If memory serves me correctly I started my blog within days of finding out we were going to lose another pregnancy, the one and only pregnancy that was ever healthy from the start – the one that was supposed to result in a living baby.  It would be our forth loss.  I quit my job to leave a very bad employer and to focus on my mental health and overall well being.  We began to learn to live on 1 income.  We began second guessing all of our local Reproductive Endocrinologist’s recommendations.  I began researching all things Recurrent Pregnancy Loss.  We began seriously investigating adoption.

But My Perfect Breakdown, started out of a pure desperate need to connect with others and share my (our) story to help others.  After our local RE suggested that I will never meet another person who has gone through 4 consecutive losses, I needed to find someone who could relate and I needed to let others know they weren’t alone.  I also needed to find a healthy release for all of my emotions, and it donned on me that throughout my entire life people have always suggest I write.  Throughout my life, more times then I can count people gifted me journals. But, never, not once, had I ever written a journal or even written anything personal. Something in my clicked that day, and I started a blog.  Mr. MPB came home and I told him all about it – he was intrigued as I had never mentioned this idea to him.  He was unbelievably encouraging so long as I kept it anonymous and he helped come up with the name My Perfect Breakdown.  He began reading every post.  My written words became part of our daily conversation.  And soon enough, our conversations turned to what others were saying and suggesting.  Heck, he’s even been at my side when I’ve met other bloggers in real life, encouraging these friendships.  The point being, this blog has morphed into something I never imagined – it’s my most intimate thoughts shared with the world, it’s a near daily conversation topic in our house and it’s resulted in people I call friends throughout the world.

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And yet, I have to admit that lately I’m struggling with my blog.

I love it.  I love writing.  I love the emotional release – in fact, I think I need it.

But, more and more, I feel as though my blog is turning into a mommy blog.  I never thought I’d be a mommy blog.  Heck, when I started my blog, I never thought I’d ever be a mom, let alone be a mommy blogger.

I know my audience includes a lot of people who struggled with infertility and loss.  I also know some, but not all, have gone on to have a child or two.  I never want to hurt those who may be struggling and when I write about our daily lives now, which clearly has to do with parenting, I cannot help but feel guilt and worry for those who may read and may be hurt.  I know that my blog continues to offer support for those going through miscarriages, as I still receive emails and notes on old posts about our experiences with misoprostol, D&C, natural miscarriages and termination for medical reasons. Based on my daily stats, I know people still come to my blog daily for basic miscarriage information.  And, so, if I’m honest, all of this makes me unsure about being a mommy blogger.

In addition to all things infertility and loss that still impacts my life, I know my blog attracts those interested in adoption and international adoption which clearly also impacts my life.  I also suspect some people are just interested in my perspective as a mom.  And, I know some people read about my experience of loosing my mom and sister in a car accident when I was just a teenager myself.

But, where does that leave me and My Perfect Breakdown?

And yet, as I consider my audience, I also know that my blog truly helps keep me sane.  It has taken almost 2 years for me to share about our not so good experiences with our USA adoption agencyThe Worst Experience of our USA Adoption: Part 5.  And, I needed to get that out both for others considering adoption, but also for my own mental health.  And I know I have more to say about adoption as time goes on.  And I’m sure I’ll also have more to say about our losses which I will forever carry in my heart.  And probably more to say about my heart’s desire for another child.  My life simply isn’t one thing or another, I seem to be some sort of a mush of random(ish) thoughts all mashed into my brain which ebbs and flows over time.  Which means in many ways My Perfect Breakdown has become a true expression of me.  The good.  The not so good.  And sometimes the downright bad.

But, my question today is, how do I grapple with my reality of blogging as a mom after infertility?  How do I maintain My Perfect Breakdown without hurting those at their most vulnerable time? Is this even possible?

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Word Explosion

 

Everyone told me:

Give him time, he’ll start talking when he’s ready. 

He’s still young, don’t worry about it.  

Boys are later to talk. 

One day he’s going to wake up and just start talking.

Heck, even the pediatrician told me he’s right where he should be.

Well, it appears that everyone was right as it finally happened.

It’s as though something just clicked in Little MPB’s brain and he now knows more words then we could ever attempt to count.  He picks up multiple words a day.  In fact, if we say something he now just repeats it.  He’s also decided to mimic every animal sound too.  For a long time, he just roared like a lion.  Now, he moo’s, woof’s, tweet’s, meow’s, etc.  In fact, he may have the cutest little meow I’ve ever heard – it’s more like eeeeoooow.

I guess this means I really have to stop swearing now.

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I am thankful his speech has finally taken off.  But, I think this has been a very valuable parenting lesson for me – I cannot control everything (I know, this should be obvious, but that’s not how my brain works).  I obsessively worried about his speech development.  I researched, I talked to speech therapists, I took Little MPB to a pedestrian, etc.  Yet, I never self-referred to formal speech therapy – I consciously forced myself to back off and listen to the experts who kept saying there is nothing to worry about yet.

I guess, just because something doesn’t happen in my way on my schedule doesn’t mean it’s not okay.  Little MPB is his own person after all, he is bound to do things in his own way.

Please remind me of this little parenting lesson when I have a stubborn teenager.

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