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Talking About What Matters: Lets Get Started

Once upon a time, in a far-away land, a 30-something woman sat at the Mac computer she still didn’t know how to use and tried to come up with a snazzy introduction. Alas, this woman was tired. Her 3-year-old had been keeping her up every night since she peed on a stick. She was dealing with a runny eye from seasonal allergies. Her Spanx were digging into her stomach, but she wondered if she should even admit that she was wearing Spanx? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything, really. But here she was, contributing to the Mom and Caregiver magazine for a year.

Hi. I’m Jordan. *taps mic* Is this thing on?

The Mom & Caregiver magazine came into my life one morning, many years ago. It was between the hours of 7:00-7: 30 am and I was sitting in the fertility clinic, trying to avoid eye contact with the other women who were also waiting for the blood work and vaginal ultrasounds and prescriptions that we needed to make babies. That magazine saved me on more mornings than I care to remember. It gave me something to focus on as tears burned the back of my eye sockets, waiting to see if my baby had a heartbeat or not. I read the articles on infertility as I waited to learn how to give injections for IVF. I dared to look at pregnancy articles as I rubbed my belly at 10 weeks, hoping this would be the last time I would be here (it wouldn’t).

Years later, I met Sabina in person at a photo shoot that my daughter was doing for the magazine. My partner, Celina, and I sat down to chat with her after the shoot. Sabina gave us a beaming smile, took us all in and said, “So! You guys are a same-sex, interracial family. What’s that like?”

“Hmmm… no small talk”, I thought to myself, as I realized instantly how much I liked this woman. We proceeded to talk that morning on racism, infertility, loss, sadness, sexuality and what being a woman today meant to each of us. I explained to Sabina that I am a women’s mental health counselor, a writer, a truth-seeker and teller. I expressed to her that I try to use my own humanity to understand the lives and hearts of those around me, to be with them.

I guess that leads me to my hopes for us here: to connect with you, the reader. To share from my heart to yours. To meet you wherever you might be right now: in the fertility clinic on those cold, lonely mornings. In your doctor’s office, waiting for your antidepressant refill. In the waiting room of a new daycare, as you sit shaking inside. To meet you in your relationships, in your joys, in your heartaches. To refuse small talk, and instead, to talk about things that matter. To remind you that you’re not alone and that life is a weird, funny, disastrous and wonderful ride that we take together.

I am so excited and scared to share my heart with you.

Until next time, may you be happy.

 

 

 

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