These days I find the hardest question to answer is the most elemental ‘how are you?’ Especially when the person asking earnestly wants to know about my state of being and isn’t merely performing a courtesy. I have at least five emails in my inbox from friends checking in on me and informing me about their lives. I feel humbled to receive such correspondence, especially when social media makes it easier to simply send an emoji in response to an Instagram story, rescuing you from having to wrestle with vocabulary. I suppose I don’t know where to begin with answering, because each day is so uniquely intense, so bridled with a vast spectrum of emotions, there is no static state of being, which means each answer is conditional, tied to an ephemeral moment. At any given moment I am overwhelmed but also ecstatic; joyous yet also homesick; delighted but also nervous… Motherhood has thrown so many emotional complexities into the mix that are compounded by hormones and other microclimates.

On the one hand, I feel a rush of thoughts that are intricately attuned to my feelings. In the past 10 months, I have experienced my subjectivity in a daringly intimate way. There has been no schism between body and mind, the two have been working in precious harmony to keep me sane, connected, and elated. I find myself frequently composing lines of poetry while doing mundane things. On the other hand, I find I have been almost consciously repressing myself from writing down these thoughts, almost for fear of the interruption that I know will surely come. It might be why I don’t respond to these mails in a timely fashion, because I am afraid of ‘getting into it’ and then having to pause to monitor my now awake child and ensure he doesn’t grab the toilet paper.