Ghosts of Milestones Past

I haven’t really been on the ball with my blogging milestones.

A few months ago I realized that my five hundredth post and my three year blogoversary would probably hit right around the same time. Hm, I thought, perhaps I should plan something nice.

I didn’t.

I did think about it a couple more times, but no more than in passing.

It just doesn’t mean as much to me as I’d like for it to mean.

I think blogoversaries were ruined for me when we got that stupid biased report on my first.

This post is about to go to a dark place. This is not what I meant to celebrate lots of words with. This is not where I planned to go today.

But here I am.

Three years ago last week I started an infertility blog.

Two years ago last week we got a tidy little twelve-page fax in which a ‘professional’ repeatedly stated that I ‘can’t have children.’

Five years ago last week I was blissfully unaware of my husband’s lying and cheating. Okay, not blissfully. But at that point, unaware.

Yesterday I published my five hundredth post.

And now I have that tight ball of fuck this shit in the pit of my stomach. That weight of it’s not fair pushing on my chest. That mass of unscreamed screams in my throat.

Happy blogoversary, indeed.

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