It is never lack of time. I make time to teach Emma her reading, and to run. I make time for the important things in life, and for the things I love to do. What I think happened is that, gradually, the focus of the blog changed from conception and babies to life after infertility, which perhaps is not as interesting, given that we all have a life to live and there is not much extraordinary going on in mine as compared to the neighbour's. I sometimes feel like the focus of the blog has changed so much, that I almost need to start another blog. I am confused about what I am doing here, so I keep waiting for clarity. It is starting to come in bits and pieces.
I know now that I don't feel like starting another blog. This blog is a diary of sorts, a place for me to vent ideas and feelings, so there is no need to separate it into several diaries, since it is all part of one unified life.
Yes, in the end, the truth is that I am not really a blogger. I am a diary writer. Someone once commented that my writing is self absorbed, and indeed, it is supposed to be. Diaries are unidimensional lenses that scrutinize life from a single perspective: that of the writer. Recognizing this limitation, I should not have felt offended, but I did. It inhibited me from writing. Being told that I should be more thankful for my life implied that the thankfulness is not coming out in my writing. It might not be. A diary is not always a reflection of my entire being, of all my feelings. It is simply a snapshot of what ails me the most that day, or of what caught my mind's eye at that moment.
Anyway, this writing is precious to me, and so I would like to continue. I need to give it a regular time in my life, and that time is likely to be on the weekends. One day, I am hoping that my kids will read it, and learn to know their mother and their beginnings from a different perspective. That might be valuable to them. I certainly like to see how my life evolves and changes, and reading back posts gives me that perspective. And there is always the chance that someone is battling with similar situations in life as I have in the past (or present) and that my writing is giving them companionship, which is probably the biggest bonus of them all.
So many reasons to write, so little time...