hey there. i’m still here, twiddling these two thumbs. sitting in the corner, eating my crackers, watching the reproductive world pass me by. same shit, different day. seriously, nothing is happening. nothing. last we chatted i had some tough talks and decisions ahead of me, and i wish i could say i had some updates about that. i don’t. still undecided, and not sure when i’ll have an answer.
today i dusted off the keyboard, spit-shined the computer screen and sat down to my blog wanting to catch you guys up on all the nothingness. you know, drone on about the lack of progress in any direction, bemoan the 198271287451 more pregnancy announcements (5 just this week), the declined baby shower invitations, and inappropriate comments made by strangers about my reproductive plans since last we talked. you know, all the fun things. i looked at the screen, started scrolling through my old posts… and i hated what i saw.
my blog was drab. depressing. bleak. and it was the truth. it was my life the last couple years, the rawest form of it, exposed in pixels and characters. and it was ugly. i spent some time going back into the past, revisiting some of the highest highs and quickly falling into the lowest of lows. i felt all the feels. and i cringed. because what i saw all over again was the hurt. the degree of bone-cutting hurt. it was almost as fresh as when it was live, my eyes tearing up here and there. going back was almost re-living it again. i could feel my demeanor change as i read post after post, and all i kept thinking was “how did i survive this?”
and i had this moment… this fleeting thought. this tiny voice spoke out: i don’t want to be that anymore. i don’t want to live and breathe that pain again. i want nothing to do with it. i want to reinvent but not deceive, or lie. i just want to shed some of this scarred skin.
if you’ve read anything of mine since the inception of this depressing diatribe against secondary infertility, you know i hold nothing back. the words that spill onto this screen are the truth as i live and breathe it. i still want to speak my truth, and i will. but i need to distance myself from the depressing, and resuscitate some of the me i used to be. the me in that one old photo, creased and worn from repeated folding and unfolding. that one photo… lost in the mess of some shoebox full of memories. the one where my smile lit up my whole face. i want that back. i want to know i can fully be happy again. no matter what comes my way. i don’t feel that right now, let’s be honest, not even close. this has been a rough week as i am reeling from a rash of pregnancy announcements, and i am trying hard to usher out my best friends, envy and self-loathing. their visits are always surprising and nevertheless unforgiving.
the more i think about wanting this change, i guess i’ve been trying to shed the old me for the last couple weeks, actually. i had a birthday recently, and with that, an epiphany that health should not be taken for granted. i know right? so cliché. i have found myself in situations that jeopardized my health a few times now, and on my birthday i promised me i’d start putting me first. i would start doing something healthy for me, just because. not to lose weight, or gain muscle, or anything. just do something to better my body. so i started running again, slowly, and remembered how good it feels when i’m done. sure, i want to stop as soon as i start like everyone else in the world, but there is so much beauty in the silence of the early morning. just my feet and the pavement, a steady rhythm. alone with my thoughts and breath… it’s therapeutic.
and so i came here as well. another step at resuscitation. a new blog look. don’t laugh, these are baby steps. i went for something more, well… more like the me i want to be. a little more colorful. updated. changed for the better. who am i kidding, i picked this theme because it highlighted what i imagine to be the most-delicious cup of coffee on earth (which i had to quit, don’t get me started) and beautiful script. truth. i want all the caffeine.
ok seriously though… here it is. the moving-forward-me. hope you like it. i can’t guarantee i won’t let some ugly out on here. because, well, it’s me. let’s not forget that. oh and i also have no idea what is in store for our reproductive plans, if any. so it might get real ugly real quick again. any skin i might shed here is great an all, but underneath that new layer is the same unsteady-on-her-feet girl. but i need to do this for me. now. take steps to make me better and hopefully find those steps leading to a strong beating heart in place of a lost, bleeding one. cheers. ❤