“I'm scared!” I told my husband in the delivery room. It
was go time. We were awaiting the arrival of our first son over 30 years ago. I
had longed for this moment, prayed, like Hannah,
for God to favor me with motherhood, yet there I lay, unable to corral my fears
of the moment and beyond.
“I'm scared of the whole thing!” I whimpered. “Scared
of having the baby. Scared of raising the
baby. I don't think I can do this.”
Shortly thereafter, the nurse came in with pain medication,
which calmed both body and nerves. I turned to my husband with full sincerity
and wondered, “What was I so afraid of?”
All these years later it's just a whimsical story that
every expectant mother can probably relate to. But back then, in the heat of
the moment, at the finishing line, those fears were very real and loomed
impossibly large in the face of what was to come.
I'll be giving birth in just a few days. It's a planned
delivery, one that's well overdue. Pregnant women, when their gestation time
waxes long and perhaps goes into overtime, become cranky and uncomfortable.
Quite bluntly, they want that child out! Having endured sleepless
nights, a contorted body shape, and too much time to think about the what ifs,
they want to see their baby, hold him, hear his tiny cries. At the same time,
there's a panic button that sounds at the moment of truth, and the whole thing
just seems impossible.
Like I said, I'm at that point in my maternity journey.
Exhausted from labor and uncertain of the outcome. I want this baby dearly.
I've longed for her, prayed for her, spent grueling hours planning for her
arrival. Still, now that the moment has arrived, I feel a hesitancy that's hard
to put into words.
Maybe it's because this birthing process has been hugely
different than my other two. For one thing, it's been 10 years in the making.
There were many false starts and false hopes. I endured plenty of losses along
the way, disappointments that made me despair of ever trying again, yet somehow,
I lived to fight another day for what I felt sure was God's will for me.
Enough suspense. I suspect my astute readers have surmised
that I'm not talking about welcoming a rosy infant; rather, at the end of this
month my novel, Belabored, will hit the proverbial shelves
via Amazon in
both eBook and paperback forms. There have been innumerable fits
and starts in this arduous process, but the big
moment has finally arrived. The eBook is currently in pre-order status, meaning
it can be ordered in advance of its actualization, which will be June 28. The
paperback is slated to be available on June 30.
Woo hoo!
So, why am I so nervous?
Could it be because I've never done anything like this
before? Because the anticipation may not live up to the reality? Because the
pre-birth process is only the beginning of a lifetime commitment?
Let's face it – some things in life don't lend themselves
well to do-overs. I've worked and reworked this book, to the point where I'm
almost sick of it. But there's something terrifying about knowing this
is it. My finished product will be in readers' hands; any sentences phrased
awkwardly, or concepts delivered poorly, will be permanently etched in black and
white. I get that authors update their publications, but realistically, how
many readers can be expected to revisit a botched first effort for further
consumption?
Belabored is being brought to
bear via “indie publishing”. In short, I am self-publishing through Amazon's
Kindle Direct platform. The pro side of this process is that it: a) costs
nothing; b) removes the pressure traditionally published authors face to
maintain a high-volume social media presence; and c) eliminates the marketing
commitments traditional publishers expect of their authors. On the cons list is
the fact that their publishing software is proprietary and therefore, doesn't
readily interface with the word processing program I used to create my book. I
wrongly assumed that, after making my final edits (famous last words) to the
Kindle Direct document, I could download the same into an easily retrievable
Word document, then with minimal effort transfer the manuscript into a print
version.
Um, not so much.
I was prepared for this wrinkle, though, because I have at
my disposal a wonderfully talented web developer/designer who is affordable,
personable, and has a positive knack for being able to untangle my most
daunting computer problems. This dear girl had no prior experience with Kindle
Direct, but she has oodles of programming know-how. After first digging my blog
out of the technical abyss which had swallowed it, she turned her attention to
helping me navigate the ins and outs of Amazon publishing.
If we're following the birth analogy, the Lord conceived this “baby”,
I carried it to term, and my tech guru “midwife” helped Belabored emerge
from my hard drive into the light of day.
A true labor of love all the way around. I pray my audience
finds the book worth the wait and worth their time. To God be the glory.
“My heart is overflowing with a good theme; I recite my composition concerning the King; My tongue is the pen of a ready writer.” – Psalm 45:1
