To post or not to post

that is the question.

In many ways life is mundane, but it is also a tempest.

When I moved, I thought of picking up blogging again, but I wanted to spend time meeting people here.  But I still spend an inordinate amount of time on the computer, on FB, reading parenting blogs and Montessori blogs.

I could right a blog about life. Or not.

So inspiring, right?

I was happy to receive so many comments on such an abandoned blog -  readers have not abandoned me and are obviously still caught up on their reading. My Google Reader is hopeless. I have too many blogs in there that aren't of interest (quilting?).

I also seem to have lost my voice. Or maybe my focus. I am also not sure how much I want to post about Beanie and her life. It's her life after all. I rarely even post on FB anymore. I know it's a new age, but those are her choices.

I suppose what I lack most in life right now is someone with whom to share deeply. I have acquaintances here, but playdates are not conducive to long, linear talks.  And I am not sure how much I want to share with the whole world wide web (or the 20 people that look here).

But I remember that connection I had with you... reading your blogs, reading comments, writing my deepest and ofttimes most compulsive thoughts. Processing. Sharing. Remembering.

I've also developed a bit of an avoidance coping strategy. No new dead baby blogs, because I just can't take it. I'm not proud of it, I feel like I should repay our community and be there for our sisters.

But I have taken from this blogging world knowledge. Knowledge of everything that can and too often does go wrong. And I am more delicate in asking questions and try to avoid making assumptions. At least I hope so.

And I try to keep conversation open. If someone wants to talk to me about infertility or loss, I like to think that I give off the right vibes and say the right things ('I am sorry to hear that.' AND STOP. JUST STOP!) And I don't deny Serenity.

Those chiding "When will you give little Beanie a brother or sister?" are often answered with, "She has a big sister who died in 2008," cue demure, downcast look (And the 'Shut the F up' in my head) or the "We are only raising one." 

I know who we are, where we've been, but we don't know what may be.