People are talking about it, and that was the primary purpose for me to put pen to paper. I wanted to open up the issue of infertility and miscarriage, and now, I am that topic of conversation.
In many ways, it has released some of the anxiety that surrounds having to discuss such a sensitive subject. I’m regularly amazed at how many people start sharing their individual struggles in trying to conceive or experience with miscarriage. My book has provided an excuse to share stories, and through it, I have received many voluntary connections that are openly looking to aid and recognise my plight.
I feel less alone on this challenging journey and that has been helpful, to me and my mind-set.
Is there another memoir in me? I really am not sure yet. I continue to write about my personal experiences, but I still wonder if it will ever be another story that others want to read. Or just a journal I will keep for my own reference and sanity. Time will tell . . .