The first ever blog I came across (before I even really knew what a blog was) was The Heir to Blair. I had just found out I was pregnant for the first time and was searching the internet for every piece of information about babies and pregnancy that I could possibly find (I don't recommend doing this by the way, the internet is scary). I stumbled upon her blog right around the time discovered she miscarried her first pregnancy. I read a little and my heart ached for her but I turned away from it before I started imagining myself in a similar situation. Because that would totally never happen to me, right? I went on to read only positive things and soaked up every bit of information I could that I thought would prepare me for pregnancy and motherhood.
A short couple of months later I, too, miscarried. The day before my D&C I found myself searching the web again, this time for information that would comfort me and help me better understand what was happening. I was brought to Blair's blog again. I read. and read. and cried. Her journey, her sorrow, her strength. The fact that she was so open about how she felt, made me realize I was not alone. There were other women going through the same thing. I learned that it was ok to not want to get out of bed for a week. To cry for days at a time. To find comfort in chocolate and reality tv (at least for a little bit). But more importantly I learned that there was life after miscarriage.
When Blair announced that she as pregnant again, I cried (I blame messed up hormones). I found myself silently clinging to her for hope. Somehow I thought that if her pregnancy survived, if she made it all the way through, than I could too. I read her blog everyday and with each passing month, as her belly grew, I got more and more optimistic. And when her son was born, I cried again (hey, I was still very hormonal, ok?). Is it crazy to feel so emotional about someone you've never met? Absolutely. But it helped me recover. I helped me build my own strength and this unbreakable confidence that everything will work out.
So yeah, sometimes I get pretty personal on here. I write to anyone who wants to read about things that some people don't talk about to anyone. It makes me vulnerable and exposed. But those emails I get from people who have read about my story? The ones with inspirational stories they want to share? The ones who are having similar problems who seek advice or comfort? Those remind me that someone is always listening. That sharing your story (no matter what it is) is important.