What the heck am I doing? It’s a question I’ve asked a lot over the last twelve months. I used to know what I was doing. At least I think I did. But now I’m not so sure.
When I was pregnant with Mr Boo, our much longed for second child, I looked forward to being more relaxed and better equipped than first time round. After all, I’d done it before. So much for confidence.
Now all I know is I know nothing. About Mr Boo’s future or about what our family’s life will look like in ten years or even tomorrow. Frankly, it sucks!
But I do have something of an idea about why I’ve started this blog, even if I don’t know much about blogging or if people will read this. Is there anyone out there?
Since having Mr Boo last April (more on that next time) I have devoured blogs. I had never read one before. Now I feel connected to people all over the world that I’ve never met. And I may never meet Kylie, Amymouse, Jennie, Premmy Mum, Jessi, Tatum, Beadzoid or Mummy Pink Wellies. But their words and pictures have given me what few family members, friends, healthcare professionals or medication could: hope, wisdom and above all a feeling of community. They make me feel less lonely on this crazy, frightening path we tread.
One day I would love for this to make someone else feel the same. But I can’t claim to be doing this for wholly altruistic reasons.
I need to talk.
So much of premmie life is spent not saying things or saying things you don’t mean to make others or yourself feel better, or to give the illusion that everything’s OK, or that you can cope. Such self-censorship does not come naturally to me. In my other life (to which I must return soon) I am immersed in words. In the last year I have become terrified of some (cerebral palsy, infantile spasms, developmental delay, special needs…). But even so, I still believe in the power of words to alter perceptions and change realities.
So here it is: my words; my blog; my life; my feelings. I may not know much, but I think writing this is a good idea. Although I could be wrong.