Today is my 3 year “blogiversary”. Three years, and when I hit publish on this one, I will have written 365 posts. A whole years worth of posts.
I do sometimes think about the implications of having so much of my life, and my children’s lives, out there on the internet. I obviously use their real names and pictures. If I ever had a hint that their safety and/or dignity were threatened because of this blog, I would shut it down or make it private immediately. However, at this point, nothing but positive things have come because of the posts I share, and I will continue as long as it remains to be positive part of my family’s life.
When I look back on my first post, I kind of roll my eyes at my almost 9 months pregnant self. Ah, so blissfully unaware of what the future was to hold. I had no concept of what it would mean to become a mother who slowly discovers her child has profound special needs. And to think, back then the only time I’d heard the term “mitochondria” was in 9th grade Biology! I had no idea that this space would be anything more than a show and tell of my family- an electronic baby book of sorts.
This blog is my story- yes, I write for others to read and appreciate the comments and support more than I can express, but I also write for myself. I don’t regret anything I’ve ever shared on this blog, because it’s all authentic and honest. The circumstances surrounding my son’s life are heartbreaking, but having an outlet to share the lowest lows but also the joy-filled high moments is precious to me. I know if or when Grayson leaves us, I will have this record of his life for the rest of my life.
There are some things about parenting Grayson that I haven’t shared, and I do regret not writing about some of them. Sometime in the last 6 months, Grayson changed. My mom and I were looking through old posts last night (and seriously, if you’ve never watched the video on this post, do it now. You will die laughing) and it’s obvious how much more “with us” G was before he was hospitalized in April. It’s bittersweet looking back at earlier posts with pictures of my little boy, because he was so different. And when he changed, after that illness, I didn’t blog about it; I was in denial. But now I wish I had, to have that documentation but also to better deal with my feelings about it.
Assuming I continue this blog, I wonder what my posts will look like three years from now. I wonder if I will still be writing about the struggles of parenting a special needs child along with an active preschooler, or if I will be working through my grief because he’s no longer here. I wonder if I’ll be writing monthly letters to another child, or if our family building is complete and I’ll be moving into the next phase of parenting.
The hardest part of blogging for me is ending posts. I have a difficult time wrapping up my thoughts without just abruptly ending a post or sounding cheesy. So today I’ll just be cheesy. Thank you to all of you who so faithfully read my sometimes rambling thoughts and offer such positive and heartfelt comments. I appreciate them so much. I treasure each of you that I have “met” because of our respective blogs and fantasize about meeting up in person one day. And to my in real life family and friends, I hope you know how much I love, adore and appreciate each of you.