IT IS THE BEST OF TIMES

A couple months ago, I set a goal for myself. It should have been a simple and easily attainable goal, and in the weeks leading up to that deadline, I was convinced it was going to go as planned.

After ZGirl’s first birthday, I was going to give up blogging.

I have been carrying around delusions of grandeur for years, hoping to take this community by the nipples. You might assume I’m pretty full of myself to even think it, much less profess it here, but I’m not an egomaniac. I just never realized how much pull there was in the comments and emails of strangers who are willing to take a minute or two out of their own busy schedules to let me know I’m not alone.

When you grow up use to being a wall-flower, you take whatever attention you can get, you know?

There are some days I can’t believe I would ever think of leaving this behind. It’s the days that you’ve offered a shoulder when I’ve found myself shaken to my very core, or to side with me when I think Mr. DD is being a putz, and of course to share in the greatest joy I’ve ever known. And once in a great while, I get an email – out of the blue – by someone who thanks me for being me. That’s a beautiful and humbling experience right there.

But then there seem to be more days when it just doesn’t seem worth it to even log-in to WordPress. Those days I feel as if I’m forcing the anger or the funny. I ask myself is it because I’m not as bitter? Oh, but I am. Am I angry? Hell, yes! Did I lose my funny? Did I ever have it to lose??

Like most bloggers have confessed, I do go about my day thinking, “Oh! That’d make a great post!” so I sit down at my little desk, fire up my lap-top, my thoughts jumbled and still forming like a little cauldron but then Life outside the internet takes place:

 “I’m out of clean work shirts!”

“XBoy has a Time-Sucking Function to go to at 7:00. You want to stay here with ZGirl or take him?”

“Mom, will you play backgammon with me?”

“Mumum – mumum . . .  Mumumumum! MUMUMUM!!!”

While these things get to be annoying in their repetitive nature, I also find some peace in them, because it’s all I really wanted when I started blogging in the first place. Isn’t that what we all wanted when we started blogging (whether writing or just reading) (if you were/are an infertility blogger)? To get life back to “normal”, whatever that normal was?

I’m returning to the normalcy that I envisioned, but I just feel like there isn’t enough rage, bitterness, sorrow and sarcasm to satisfy whatever your needs still are. And quite frankly, I miss having one of my posts linked to when I wrote something that spoke to your heart, your head, or even your funny bone. In fact, I don’t think we link to each other as much as we did in the past (I say with three fingers pointed back at me). Maybe I’m out of touch, or maybe we become so overloaded that we’ve become passive, if not just plain indifferent.

After taking weeks to get this out (I know. It doesn’t seem like it, but I just can’t get it flow quite like I want), I’ve realized that I won’t stop blogging as I had planned. However, I’m giving myself permission to NOT think about posting; to stop reaching for the proverbial Blogging Brass Ring – an “in” to syndication, to publication. I’ll leave that up to those who find writing an unquenchable passion. For me? I just want to stay connected with friends who saw me through my worst and know that right now, this is the best I’ll be. I’ll no longer apologize if it’s not enough for some. It’s more than enough for me.