Real

I started a blog for several reasons. It's a great way to keep in touch, I wanted to write a family journal, I'm a little bit narcissistic (meaning I think the world is interested in what I ate for lunch, that kind of thing), but mostly I wanted a creative outlet. I'm not terribly crafty. I like to draw, but I'm not that good at it, I don't have time to be good at music anymore, but i can sit down and share a little bit of myself by writing about whats going on in my head. I think that's what makes a good blog or any piece of writing for that matter is that it's real.

Real can mean the difference between entertainment and an experience. I love people who are real, my best friends in the world are not fake and I LOVE that about them. I love reading books and watching movies that are real. By real I mean true raw emotion. No show, no exagerating, just what is real.

The reason for this tangent on 'what is real' is because that has been missing from this blog for quite some time. I've lost the whole reason I started writing it. I didn't intend to, but it happened. And suddenly I found myself not wanting to write...anything... at all. I didn't know what to write about so when I did write it was superficial and that kind of trigger's my gag reflex. I thought "maybe I'm just done with the whole blogging thing." No, I really used to enjoy it. I started worrying about those who were reading it and as soon as that happened I didn't know what to write or how to make it interesting.

Wow this is long winded...still reading?

So what triggered this failure? I got pregnant. I got pregnant the middle of may, didn't find out for a few weeks but I definately felt the mental slow down. So when you're pregnant, and in the early stages, there is an unwritten rule that you tell no one. Why is that? Usually because there's a chance you'll miscarry and then have to shamefully tell everyone you foolishly lost the baby. You silly mommy.

Thats dark, I know, but thats why I didn't saying anything. Pregnancy takes over your life, it affects EVERYTHING. So what else do you write about when you're trying to avoid the one subject that is rocking your world at the time? Nothing. And the result is superficial blog.

So I got pregnant and I was sick and really really tired. But worse than that I was completely overwhelmed. This little angel was not exactly planned and inside I was FREAKING OUT because I didn't know how I would take care of Sol and baby. I wasn't excited. I hate typing that but I wasn't. For 6 weeks I didn't feel human, I didn't feel like Sol's mom, and I didn't feel like Dave's wife, and I definitely didn't feel like me. But I put on a good face and we were getting through it.

And then I started to spot. The spotting turned to bleeding. All it takes is a threat to that sweet angel spirit inside of you to realize that you would do anything to keep that child. Even if he's only an inch big. But what can you do. Oh humility, how could I have been so begrudging. I wanted this baby. I wanted him for Sol. But he didn't stay. It wasn't his time and I felt him go.

This is what is real. I was pregnant for 10 weeks. I got the privileged of having one of God's sweet children with me for 10 short weeks. I miss him, he was mine and I loved him as deeply as I love Sol. Maybe not as much, I've known Sol much longer, but I definitely loved him as deeply. Will he come back to us? I hope so.

That is where I've been the past few months, that is the reason this blog has been annoyingly superficial and in the end I'm telling you all anyway. Why did I hide it? It seems silly now. Something as thrilling as a pregnancy should be shared because if it happens to be cut short you can't just paste on the happy face as if nothing happened because something did. Something amazing that you shouldn't hide. At least that's how I feel.

From here forward I make a promise to myself to be real. Because I love real and I want to be real. And sometimes hard things really happen, and that should be okay. Right? Right.