Back to the Studio III
I almost forgot the third part in my return to the studio.
In September 2020, Mark and I found out we were pregnant again. Seeing the double lines on the pee stick felt very different this time. We were a little bit excited, but mostly wary.
With Mia, and then again with our second child, as soon as we had seen the positive test, we had immediately started thinking about the future. What does this mean for us? How are we going to prepare? Should we try to do another trip before the baby comes? (YES.)
But with this third pregnancy, our thoughts were more like, “Ok, this doesn’t necessarily mean anything though. Let’s not think about it for now.” We held off going to our doctor for the first appointment because I couldn’t bear the idea of finding out we were really pregnant, hearing our baby’s heartbeat, and then going through another loss. Like the last time.
The months went by though, and despite a few scares (one of the test results came back with a red flag, and involved us sitting in a room with a genetic counselor walking through all the chromosomal abnormalities we might be facing), our baby kept growing. I felt the tight, tight grip on my heart very slowly loosen.
It dawned on me that as I was working on my third album, I was also pregnant with my third child. And I was struck by how my music-making journey has been a very faint shadow of my mothering journey.
My first album, like my first child, was full of anticipation. I had no idea what to expect, and I was terrified but excited to start a new chapter — putting my music into the world; raising a human in this world. There were frustrations (in myself), disappointments (in myself), failed expectations (in myself), but there was also a deep belly-warming glow that came with realizing: huh, I did that.
My second album, like my second child, ended with a loss and an ever-lingering grief. The voids of losing my father and then our baby has not been filled (and I don’t expect them ever to be). But I’ve also accepted them as a part of my fabric. I can look back and go “wow, I went through that” instead of “I will never be okay again.”
And now as I’m slowly putting together the release of my third album, we are also hoping for the safe arrival of our third child. I feel a little older, a little more grounded, a little less afraid (relative to before I mean, I’m still mildly terrified). I’m learning not to base my value as an artist on the approval of strangers, and I’m learning not to base my value as a mother on the approval of … myself. I’m just doing what I think I was made to do.
I’m not sure of the significance of this parallel, not sure if there is any, but I continue to sit in these reflections.
When I shared my first post in this little series, someone sent me a message to tell me of a very similar journey she had been on: becoming a mother, having a miscarriage, slowly returning to her art/passion… She said it all made her realize how strong a person she is.
With my sensitive nature and my strong propensity to crying at pretty much anything, I don’t think of myself as strong. But I am continually amazed by how we all go through so much… stuff :), and somehow find a way to keep going. And I love seeing the creations we birth along the way.
p.s. If you’re a parent (or parent-to-be) and artist and want to be a part of an artbook I’m working on, please consider submitting your art here.
p.p.s. A quick update on the album. The songs are done. We did a photoshoot 10 days ago and are waiting for the film to develop (the snow storms delayed the shipping of the film). Once I have the artwork, I’ll be working to get my first single out to wherever you listen to music. You can get updates on my IG account or by signing up for my newsletter in the footer!
