For goodness’ sake, NO!!!  I am not pregnant.  It’s true, just saying the word “fertility” is dangerous around here.  (I’m still not so sure about the logistics of The Immaculate Conception of Shortcake.)  But, no.  There is not a #5 in the oven.  Nor in the uterus.

When I received my first “didyourblogjusttellmethatyou’repregnant?” phone call yesterday, I thought, whoops.  I did it again.  I tried to get this out, this something that I have to say said, but stopped short at confusing.  Again.  Dammick.

The problem is that I have a lot to say, and so many different ways I want to say it.  For months, I have been contemplating this motherhood-creativity (there it is, the point!) concept.  Inspired by the depth of it, I started researching, writing down my insights, and seriously intending a book.  Suddenly, though, it appears I do not have the patience.  If I do not start sharing my thoughts, however random or disorganized, they will continue to leak out like yesterday’s nonsense post.  I have envisioned a clear, organized method to present theories, what I have learned, and what I am learning.  I have a good, effective outline for a nice, inspiring book. 

But, I don’t wannnnna.  I’d just rather have a  conversation.  This is me, ever-so-predictable, not following through.  Or, perhaps I am simply being honest with myself.  Right now, I am not writing a book; I am sometimes-blogging.  It simply is what I am happily doing.  I’m more interested in sharing my thoughts than in having my name on a bookshelf in Barnes and Noble (though that would be mildly awesome, I suppose…).

I also have begun an evolving photo project, which is really where I’d prefer to channel my energy.  The subject matter is essentially the same, and as it grows in my mind and on film, I am falling in love with it.  (But that’s another story.)

So, here’s my attempt at a clarification.  It is no wonder that many of you assumed that when I said “fertility,” I meant baby.  My body is particularly receptive to that sort of thing.  *ahem.*  But I meant “fertility” in a broader sense, its connection to motherhood deeper than the physical definition.

The very essence of motherhood is creativity.  Fertility, gestation, and birth are a part of the miraculous creative potential that is inherent in every mother.   Fertility (crap, I’d better stop saying that) is the ability to create, the potential for dynamic newness, a direct connection to the life force.  It is powerful and awe-inspiring, whether you see this force as scientific, divine, or both. 

As women, and more specifically to my point, as mothers, we have access to the flow of this creative power.  What fascinates me, and  subsequently has me obsessed with this topic, is that we don’t use it!  It is ours for the taking, this magnificent gift of creation; and for various reasons, we don’t own it.  For the most part, we don’t even realize it. 

I’ll spill it all eventually: why I’m speaking directly about and to mothers, why I think it matters, what, how, etc.  But if I could do it all in one sitting, then I’d just write the book. 

The wave of talking builds. Better we should not speak but let it grow within. ~Rumi

Yeah, I’ve tried that, Rumi.  But I feel like I’m 10 centimeters dilated, and I have got to PUSH!  Dammit!  (I repeat:  I am not pregnant.)