The blogging phenomena seems to be centered around the idea of reciprocating. If one of the half dozen blogs I was reading in my blogging infancy provided a link to another blog directing support for someone facing a failing pregnancy; a BFN after an IVF; or even citing a great post, I went to check it out. I would add them to my growing list of favorites. In that course of time, I not only picked up several infertility blogs, but some wonderfully cooterless blogs as well.
Once I started getting into a groove, as it were, and felt brave enough to add a comment, I found in many instances that either the site owner would acknowledge me by replying in an email or by visiting my site. If they felt sorry enough for my pathetic attempts at writing, they would start to hang out regularly. Sometimes I would read someone’s comment and link back to them and find myself another blog to read. We’ve all done it. But that’s the whole point of blogging. It’s finding someone who writes about something we can find relevant. Someone who "gets it". And sometimes, it can provide a springboard to a separate post (or as I call it, "hitch-hiking").
Recently that happened to me after reading a post by Schmutzie over at milkmoney or not, here I come. She referred to Tony Pierce’s post on How to Blog. It started my own brain juice a’cookin’, but I never got further than just thinking about it (#15 in the How To), especially not as any more than just a filler (aka foo-foo) piece since I seem to be just treading water here at TKO, trying to find my rhythm.
But then, something happened. Now, I’m not really too surprised, and quite frankly, I’m to blame. I gave out my site address a year ago to friends and family because I really wanted to know someone, anyone, was reading. I also did it because I figured it wouldn’t matter 12 months down the road. I foolishly thought I was going be one of those women who would get pregnant after the first IUI with a boy/girl set of twins and deliver them without incident in February. I actually thought it was a damn shame to set up a blog only to never write in it.
Now you would think after I fucked up the first time (see Tony’s How To # 5), and had to move to a new URL, you’d think I’d know better. But I let the stress of the infertility treatments really get to me and the daily retelling to my co-workers of how my clinic visits went wore me down. So I gave my site address to a couple of those people and hoped that would help keep everyone abreast of any of the potentially good (but eventually bad) news.
By the time my 2nd IVF officially hit the crapper, I honestly thought no one In Real Life (IRL) was still reading. I assumed that the daily dose of woe and misery was getting to them as well because my stats did not indicate anyone from Small Town was reading. I didn’t give it a second thought and instead of checking my stats hourly like I use to in the beginning, I stopped checking them at all. I had my niche and I enjoyed my little corner of the blogging community and felt at ease with those who routinely stopped by to offer support, suggestions and rude comments about how much younger they were than me. And that’s my point exactly. You who don’t know me from the crazy bitch who ran their shopping cart into the back of your leg at the grocery store, know me well enough that you can write those comments knowing I will take it in the spirit it was intended. You know me through my blog, and that’s it. That’s pretty goddamn powerful.
No matter where we go with our blogging (whether we write or read), there’s just some unwritten understanding that we acknowledge each other’s accomplishments, losses, brilliance and even their ignorance. No where would I expect that more than in my real life. That’s why when I found out that the people I work with were reading my blog, I was initially aghast. There was not one inkling. Not one word was breathed…to me. Instead I find that the things I have written are discussed and reviewed out of earshot.
Sure my blog is out there for the world to read, but because it’s by virtual strangers I’ve let our inhibitions fall the wayside so I can express those demons that can eat us alive. But when someone you know finds it without your knowledge, it’s as if you left your diary out. Leaving that diary is not an open invitation. And it certainly isn’t a vehicle to use to to approach other people with the information that is read here.
I guess I wouldn’t be as concerned if the people reading were doing so because they were facing infertility (or even just difficulty in conceiving); or had suffered through a miscarriage; or even looking for a reference on how NOT to raise a preschooler, but it just doesn’t seem to have that purpose for these people. It’s an act of voyeurism. One that I would appreciate if it was discontinued. If that’s not possible, then I just ask you remain respectful to what I write here. It’s private. It’s from my gut. It’s from my heart. Getting upset about what you read is OK, just bring it to my attention and we can discuss it further.
So, I will not be going password protected. My initial knee-jerk reaction was to do so. But then once I thought about it and your comments echoed my sentiments, I realized that there are many more readers who appreciate, or at least understand, what it is that I am trying to do with this blog than those who don’t. Ideally, I would like EVERYONE to be happy, but that will realistically never happen. That’s why my main concern is me. I guess if I’m the one paying the bill on this blog, it might as well be what I want to write. Right?