to blog or not to blog...

So recently I've contemplated the concept of restarting the blog... and I found myself asking the following questions:

1. Why?
2. When?
3. Why?
4. About what?
5. Why?
6. How?

and lastly

7. Why?

I'm seeing a theme here. First I have to admit that my reason for blogging before was mostly selfish. The blog to lose blog served as an outlet for my pent up feelings about weight loss about my bad self image and about my fitness routine. I was pretty faithful to the cause, weighing and recording and updating my progress. I appreciated the feedback from my readers and relished the praise of my efforts. When I reached my "goal" weight and found myself still dissatisfied I kept blogging for a time as I continued on the path to inner peace or whatever thing it was a I was looking for and then... WHAMMO. I realized something. Big. HUGE. I wasn't finding it. It wasn't what I weighed. It wasn't how far or fast I could run. It was something else entirely. So I made some major life changes. And by major can I say Major, capital M? In fact I don't think it would be a stretch to make that... MAJOR. In the course of the aforementioned changes I stopped blogging. There were a couple of pretty compelling reasons for this 1. I was really too emotionally busy to write 2. How do you adequately explain turning your entire life upside down?

Without too much detail (because no one has the time to read all that) let me recap, mostly in order:

1. This began with separation from the husband of 15 years (and subsequent divorce). This included: sharing visitation of children (which is a lot harder that you could imagine), move into apartment, division of assets (which is to say, I took my clothes and all the debt and he took the DVD's and my dog), arguing, making up, some periods of time where we hated each other, other periods where we loved each other and yet other periods where I thought my life would never feel normal again. Unexpected side effects of said divorce included: missing my in-laws (who would have thought I needed them so much) and an almost complete severing of ties with my family (which would require another blog entirely)
2. Professional specialty change (from labor and delivery RN to Hospice RN. How much more opposite can you get there?)
3. New incredible relationship (with the boy who caught my eye at the 6th grade spelling bee)
4. Move into second, larger apartment.
5. Pregnancy (Yes. Planned).
6. Purchase of new home (and third move)
7. Wedding (at 8 1/2 months pregnant. Also planned).
8. Birth of baby @ home. Yes, on purpose. (at 40 weeks and 5 days pregnant).

So... you can see the issue(s) A. When would I have had time to blog? And B. How would I even begin to explain all that?

But now, with all that part of the preceding chapters of my autobiography written I can, again, begin to consider the "blog" as an outlet. But wait, what do I need an outlet for anyway? We blog what we know, or in my case, what we need.

That brings me, in a round about way, to my point.

I no longer need the blog.

Well.Well. Well.

How about that.

That's not to say that blogging doesn't have a place or purpose in my life. I like to write. Actually, given accommodating circumstances, I love to write. Well. Let me say that another way. I love to talk. And writing is like talking for people who 1. don't have a captive audience or 2. don't want to look completely insane talking to themselves or alternatively 3. people who like numbering things like an outline. Anyway, it's not that blogging doesn't have a place or purpose it's just that I might have lost my target audience.

Begging the question: Do my former blog to lose readers want to read about how I used to weigh 124, far too thin, mostly muscle pounds? And how that WAS so NOT The Answer (capital T capital A). How I then turned my life over and around and upside down looking for The Answer. How I got peaceful, gained an intentional 20 pounds, got pregnant and gained yet 50 more pounds. How I felt like I should care that I was gaining weight, but how basking in the glow of love and the creation of new life, marveling at the amazing things my body was doing (as we should), I barely even noticed. How I now, at one month postpartum, weigh 168 pounds and only care because I don't have any clothes that fit.

Maybe.

But I'm not entirely sure I even care to blog about that. In my oxytocin induced baby haze all I can think about is this little beautiful creature we created. I'm giddy with baby love and at the same time painfully aware that there is no toilet fairy that comes while you're sleeping to scrub your bathrooms for you.

Besides that, my relationship with my body has changed. I... wait for it, believe in natural childbirth. In fact, I believe in natural mostly everything (except diet pepsi which is far from natural). I always believed in natural childbirth, it's just that for whatever reason I couldn't seem to achieve it. Pitocin. Pitocin. Pitocin. It's the devil (but that's for another time). But one month ago today (not lunar months, the other kind) I had a 10 pound 6 ounce baby. In. My. Kitchen. And though every birth of every child has changed me a little bit, this one was the earth shattering, mind blowing experience that will forever effect how I see myself. And all 168 pounds of my body.

So what I need right now is to bask in the love of this new little person. Let the toilets be dirty. Let the scale get dusty. Let the running shoes rest.

That's what I need. So I guess that's what I'll blog about...

Beautiful Little Creature: