infertility

My family would understand if I had a hand print on my arm, or a black eye.

They don't seem to grasp that some wounds are less obvious. That neglect can be as hurtful as a dozen backhands to the cheek.

We've been a private couple.

Like a bruise changing color, this is transforming and getting uglier.

I think about when I started blogging and it was a blog about getting married, then trying to conceive. Then an infertility blog, then cancer, marital issues, moving, now what? Divorce? (Am I even ready to use that word?) Separation?

Yep, it's three in the morning, and I'm still awake.

And, for some god-forsaken reason, watching Next on MTV. Don't ask. I don't know. I feel about eighty years older than these kids on the show.

I find it funny, and alternatively get annoyed, that this blog is so scattered. Some posts came over from my original blog, Infertile, not inferior. Others were on an interim blog, when I felt I no longer belonged in the infertility blog-world. Some were from a private unpublished journal. This being so, the posts are random.

by MzNicky