Dawn is getting old
Back when I first started blogging, there weren’t zillions and zillions of us. When I went looking for people writing about infertility, I found about five. Maybe six. One of them was Milenka, one was MizJenna, one was the first incarnation of Jenex (she had another one between her first and this last one, too) and was that it? That might have been it. No, wait, there was Suspenseful over at diaryland but her blog is down. Oh and Mae Midwest.
I know this because I started a webring for infertility blogs and I periodically went searching for infertility blogs.
Then there came Julie and getupgrrl and between the two of them, they inspired so many infertility and adoption bloggers that I could read 50 a day and still not keep up.
Suddenly, the infertility/adoption blog world became a community and that was great except when it was awful. Because where there’s a community, there are obligations and in-fighting and popularity contests and laments about no one commenting, and worries about stats. And one day I read something where someone said that blogs were becoming like those ubiquitous geocities sites and this radical sharing started looking mundane to me. I started losing interest in updating. I started thinking about how many hits I wasn’t getting. I caught myself getting annoyed when adoption bloggers I linked to didn’t link back. I began to get downright curmudgeonly, like Dana Carvey’s grumpy old man character.
“Back in my day, we couldn’t just google our way to a blog entry about Clomid-induced psychosis! No, back then we had to write our own! And we liked it!”
I did like it.
I have trouble with progress.
Love the Flannery O’Connor quote by the way. She is my favortie. Would have had a child named Flannery but it rhymed with our last name.
I can’t understand all the finger pointing that goes on sometimes. I have the luxury of being an alumni, long before the internet was around. Otherwise I am sure I would be right in there with them. So I sit from the sidelines and am amazed that their are little wars about what someone writes about on their blog. I also have to admit that my feelings are hurt every time an IF blogger writes about how they couldn’t possibly adopt. However, those are my feelings and her blog, so I move on. I know from my history that I wasn’t willing to stay on the IF rollercoaster as long as many of them are. Different strokes for different folks, doobie doobie doobie.
Heck, I miss the days before the blogs arose, and everybody (the few that consituated “everybody,” that is) was hand-coding online journals.
Hi Dawn!
I like reading infertility/adoption blogs even though I don’t have kids yet and haven’t tried to have them, because I find the subject/questions intensely interesting. Your blog is something special because of the transracial adoption/open adoption aspect.
I really, really really admire all the soul-searching you’ve gone through, and Madison will be so grateful that nothing in her life or her origins will be a touchy little secret. I just read an article about the Vietnam orphans that were lifted out of the country 30 years ago and mostly adopted by American couples, who are now trying to find out their origins … a hopeless undertaking for the most part. And these people will always wonder. Not because they weren’t happy with their parents (most say they were) but because there’s a hole in their story that they can’t fill.
My point? I love your blog, even if I’m shy and don’t comment often. I love your writing and the way you confront things head on, and how you try to ensure Madison will have a maximum, not minimum number of people who love her; how you are considerate of biological grandfather’s feelings and try to calm the fears of adopted grandma. It’s really cool.
Speaking as someone who’s never heard of open adoptions and can now educate others about the concept (mostly thanks to your blog) “I” am very glad you’re blogging. Thanks for taking us on this journey with you!