The Renaissance

I just happened to glance at my sidebar yesterday to realize that today is my blogoversary. Four years of writing in this place.

I’d love to say it went fast, but looking back it really did not. So much happened in the last four years. I guess time goes fast when your having fun, but when you’re not…? It moves like the speed of a turtle.  Maybe fun is a bad word.  Life has been fun WITH the exception of the expanding my family part.  That sucked.

This week I had the pleasure of going to my annual GYN visit. Now, if you have been reading my posts over the last few years you know I’ve had some pretty disturbing visits. I even put off this visit for a few months because I KNEW the practice was moving. Not going back to that old office was a relief of sorts. I don’t even remember my visits there prior to having David. All I remembered is the sadness of the visits for each miscarriage. Having had so many and tense/bitter moments there I pondered starting over with a new GYN. But I didn’t, and I am glad I did not jump the gun. I have two lovely friends that work there and they scheduled me specifically to get in and out quickly. No loitering in the new waiting room with the large pregnant bellies.

It was the very first visit of a new era of Shelli. There was no talk of infertility or treatment with the doctor (except to say that I am done). Just the standard lady-bits chat.

Now, that I am here, writing this today I look back at the many years of writing, a huge majority of posts were infertility related. A large majority of that cycle related… it’s no wonder my posting has slowed over the last year.  My identity is changing.  It’s time to put that part of my life aside.

My readership has changed as well. Many of my on-line friends have disappeared, either succeeding in the place I failed at or just grew tired of the blogging medium altogether. I hate to say it out loud, but I know that many of my readers didn’t stick around because I was the sad story on the Internet. They grew tired of my cycle failures and miscarriage totals. Who wants to read bad news over and over?? 

Let’s face it, there’s not much to say at this point. I am sad that they do not come back here to comment. I miss them. The ladies I loved so much moved on too… and I am left pining for the good ‘ole days.  Gone are the days when I was lathered in support.  Nowadays I feel like I jilted ex-friend.

For the five or so of you that have held on, thank you. xo  If you are lurking, that’s cool, but it would be nice to have you delurk so I know you are still here.

While I will still be writing an occasional infertility post now and then, I am moving on. To what I don’t know. I am not abandoning my blog, but there will be a time of reinvention this year. A renaissance of sorts. I guess I need to change too, it’s not doing me any good to not change.

As a first step, I am removing the infertility stats from my sidebar. I can’t stand looking at them anymore. It is just a giant sign of failure I need not be reminded of. It will relocate to my “Infertility Diaries” page accessible above for those who wish to know the history of me.

Sigh…I didn’t mean for this post to be negative.

Nobody likes a party pooper.  I’m just feeling melancholy today.  I’ve done a good job of censoring myself here, but who am I censoring for now anyway?  It’s time to change.  This I know.

The reality is I love to write.  I will keep writing, and for awhile it might seem a little disjointed… but that’s where I am.  I hope you will all stay, but I understand if you cannot.

Strangely, it seems I have ended up where I started four years ago…  which I guess really isn’t so bad.  Just different.

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14 thoughts on “The Renaissance

  1. Happy Blogoversary…I’m so sorry for not commenting more. I am always reading and absolutely miss the frequency of the posts, but totally understand the feelings of not wanting to post as much as in the past. You inspired me to start blogging, almost 4 years ago – and I thank you for that. I have a completely different subject matter and blog, but I often feel like my posts go on deaf ears. I never really know if anyone is listening. I love to write and will continue to do so, but the feedback is always a nice motivator. Miss you and honored to have been part of your journey, I get how you might feel a little bit of blog identity crisis. I have those from time to time myself, although obviously on a much smaller scale. You are a great writer, I hope you will keep writing and the new voice will come to you. Because I have found that eventually, if you just keep on writing, the picture becomes clearer. Love, Melissa

  2. I'm here!!! And our blogs need to have a party together next year- ok?? I have been horrible at commenting for weeks and have missed my friends. I count you as a dear friend and as long as you share your story I want to read it. congrats 4 years!xo

  3. I'm here! I'm a little different, in that I've only been reading you for maybe a year and a half. Which is of course why I never comment: I just GOT here! But I am reading, in my stealthy lurker fashion.

  4. Infertility is an ever changing game – both for us and for our readers. I have watched my readership go down since I had Rex and I have to remind myself that I am in a new place now – even though I want all of my old friends to be there with me. Never fear, though, I'll follow you until you start talking about your favorite denture cream. Then, I think we'll both be done. :)I hope that you also feel some relief at moving on because it is a giant step, but a necessary step. Close the book on this chapter, look forward and JUMP!

  5. You clearly have a love for writing–four years of commitment shows it. It truly is a great form of therapy and self expression. But I wouldn't bet that people have stopped visiting because you are the "sad story"–I think it is because your blog focus changed. I think the lurkers and the readers who are around to read about IF move on to other places when IF is not the topic–I know I craved all things IF related when I was in that place. And that's the ebb and flow of life I guess (fwiw, my readership has dwindled to, like, four. Seriously.) I'm glad I found you last year, and I'm glad you are still writing. Your words have definitely made an impact on my life this past year.xoc

  6. I'm guilty of two counts, 1) not commenting and 2) withdrawing from the blog world. I suppose it's just that summer has been so busy. I'm home more often in the winter. Sorry for missing your posts:-(I think as 'life happens' and time passes, we all have to change. I love Russell as a 4.5yr old but I also anticipate the years ahead when he matures and discovers new adventures ahead. I pray that this coming blog year is full of refining moments for you… for all of us…Hugs, and congrats on another blog year!

  7. Delurking to say I'm here, I'm here, I'M HERE!!!! I read every post, I just stink at commenting almost as much as I stink at posting on my blog. I have lots to say in comments and I'm constantly composing blog posts in my head, but like alot of things in my life I just never get it done. Sorry you're feeling melancholy. I do too. For me it's a lot to do with the school year starting. It's the same every year since I was a kid. Even after I was out of school and before I had my own kids it hit me every August. Crud, I'm tearing up right now. Anyhow, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, and I'll try to do a better job of letting you know I'm around too. Hope you have a nice long weekend.

  8. This post just moved me to tears. I think because thuogh the story is different, I could have pretty much written the same post, given where I am today. I'm due for a change, too, in essence, because *nothing* has changed. And yes – given what we were working for, what a melancholy place to be it is. (((hugs))) to you, my friend. I'll most certainly still be here for your *next* blogversary.

  9. It's your party and you can cry if you want to. I'm sorry that this is a melancholy day, but I wanted to wish you congratulations too. It's a huge accomplishment — to keep a writing space for this long. And I'm here, waiting to see where it goes next.

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