I love blogging. I really do. Blogging has reawakened my passion for writing. It has given me a place to share and explore some really tough feelings. The beauty of blogging as opposed to journaling is the feedback. It helped me find a community of people who understood and offered support. And it has even gone above and beyond that by helping me to heal from some hurts, and by bringing new friends into my life and helping me to communicate more openly with my existing friends who follow along. I really do believe that blogging has enriched my life for the past two years. For that I am very thankful.
Some people, I know, are of the opinion that one shouldn't continue to write a blog about infertility once they are pregnant or have had a baby. Maybe you think this too, and that's okay. This is just my opinion, as always. I don't know exactly which direction my blog will take in the months and years ahead. I would love to keep blogging and I'm pretty sure that I will do that in some way. But what I can't do is stop writing about infertility and miscarriage. It may not be the topic of every single post, but it will always be part of my life. It is a huge part of my story and my personal testimony. Like it or not, it has had a large role in forming who I am today (for better or worse).
You see, I don't look at having a baby as the end of my struggle. Oh, I can definitely see how in some ways it is. It is without a doubt what I've been working for and trying for, and I know that the day our daughter is born will feel like a completion, or a culmination, in a way.
But here is something that I think a lot of people don't quite grasp: Having a baby does not replace a baby or babies that you've lost. It doesn't magically wipe away years of grief and hurt over the loss of those lives. And I suppose that this is debatable, but I don't believe that having a baby makes a person no longer infertile. Maybe that seems like an oxymoron, but I was "fertile" for six years and pregnant six times, yet still didn't have a child to raise. Conquering pregnancy loss or infertility one time and bringing home a baby doesn't mean your reproductive problems are all "cured."
That's why I don't see my journey as over. This is not a resolution to this problem for me. For as long as I live and as long as I write, my history and my experience with infertility and loss is bound to come out. It's part of who I am. My daughter will know that it's part of her story, too. I don't by any means think that it defines who I am, but it is certainly part of me.
It's also true that my experience with infertility and miscarriage has changed the way I look at things. I think we all have our filters -- the things in our past that make us see things the way we do. It's unique to each and every one of us and that's kind of what makes the world go round. And frankly, that's what I find interesting about people and about blogs. No one has the exact same story and I love to hear different perspectives.
This blog hasn't been so much about my quest to get pregnant and bring home a baby. That's not why I started writing it in the first place. It was more about how it felt to live with recurrent pregnancy loss and how I personally tried to find my way through that valley. That's why I don't think that the topic will die when I have this baby. I'm still finding my way. I'm still trying to live with what I've been through. My wounds are still healing from this battle. I know that our miracle baby will add a lot of joy to this journey and I'm so happy about that! It is long past time for us to feel some joy after so many losses and it hasn't come a moment too soon. I welcome a new chapter to this story, but I won't erase the old chapters. Besides, if they weren't there my story would look entirely different. Just like so many times before, it doesn't all end with a positive pregnancy test.
So, I'm planning to continue blogging and to keep writing what's in my heart. I still think I have a story to tell. I hope that it will be one that, even though it started out with much sadness, hurt, and waiting, will continue to become a story of perseverance, hope, and second chances.