When I first started blogging it was February of 2003. My friend, Sheila, had started blogging some time before that, and I read her posts (in her blog’s original incarnation, and started to think it would be kind of fun to try that myself. So, after much deliberation, I thought of a name for the blog and started typing. Alex was not even a year old (wow) and I look back on some of my posts I cringe a bit because I was still stumbling around finding some sort of voice for myself. But oh well, we all sound like idiots now and then. I stayed with that original site for part of a year, and then I switched over to a different server that seemed, at the time, to give me more options in how to set up the site.
I was just looking back at the first posts from that old site. I set up the blog and found out I was pregnant in the same month. Alex was 8 months old. I’d lost one pregnancy before Alex, and I would lose this one as well. Both losses were pretty early on, and while both losses were heartbreaking at the time, I never felt like I’d lost babies. I don’t mourn them the way I mourn the losses of my grandparents, my mother. I don’t think that those brief lives are hanging out in Heaven or anywhere, waiting to meet their parents and siblings one day. I think…things just happen some time. And I have two healthy living children, and that’s plenty to think about.
Anyway, after I found out that I was miscarrying that pregnancy after Alex, I decided to just keep my mouth shut if I ever became pregnant again. So later, when I became pregnant with Julia, I couldn’t tell anyone, but I had to talk – or write – about it.
So I started another blog. It was to be temporary. A place to talk about the pregnancy without telling anyone too soon. And it was very temporary. I ended up blabbing to my sister and my parents…and I don’t remember who else, but it was certainly before the relative “all clear” had sounded, trimester-wise. So once I’d made that pregnancy general knowledge, I stopped writing there. But I’m glad I wrote those posts, because they chronicle the beginnings of Julia. Oh, and the title and subtitle of that blog? Not meant to be obnoxious. I was kind of amazed that, at my “advanced” age (for pregnancy, apparently), I could even get pregnant once, never mind a bunch of times. And I know it’s not something to be taken for granted. I don’t. At a point in my life, I figured I’d just never be married, never have kids. I made my peace with it, too, and started planning a solo life. Then stuff happened.
I started reading some of those old posts in both blogs a couple days ago, and I’m SO glad I typed that stuff. Things I’d forgotten – like Alex’s early words and the cute (or annoying at the time) little things he did. I can hear his little voice.
Sometimes I miss those early years, when the kids were babies and toddlers. All the newness, the discovery, the hilarity and insanity and sleeplessness of it all.
But then I don’t miss it, because my kids are pretty entertaining right now, too. And they don’t need diapers. They can do a lot of things themselves. I don’t need to carry them, or wrestle them into car seats when they DON’T want to be here. (I can remember more than once having my knee (gently) on a chest so I could click straps into place while the child was arching his or her back and fighting with such amazing strength for such a small person.
Time has flown.
I’m glad I was able to capture some of it.