Lurking

Way back in October, one of my favorite bloggers posted this funny/sad spoof of what it’s like to be infertile on facebook.  I thought about re-posting  it at the time but didn’t because a) I am a coward and didn’t want people to know I wasn’t having a TOTALLY AWESOME time trying to conceive and b) it seemed a little passive aggressive to post something like that on facebook.  But I’ve been thinking a lot since then about why it struck such a chord with me.   And honestly, being pregnant again makes it feel safer to talk about how hard it was to get pregnant again.   Yup, still a coward.

When I think about the times I was hurt by something I read on facebook, the posts fall into two basic categories:
1. Things people would never have written on my wall if they knew I’d recently had a miscarriage.
2. Completely innocent, wonderful expressions of pure baby-having joy that hit me at just the wrong moment.

I couldn’t (and can’t) really be upset about either of those.   I mean, it was upsetting, but obviously not intentional and not directed maliciously at me.   How is someone supposed to magically know that I’d just had a miscarriage?  And I would never, never, never want the new baby pics in my newsfeed to go away. They are awesome.  We’re only 3 months in and I’ve already posted one pic of Little Scooter on my wall. I’m optimistically looking forward to sharing more.

All that said, facebook is a bit of a minefield if you’re feeling blue.  I know I tend to share more good news than bad news in my updates, which I think is generally true and tilts the whole experience a bit to the manic side (everyone is so happy; All the time.  Really?)  The answer usually given is “then just don’t go on facebook.”  Yeah, but further isolating myself when I’m blue is worse. 

There’s a lot of hidden sadness out there, a lot of loss we don’t know about lurking in the hearts of even our closest friends.   I don’t think it’s possible to make it through life and never accidentally step on one of those wounds (I know that’s graphic, but it’s exactly what it feels like.)  When it happens, we can hope that our friends will not be too hurt to tell us what we’ve done, to share enough of that pain to open our eyes and change us forever.

Even if it’s impossible to avoid every unintentional pain, I’m going to try to tread lightly, here.  I’m planning to keep baby-related facebook updates to an absolute minimum and throw myself into keeping this baby blog updated—the blog will be easier for friends to avoid, if necessary.  Of course, for the blog Sean and I will also have to figure out that delicate balance between over-sharing and over-over-sharing.  

I hope you’ll read along as we figure it out, as our joys and challenges continue.  We added a nifty little subscribe feature (shameless plea: Subscribe to our blog! Put us in your Google Reader! Follow us!) and we plan to post at least weekly, if not more often.  As nervous as we still are (and probably always will be) we are also very, very excited.  We hope you’ll come along for the ride!