The four year anniversary of Thinking Out Loud (a.k.a. "Drew-n-Em") is fast approaching. It's a little hard to believe we've had this blog for that long. It has been such a great way to keep in touch with our close family and friends, almost all of whom live not too near here.

It is bad timing that I have been seriously considering an end to my blogging life lately. My parents leave for a semester in Denmark next week, and checking one another's blogs has been one of the main communication channels for us. For that reason alone, I may keep with this a little longer, then see if I feel re-energized enough to keep it going.

I cannot pinpoint a single reason why I've been considering putting Thinking Out Loud to rest. Part of it is that I've become tired of my own content, my own situation. This blog has covered a lot of different "material" from our lives these past few years--from dating, to buying our first house together, to our engagement, wedding, and TTC struggle, not to mention all the rants and raves surrounding these subjects as well as work, house projects, the Girls, toys, vacations...you get the picture.

But, of course, the majority of the content over the last 2.5 years has been related to our infertility issues. This subject has overshadowed all others for quite some time.

Now, I am starting to feel censored. More accurately: I'm feeling the need to censor myself. My readership has grown, and all of a sudden, I have stage fright. For so long, I've put it all out there--good and bad--and found some comfort in knowing that these feelings would be read by others, even if they couldn't understand or empathize. Sometimes just knowing someone has gotten a glimpse into your pain provides comfort.

Lately, I don't know...sharing that subject here hasn't provided me the same comfort. It is "more of the same." If I'm sick of thinking about it myself, sheesh, how must you guys feel? I don't want to put you through it anymore.

So then, the logical next step would be to decide what I WILL talk about in this space. If not the details of our "trying to conceive" journey, then what? There's got to be more going on in our lives than that, right? Yes, of course. There is. Isn't there? Hmmm...

It's a silly question, of course. We don't live, eat, and breathe our infertility. But, without planning for it to happen, this space has become my "dumping ground" on the topic. To me, my infertility is more like my surgery scars--an ugly part of me that is always there, even if I'm not looking--and it'll never completely go away. No matter what God has in store for us, it will be impossible to forget the pain that is now so deeply rooted in each one of us. We are forever changed by what we've been through--our past losses, our continued losses each month.

We do have hope that this pain will not always be so at the forefront of our minds...so raw and open and subject to public visibility. In the past, making the pain visible to all of you has been cathartic, but it isn't any longer.

I said it before: I'm sick of our story. I'm sick of clicking over to others' "happy" pages, then back to ours for the "depressing" stuff. I don't want to be everyone else's pity party. Don't misunderstand me--I am the one who put myself in that position, so I only have myself to blame.

I guess it all comes down to this...what do I do now? Now that I no longer wish to reveal all the gory details? It is a lonely place to be. But I think I'd rather keep that to myself.

-Em