100- (For JJ).

It occurred to me in looking over my blogging records, that this is my 100th post. It arrives almost six months to the day since I began, back in May.

Not to be overly navel-gazing, but it seems appropriate to take a moment to say a heartfelt thank you to the person directly responsible for setting me off on my blogging adventures.

I met JJ on a message board, one which had the rare distinction of being frequented by a group of particularly smart, sassy women. It was the first board I found where I could be a smart ass about the whole "TTC thing", and nobody seemed to mind. In fact, people like JJ actively encouraged it! Hurrah, I thought, I am not alone out here in a vortex of babydust.

JJ's posts kept mentioning this thing called a "blog". Having been practically surgically attached to the internet for the last three or four years, I had heard of blogging, of course. But I didn't know anyone who had ever kept one, or how it worked. The idea of having my own little corner of cyberspace had never really crossed my mind.

Through JJ, I read a few other of these newfangled blog thingies, specifically Julie and Karen. I thought to myself "Wow", the way you do when you catch a glimpse of something which seems astonishingly accomplished, polished, and seemingly unobtainable. Kind of like the way I feel when I leaf through Vogue- sure, I know I could go out and buy a Prada handbag, but I will never ever have the money or the long legs required to pull off those outfits, that look.

So I admired from afar. Occasionally a little voice in my head wondered how you went about setting up one those blogadoodle sites, and then I shook it off thinking I couldn't possibly ever do that. I don't know how to set up websites and templates and codes, and my goodness, it must be sooo complicated, where would one find the time?

Then JJ started talking about opening a blog site for women of our message board. The idea being that we could do with a wider forum to expand on our brief posts. Giving us the freedom to ramble on at will, without worrying that we were monopolizing space on the board or droning on about ourselves too much.

She dangled the idea in front of us like a shiny lure. It floated in the waters of the message board for a few days. And then suddenly, surprising myself, I turned into a large spangled silver fish, and bit. Bit hard. I decided, like the greedy trout I am, that I would not only take up the offer of a group blog, but I would, gasp!, start my own as well.

It took me, oh, about half an hour to discover the existence of Blogger, and another thirty seconds to discover that it was free. That magic word- free. I could try it, and if I didn't like it, well, no harm done, no money wasted. An experiment. Nothing to lose, but some spare time. Time I was otherwise spending staring into space, brooding about babies, or Googling endlessly for answers that would not come.

I think the act of blogging, together with all my encounters with this particular community of women- infertile, adopting, coping with pregnancy and life with babies after infertility- has saved me in many ways. It has given me an outlet for some of the raw and murky stuff I carry inside my head every day. It has been the most wonderful source of information and education. It has astounded me with the kindness of strangers. It has provided the most amazing sense of perspective. It has shown me that it is possible to walk a sad and uncertain road with dignity, grace and compassion. Above all, it has made me laugh, which on the darkest days is the most wonderful respite.

I don't know if I would have ever started a blog without JJ. I might have, eventually, but I think I would have first spent a very long time in the shadows, lurking. Admiring so many of you without ever joining in, and without ever really getting to know you. It was JJ who opened that door for me, and having done so, grabbed me by the hand and pulled me in.

So, thank you again to our dear, charming, funny JJ. Stand up and take a bow. Actually, no, wait, don't. Your knee is oogy and your leg is broken. Take a metaphorical bow.

And remember, I wish you all good things in this world- dollhouses, decent doctors, a bestselling novel, geneology of princesses and kings, the muzzling of Frosty and the defenestration of the Trainee. Ovulation. The love of Hubby. And however you get there, the joy of motherhood.