When I found out I was pregnant nearly five years ago, I:
1) Had a very fuzzy recollection of how that could have happened.
2) Had the sudden urge to drink entire cartons of milk with my third Big Mac of the week.
3) Had a very big secret.
I am not good with secrets. Or privacy. Or boundaries. I am the queen of TMI. So I started a blog, because while I wasn’t ready to tell my close friends and family about my barf-inducing zygote, I didn’t see any reason I should keep it from the entire Internet.
So I started a blog. Nowadays, you might call it a Mommy Blog, but it didn’t start as a Mommy Blog. In fact I had no idea other people with babies were publishing their stories online. Nor did I care. Because I wasn’t a mom yet. I was just a girl (with a very fun girl-about-town lifestyle), who could no longer drink or stay awake past 8 PM.
I had no idea that I would grow an audience; that people would care what I had to say and relate it to their own lives. But blogging has been a life saver for me. Often, it’s just the fact that someone is there — almost instantly — to make you feel less alone. Having a network of people to offer advice or just tell you they are going through something similar… well, it’s better than sharing six kids with Brad Pitt. (Almost.)
I’m here until Friday. Try the meatloaf.