Nine years ago I became a joiner. I wish I had poured my heart out into the first post, but I was so eager to jump into things I pretty much did a “yadda, yadda, yadda” through my introduction to the blogosphere.
I introduced myself as Calliope, an alias I proudly dropped in 2011, and I actually used the phrase, “I’ve got baby on the brain.” In my defense I was only 29 years old and still giddy and hopeful about all things fertility related. Reading the earlier posts on my blog are bittersweet as I wonder how much of myself I lost on the long and tedious journey to motherhood.
The changes in my blog over the years have been a reflection of what was going on in my life, but some things have remained the same. The original name of my blog was Erstellen Mutterschaft. Translated from German (and flipped) it means, you guessed it, Creating Motherhood.
I’ve over shared a lot, I have held back a lot, and I have regretted both. With W now in kindergarten and stepping into an age where his stories are so uniquely his own, I know many of the things I will want to write about will not be mine to share publicly. I will do my best to navigate this new territory (for me) in a way that is respectful of him. So far it has meant less writing and that isn’t so great.
Many blogs and sites fade away after a few years. I absolutely understand how that can happen. It takes passion to open up a blank document and fill it with words or images, and gumption to think anyone other than your mother (hi mom!) gives a shit about it. There are moments where you have to decide why. Why are you writing? Why are you publishing?
One of the things I have learned after nine years: it has to be for you.
It can’t be for the comments, it can’t be for the feedback, it can’t be for the community, it can’t be for the money, and it can’t be for whatever that feeling is when you look at your traffic. Some of my best blog traffic days were on the WORST days and weeks of my life. Some of the posts I loved writing were like trees falling in an empty forest. But damn it felt great to write them.
I’ve pushed myself to write on days when I was meh about everything. And what happened was very bland, boring, and meh writing. Seriously drab. But I chronicled my day. By writing I gave myself validation and let myself know I mattered and maybe the next day things won’t be so meh. I’ve also sat down with no intention of writing more than a little bit of this or that and suddenly turned myself inside out with emotional outpouring. I’ve written when I have been angry, elated, anxious, hopeful, and when I felt alone. Somehow I knew putting words onto the blank space and then rocket blasting them out into the world meant I wasn’t alone.
Writing online has been overwhelmingly wonderful. It has been the constant in my life when so many things have faded away. Thanks for being a part of it.
A Header History of CreatingMotherhood
(clicking the 1st image begins a slideshow, you know, if you want to get fancy with it)