I’m wrestling with what I’m doing with this space. I’m going to keep blogging, because I don’t know how to not write, and because I still believe that there’s value in connected experiences. I’m just having a bit of vertigo – the world is swaying with the force of change.
I haven’t even edited the About Me page, confusing visitors to the blog to no end, I imagine. Because over there is cheerful me, slightly annoyed with the fertility process but so excited about what is to come. I’m having some trouble erasing her. She has no idea.
How did I end up, in less than a year, morphing from writing a queer fertility blog to a queer pregnancy blog to… this? I don’t even know what to call this. There’s a community out there that I had no prior reason to ever seek out, and those blogs give me comfort in the wee hours of the night. They use the term ‘babylost’. Is that what I am? It sounds piercingly accurate.
I may be trying to define this too much, needing the messy unfurling of this time to fit neatly into a box. I’ll write a queer babylost blog – an educational experience! – and then in a few months it will transition smoothly back into a fertility blog, and I’ll get pregnant quickly, and the pregnancy blog will be full of boring anecdotes about how normal every single scan is, and then I can finally get on with the business of posting some pictures of a baby doing ridiculously cute things. If only grief worked like that. If only life worked like that.
But all I can do is what I know how to do – try to tame words to make sense of things. So bear with me in the next months, if you can. Because this may be a grief space for a while, and then more likely a space about how terrifying it is to plan for another baby. And, I suspect and fear, about how grief doesn’t end magically when you decide to move on.
A life blog.