Time marches on.

Today is the third anniversary of my first post here.  My third blogiversary, if you will.  Frankly I don’t feel like saying a whole lot about it, but I do feel like I should at least make a note of it, since I apparently glossed over nearly the entire months of both November and December last year.  I still have a hard time writing about the reason I started this blog, having a miscarriage.  I started writing here looking for a therapeutic outlet, though it’s served several other purposes as well over the past few years.  When I think back on the time between mid-September and late November 2006 I wonder how the hell I was keeping any sanity (not well, to answer my own wondering).  It’s not a pleasant reminiscence.  I was doing way too much Dr. Googling and reading infertility horror stories on the blogs of those who’ve lived through much, much worse than I have.  Grieving something I hadn’t realized I wanted until it was long gone.

What-if is not an advisable game to play, so of course I do.  Had that pregnancy yielded a baby, it would have been a wanted child, if a completely, irresponsibly unplanned one.  On the other hand, the idea of us now having a two year old is pretty much laughable, somehow.  I don’t know why that is.  I suppose as time’s passed, I’ve not let myself put a timetable on the plan to spawn, so as not to obsess over it and force us into “trying” when really, the circumstances that would have made the continuation of that pregnancy so stressful (not having much money) haven’t really changed much.  Sometimes I wish I were logical enough to say, we can’t afford it, so we won’t do it.  I like to think I’m a thinker, but I know I’m a feeler.  That wouldn’t be childfree by choice for me, that would be childfree at financial gunpoint for me.  Like signing myself up for heartbreak, giving myself a reason to resent myself.  I’d like to avoid that, have a kid to resent instead.

KIDDING.

Mostly.  I mean, hopefully assuming we go for it and successfully breed in the nearish future, I fully expect to mourn the loss of freedom that comes with every happy parent’s first special little miracle.  There aren’t all those clichés for no reason, I’m sure.  We’ve made a point to enjoy doing things we probably wouldn’t do, or at least would do much less often, having a kid.  On a small scale, for the most part, it’s not as though we’re very spontaneous or at all extravagant about it, but still.  The simple things like having dinner whenever the hell we feel like it, sleeping in, generally unclean living and just being lazy.  I’m not a total fool, I know you don’t get away with that shit very much with kids.  It doesn’t go unappreciated.  Even buying the house, getting a dog, volunteering with CASA.  Probably would not have happened.  Yes, the adopting a dog thing can be a substitute, something to in theory take the place of or tide one over until it’s baby time, and perhaps it partly was in my case.  But if I drop Dexter off at my parents’ house for a night I don’t worry about him, you know?  Obviously, a dog is not a child.  Is this the distinction that makes me cringe hearing my MIL refer to my FIL as Grandpa because she’s talking to or about the dog?  Or when my mom refers to me as his mama (momma?  OMG)?  Because WOW does it make me cringe.  Like these commercials.  They make me want to punch something, still cringing.  But that’s what I get for watching Gossip Girl, I guess.  Where am I going with this again?  Oh yes, this place.  Where else could I confess such things?  Twitter?  I suppose, but it’s nice to have a place to stretch a statement or seven of the obvious into way more than the 140 characters that could probably do it justice.  Basically, I’ll never really be ready but I just might do it anyway.  Being an ungrateful brat, I don’t think I expressed much if any thankfulness at all in proximity to Thanksgiving, but I am grateful to have this place to talk to myself about it.  Sorry for boring you to tears with my narcissism.  Publishing against my own better judgement, because that’s what I do.  Because I can.

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5 thoughts on “Time marches on.

  1. suntzusays says:

    Much of 2007-8 if I recall you were myspacing some of your thoughts instead of always posting here. For my own part, I don't miss the spam-a-lot comments and bot search hits on that sort of blogosphere. If I was attracting nearly that much traffic for legitimate reasons, my ego size might be by now disproportionately large to the accomplishments of writing some words out on a computer and calling it useful opinion. It is bad enough that people consider even understanding my prose on a given subject a victory. I certainly won't need MORE attention to make me feel better about confusing more people. The advantages of having a built-in-social network to a "blog" were probably useful for other social reasons (imagine that, a social network being useful for a social life…), but I imagine the society that evolved around blogging here in a circle of familiar voices, particularly in the sense of blogging out the therapeutically necessary screams and downward sensations in your own way, was equally useful to recovering some semblance of feeling and the daily movement that resembles a human being's comings and goings. Like those occasions where others communicated whatever sympathy, sorrow, and hope that they could whilst trying to be amusing or diverting forms, only with the internet's penchant for informal formalities.

  2. suntzusays says:

    Also, in fairness to your leaves of absence, I have a month off, such as it is, every year as well. Though my own reasons are quite different and inconsequential by comparison. Besides I prefer depressing bouts of poetic license to communicating even obliquely whatever it is that bothers me on less political or abstract levels (or even that there is anything that exists on such levels that bother me). It gives me something to do besides sit there and it feels more like writing.

  3. Ah, myspace. Good times. Yes, I should go actually delete that. Whatever it aspired to become, it's not happening.Very true. The social network thing sort of at least guarantees a passive attempt at interaction, knowing a post will show up on friends' feeds and whatnot. This is obviously not private, but it's not forced into anyone's view, either. It's easier to say more and say it more honestly (sometimes anyway) knowing that people actually have to seek this out or bookmark it or whatever. If it annoys someone, they don't have to read it. Glad to not be anywhere near big enough a blogger to attract trolls!That'd be March, with beau coup basketball, right?I like the poetry. I don't feel the need to convince myself I get it (as opposed to the prose).

  4. suntzusays says:

    That would be part of the reason yes, it's sort of a distracting month generally. Trolls are easy to kill. You just wait for sunlight and they freeze into stone. Or do these things:http://www.cracked.com/article_16765_p2.html

  5. Hmm…I wonder if there's a distracting BIRTHDAY in that month. Heehee.Ha! The internet might be the other place where the sun don't shine. Good to have alternatives, if just in case.

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