As we were first getting used to the idea that I was pregnant, technically known as the “Oh Shit” Phase, I wondered about how to write about my experiences. I know there is no shortage of preggo blogs and mommy blogs and earnest, heartfelt, indulgent blogs where people talk about their feeeeelings.
It’s actually an amazing popular genre. I have never waded very far into the fetid swamp of mommy blogs because they scare the shit out of me. I know there are wonderful, supportive communities out there. But there has never been such a vibrant, seething pit of outrage and hellfire as when mommies start judging other mommies online.
I knew I was going to write about being pregnant. And having the kid. And then the stuff we do with the kid. And the places we go with the kid. I thought about starting a new blog, because up until now, Mile73 wasn’t a blog about babies or diapers or poo or spit up or other bodily functions. I was going to try to write about “baby” stuff separately, and I started to think up strategies for a separate blog, while continuing to write about my “usual stuff” at Mile73.
But then. Then, after a trip to the emergency room on the day after Christmas (which I will write about soon), we discovered we are having twins.
Oh shit. Holy crap. Oh shit.
It took days and weeks for that news to sink in. It took about a month for me to really fully examine my feelings about it. For all my endless blatherings, I usually freeze up in the face of momentous, earth shattering changes in my life. It’s one of those instances that remind me: I don’t really know myself as well as I think I do. I don’t have the ability to recognize, never mind articulate, that I sometimes withdraw, turn into a zombie and need to “process.” Much of December and January was dedicated to my zombification. My posts here were rather light because I was a bit, um, preoccupied.
Even as we were excited, and sharing the news with my sister and a close inner circle, I was still a bit frozen about the full enormity of what it meant to have twins. I saw my sister’s face as we told her the news, racing from realization to realization and she said, “This changes everything.”
From a writing standpoint, this transition is going to be a big, big part of my life. Really, my entire life. I’ll be the same person. I’ll write with the same voice. I’ll very likely have much more to be snarky about. But I think I’d be fooling myself if I thought I’d be able to separate this giant new experience into a separate writing venue, while still writing enough on this blog to keep it interesting.
I know that not everyone will enjoy the additional subject matter. I may talk about my boobs. Not in a tantalizing, sexy way, but in a farm fresh dairy cow sort of way. I know I will be apt to talk about my feeeeeelings, because even in the first part of this pregnancy, it has been a bit of an unpleasant roller coaster. I will likely talk about having kids, but keeping the amount of crappy, cheap baby “stuff” to a minimum. We are still dedicated to reducing the amount of crap in our lives, even when we bring our little crap machines home from the hospital.
As much as we know everything will change, we want to hold onto the fundamentals in our lives. We want to take our kids camping. We want to take them out to festivals and street fairs. We want them to love nature and we want them to love riding the bus. These are going to be our kids, after all. If they aren’t demanding poutine by the time they are one year old, Dave might certainly have cause for suspicion.
It’s a big change. I’ll have lots to write about. I hope you will stick with me.