You all may or may not have heard the big news. You all… have experienced something unique with us. You all are no strangers to the fascination that the beauty, strength, and sheer depth of water has always stirred in me, both in respect and fear, both as an artist and as a human being. When the world feels like it is crushing us, I have always embraced this fear, wielded it as my protection, harnessed that anxiety. There have been many instances of internal peril in our personal histories, but we have not yet drowned. We are still here, breathing. And, somehow, someway, miles away from home, I found love, I found a family, and I am going to be a mother. I don’t know how this will end. I couldn’t say. But I think we’re on the road to happiness. I know we are. I want to share with you something that Jessalyn encouraged me to write, now at which seems like an eternity ago, when I shared with her some of my feelings after a doctor’s visit. I’ve held it as a lantern at my darkest times. I know she’s with us, somehow, when I read it.

I know what you are facing feels insurmountable and untouchable as a challenge. Believe me, I do. I know that unending feeling of drowning and anxiety; I know how useless you feel and how helpless you feel against these struggles, both tangible and abstract. I promise you, one day this will all be absent, this will all be remedied. I know it, in the most irrational pit of my being, that one day, you will be okay. Those around you, as much as they could say for themselves and you for you, you will be okay. You will be content. You might even find happiness. I promise you this. You only need to hold on for this span. You always have been targeting it and focusing on it, whether you knew which form it would possess or not. You were always ready for this, perhaps not willing, but able. You will make this. You will achieve. You will be okay.

I don’t know why I felt the need to post this… I suppose I just felt inspired. I just feel, that in say five years’ time, we’ll be able to look back at our darkest days and smile in triumph. The de facto family, our child’s uncles, of course just as bumbling and useless, and the man I love, laughing at calamity. We will be happy.