I first blog-posted one year ago today. My first post in its entirety was:
For quite a while now I have considered blogging as a means to deal with what is happening in my life right now. And what is happening? Oh, not much, just:
Career in the crapper.
Marital stress (which seems to be improving).
Public role as the “lovely wife of…”
Upcoming move to who knows where.
So, this is the start. Stay tuned.
Wow. If the person who wrote those words had any idea what the next year would hold, she might have just hid under the covers instead of blogging.
I’m glad she didn’t.
My whole world back then had a totally different center, a totally different focus. I did make a move to “who knows where,” but not because of X’s job. That I thought my “marital stress” was improving just makes me laugh an ironic little laugh now. I have no public role now and obviously am no longer the “lovely wife” of anyone.
There’s another one, though, that still seems like it’s a huge part of me, of who I am.
Infertility. The identity you can never quite shed.
I’ve talked before about how I have infertility to thank (and I mean that without snark) for waking me up to the reality of my own life. That’s not what I want to say today.
I started blogging because the pain of infertility (co-existing with the loneliness in my marriage) had me incredibly desperate to connect with someone, anyone who understood what I was going through.
I didn’t just connect with “someone,” I found a community. I found friends.
Thank you, friends, for seeing me through this year, quite certainly the hardest year I have lived so far. Thank you, friends, for being a bright spot in my day, especially on those days when you were the only bright spot. Thank you, friends, for believing in me, encouraging me, and talking trash about my ex. And more. So very much more you have all done for me.
So this blogoversary is not just mine. It’s ours. Congratulations to you all for being amazing.
Here’s to many more years together.