It was just about this time three years ago that I first discovered blogs. Charlie and I had been trying to get pregnant for well over a year at that point, and it was clear that we had some serious issues but we didn't know what they were yet--or at least not the full picture (we knew Charlie had a low count, but not that we would require IVF+ICSI to get pregnant).
At the time, I knew about on-line support systems, since I'd gotten through about six months of W*eight Watchers using their message boards. Eventually, I found Fertility Friend and started hanging out around those boards for a while (back then, they were free).
Although there wasn't anywhere else, really, to go, they didn't work for me. They were full of people who had eight million flashing tracker things in their signatures, there were pounds of baby dust (I know I'm not the first to say this, but baby dust? Seriously? What's it made up of, ground up baby? Gross), and they gave lots of (((hugs))) no matter what you said ("I picked my nose!" "That's awesome! Baby dust and (((hugs))) ).
Buried in there, I found a couple of threads I liked. One was a group of local ladies who have become important people to me--thank god for them. No way I would have made it through without them. I also hung around threads that had some folks that had a similar liberal bent, and it was on one of those threads (I believe it was the "sperm donor" board, which was primarily used by lesbians), I found a link to three blogs: Getupgrrl, Julie, and Heather (the woman that posted it did note that Dooce's site was actually a parenting blog, not an infertility one).
God bless that woman, whoever she is. She is personally responsible for my sanity, my blogging, and some of the best friends I've ever had. Thank you, mystery lesbian using a sperm donor! Thank you.
Back then, Getupgrrl was the shit. I spent days and days reading her entire archives (I'm so sad so many of you never got to know her--she's the founder of this shit, yo). I've never laughed or cried so hard in my life. Then I read all of Julie's archives, and again, I laughed and cried and laughed and cried.
They lead me to Danae, and Tertia. Oh my god, Tertia. I had no idea, of course, what lay ahead for me--but her stories about Ben's loss wrecked me completely. But then they sustained me after I lost the twins--I knew if she'd managed, somehow, to survive losing her son and go on, I could too.
I'd never read anything like what was on those blogs. It was a memoir-in-progress, and the writing was raw, bitter, direct, clear and funny as fucking shit. These women were like me. These women understood. These women HATED baby dust as much as I did.
I've been writing as long as I can remember. Most of it sucked, and what I wrote during my late teens and twenties was primarily poetry. But I'd been sending long funny emails to my friends detailing my visits to the fertility doctor, and they all thought I'd be great at blogging. So in March of 2004, I took the leap. I emailed Julie, asked who hosted her site, bought my own and started blogging.
Moments before I launched my own blog, Karen started hers. She'd already been reading and emailing Tertia and Julie and Grrl before I showed up on the scene. She, along with the others, welcomed me to the fold. In fact, Karen was my very first commentor. As time went on, I met other amazing women like Julia, the other Julia, Jodi, Monica, Brooklyn Girl, Jo and so many, many others.
Oh, how the times have changed. Since those early days (only three years ago, but the dark ages in bloggityland), hundreds, if not thousands, of other infertile women hopped on and began posting their snark. If you own an internet connection and are infertile, there is no way you can feel alone. Hell, it's crowded out here.
And now the "old heads" are disappearing. Danae dropped out ages ago. Grrl has been missing for over a year (ye gods, how I miss her). Jodi hardly ever posts anymore. And now Karen, trainwrecked one too many times, has finally shut her blog down. This makes me so sad!
Of course, the few of us still around (and forgive me for including myself in the ranks of the "old heads"), our blogs have changed. We almost all have the long awaited child now (or children). Our blogs may not feel safe to those still in the infertility trenches; I mean, who wants to read about some blogger complaining about their kid having diarrhea (you know, like I did yesterday) when you would give just about anything to have the same problem? Not me, I'll tell you. I would have hated me back in the old days. So I guess it's not a shock that so many of us have stopped blogging.
But I love these women (even when they don't love me), and I hate to see them go. As I said to Karen in a recent email, I've been on the road with them for so long I'm not sure I will recognize it without them. I understand, sort of, what's made them leave. But I still feel like the conversation is on hold, rather than being finished. I find myself waiting, hoping someday they'll come back. And hey, sometimes they do .
I've thought a lot about whether or not I should keep blogging. Actually, that's not true. Of course I'll keep blogging, even when the only people reading are my mother and Sarah. Blogging has become a crucial part of who I am. I can't imagine my life without it, without all of you. For now, I'm staying right here, typing til my fingers are nubs.
After all, if I didn't, who else would I get to tell the following hilarious tidbit to?
Charlie, Tori and I are going to be playing Joseph, Mary and Jesus in my church's Christmas Eve service. Charlie wasn't sure at first, but finally decided that if I could get away with playing a virgin, and Tori could play a boy, then he could quiet his atheist heart long enough to be Joseph. I find this fact HILARIOUS. If you are in the area and want to see this historic event, it's at 7:30 pm Christmas Eve. Heh.
