Thoughts of gestation permeate my mind as I consider embarking on this blog adventure. For most women, nine months marks the stages of pregnancy. In my case, however, nine were the months that passed before this, my blog was born. Nine months since the accident that literally catapulted me into an abyss of the unknown. Nine months since I started sensing the whispered beginnings of recovery. Nine months of harrowing fears and flashbacks mixed with intentional and random acts of kindness. Nine months of learning what it takes to surmount challenges – both physical and emotional. Nine months of seeking out reserves of fortitude and grace I didn’t yet know existed deep inside of me. Nine months of tackling this personal kilimanjaro, more than a year after scaling the Himalayas.
Nine months of solitude – what else would you call being thigh-deep in intensive physiotherapy and body- and energy-work – coupled with moments of laughter and deep exchanges with friends and family. Nine months of accepting that sometimes plans go awry just when you are in the optimal flow of your life. Nine months … and still counting.