It’s been MIN-UTE! Well, maybe like a year and well it’s been a pretty interesting year.
As are the years, of all regular oxygen breathing people besides me. But my blog, so yeah. The main reason I really left this Popsicle stand was that I felt everything I said was pointless, inconsequential and really didn’t matter to you…or anyone else. I took a lot of time thinking about if writing was to even be a part of my life and had essentially quit doing it altogether.
At the time, I’d been going through a difficult period in work and home life. Then I applied to a gaming website, as a contributor. Which was swiftly rejected, I distinctly remember the editor saying “my writing was unprofessional and not what they were looking for”, despite the posting for “amateur” work. The more I wrote, the emptier I felt with each posting. Other blogs or sites were thriving and well…I was nothing but a grain of sand in the Sahara.
Once my writing no longer gave me joy. I left here.
I had life push me along like dust from a sandstorm. I moved through my days doing the regular grind, mindlessly working, being the best dad and husband I could be. Hell, I even went to Disney World for the first time!
Then the epiphany with a beating heart happened. I found out I was having a son. Forget the “mind blown” thought. It was no longer going to be Three’s Company; my boy (his name is Max, BTW) was now going to be Mr Furley walking in during an awkward moment of eye-brow raising innuendos. The first thing wasn’t “wow, that’s great!” It was “OH SHIT!”
Honestly, we NEVER saw this coming. BOTH Kat (my wife, if I’d never mentioned her name directly on here.) and I had not seen this coming. Not because, that’s just what careless, albeit perfectly normal sex bring in, as a result. But that we’d been trying for FOUR YEARS and almost TWO years after having a miscarriage.
Before, we’d had him, (FYI he’s a super cute, yet dribbling 3 month old) our chances of having him were pretty slim. Me and Kat were seeing a fertility specialist, as we’d both been having issues conceiving. Put simply, my flamethrower couldn’t light her newspaper-filled dumpster.
Around the third year, which was about the time I decided to hang my hat with you guys. I became frustrated with my weight, eating habits and activity levels. I stopped drinking sodas, laid off the sugar, took supplement stacks, chugged a gallon of water a day and kept to it for 4 months straight. Also, I was on Clomid, AKA baby glue, so maybe that helped the football team make to the end-zone.
Once it happened, our total mood took a turn for the better. Kat and my depressive state flipped faster than a Mickey Ds burger. (Provided they are even flipped in the first place.)
She went from being in constant state of lull into a kid waiting for Christmas toys. Losing a baby before birth, is very different from losing a person already here on this Earth. Men can only sympathize, but never empathize with that sort of lost. My advice to all those fellas out there that ever find themselves in this sort situation: Comfort her, never counsel or coach. Let time do the work and allow her to find peace in herself.
Thankfully, things have been much better for me. I’ve reinvigorated my desire to write and share my thoughts with everyone!
Thank you for sticking around guys!
Photo creds: Cheezburger.com