A heady sentiment, to be sure.
Pre-children, you could say that I had very few worthy years. Up until that fateful ultrasound, my life was relatively safe, relatively un-eventful; which I am thankful for.
My childhood was marred only by divorce, but the early 80's were ripe with such statistics, and we made the best of it. My brother and I became experienced travelers before we were teenagers, while expanding our family circle by embracing our new definition of family.
Part of that new definition mandated traditional roles to blur. My dad's younger sister, my aunt Mary Lee, became part of our household, and we forged a bond that can only occur while sharing the day-in and day-out intimacy of shared residence.
I saw the challenges of parenting a newborn through her eyes, and her son (my cousin) was the first baby that I ever held, cared for, and fell in love with.
She lost a long battle with breast cancer one year before I found out I was pregnant. It never occurred to me that she wouldn't be around to witness my parenting struggles.
One year is a blip in a lifetime, but it can also be an eternity.
Since starting this blog one year ago, I've exposed my vulnerabilities on the World Wide Web, for anyone to see, and yet, felt oddly exhilirated at times with the honestly that flows from my fingertips.
I follow a number of twin mommy blogs. And, as melodramatic as this may sound, I credit them (and one in particular) with saving my life the first year after I became a mom of multiples. To some, mommy blogs may appear superficial, but if you look deeper, you can see the framework of their souls, right there for anyone to see. The internet has become a safe place to display your inner demons, your deepest secrets - because we all have them, and everyone can relate.
I've come to respect and admire mommy bloggers because even though it's the internet, it's not entirely anonymous. On the contrary, recently I was introduced to someone I have never met, yet she knew all about me via my blog (hi Jeff's mom!) I was flattered and embarrassed at the same time. Had I provided the parts of me that I would have wanted her to know? Was my true self apparent in the words that I publish on the internet? You can never know a person wholly by words on a screen, but there is a certain connection that comes from sharing secrets, even with strangers.
I'm not big on anniversaries, but it felt appropriate to document my Blog-o-versary (stolen from 6512 and growing). I don't have a giveaway, just more of my innermost self to display here in this magical space that has changed our lives. I just have one question: Will you keep reading?
|Mary and me, circa 1996|