Sometimes I use my blog as a diary.
Not in writing, but in reading. I'll go back to old posts, ones I thought were great that actually stink, ones I never really cared for that now I think, "Man, that's good advice... I should take that advice..." and then sometimes, like today, I go back for clarification.
I came across a Facebook memory today in which I simply asked "When did this become my life?" Now, as most of you know, infertility and everything surrounding it was a big part of my life - and was the theme of this blog for a very long time. But, I knew my status update from 2009 was more than that. I knew what my readers didn't know: plainly, that I was living in quite another hell altogether, which defined my emotional state. Sure enough, I was right.
I found this post from that date.
In that post, I refer back to this one.
Then, later, after everything fell apart and then some, I wrote this one. I actually called that, end of January 2010, my Golgotha. BAHAHAHA. I was such an idiot.
Speaking of being an idiot, that post came immediately after this one, where I claimed that it was the solitary occurrence of Jan 2010 that would ruin our lives. Ummmm, no. It was the stuff that was causing all of the other sh*t, including what happened in Jan 2010, and what continued to happen thereafter, that was ruining lives.
Anyway, if you've been around since the age of the Catholic IF Blogger Dinosaurs (you know who you are), you've read these posts before. But, there were always lots of "infertility" posts in between to pretty things up and to help this other cross become hidden by the facade of this blog.
Until it cropped up again here.
And in this one that immediately followed it. When I finally took a looooooong sabbatical. Over, and over, and over again.
And the hidden cross that made itself inescapable in 2013? I've never discussed here. And likely never will. It is content for another media, my book, date of writing TBD ;)
But, it has been there, all along. And reading these posts again, I just want to go back to that younger and less seasoned version of TCIE and hug her, let her cry, let her finally talk about the hidden pain, and face reality. Infertility was easy to talk about. And oh, how I embraced the opportunity to pour all of my hurt into that cross I embraced. While the cross I refused to face was threatening me, daily...
And I accept it - now.