That first look, that first touch, that first joyous encounter.
You can’t believe that you’ve created something so unique and beautiful. As you cradle it in your arms, wishing to share your joy with others, your mind races towards the future.
No more sleepless nights…
No more caffeine laden cups of coffee…
No more second guessing…
No more tears of agony…
Wait a minute… Why are you holding a pack of diapers?
Hold on now! I’m not talking about your first KID!!
The apple of your eye isn’t a tiny gal or guy, it’s the first BOOK that you’ve written, and yes, its lovely cover makes you want to cry.
These are tears of joy that mark the end of a heroic saga. Your creative side has vanquished the demons of doubt and trepidation.
Before you even began the naysayers were waving the black flags and chanting…We don’t think you CAN.
This bundle of joy didn’t come easy, it was a creation that stood on the edge of damnation as you struggled with thoughts, words, ideas and facts, not to forget the contemplation, estimation, and presentation.
You wished for mercy, but the story wouldn’t have it…it was either THE END or more years of prolonged agony that would throttle your self-respect.
So now that you look back and also look further ahead, your first kid was a cute miracle, but your first book was an achievement, or even a source of income…DAMN! IT’S YOUR BUTTER AND BREAD!!
It may seem a bit shallow and a little hard to swallow, but there’s no comparison between your first book and your first kid.
And for those of you who still have neither, think long and hard, writing a book is a lonely battle, raising a kid is an everyday struggle.
Whatever you decide, the book and kid are both a matter of pride, the first will carry your name forever, the second will bury you deep…hopefully only after you die.