Today I posted my 51st blog posted on my photography site. H had taken the kids to a birthday party and I got to spend a couple of hours exploring spots to take pictures. It really wasn’t the best time of day for shots, and of course there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but it was the time I had, and I got a few things I’m pretty proud of.
Over the course of the last 51 days, I’ve learned more about what I can do with my camera than I have in the year that I’ve owned it. I’ve become pretty comfortable in Lightroom for my editing, and I’ve taken some shots that make me feel like I really am a photographer. I even did a portrait sitting, which I haven’t done in a number of years.
But tonight. Tonight I took a print from a shot I’m really proud of, matted it, signed the mat, labeled the mat with the name of the print, and framed it. And there’s something about the act of setting your work up for display, especially for display in someone else’s home, that makes it feel like you’ve done something worthy of being called art. Something that was good enough to be framed.
I’m struggling though, with finding balance. I’ve had three migraines in a week and haven’t run at all. Because I’ve felt like crap, I haven’t been eating the way I should. Hello, vicious cycle. I told my friend JG today that I need 48 hours in a day to get everything done I want to get done.
One of the things I’ve started to do, is to start reading fewer and fewer infertility related blogs and more and more photography blogs (I already have quite a few running ones I keep up with). There are a few infertility bloggers that I will continue to read for various reasons, but I’m definitely pulling back. There’s no more “that could be me” and it’s really hard to continue to read them. But I can’t focus on moving forward if all I’m doing is losing myself in other people’s baby making or TTC stories. I just can’t. And I feel like I should apologize to people for that, but I can’t.
Facebook is a constant minefield. Even my own house can be at times, like coming home on Friday to our roommate and her girlfriend talking about having maternity portraits done and asking if I had done them and what did we use them for and whether they would be doing them when they have kids. It had been a long week and nobody seemed to notice that maybe THAT wasn’t the conversation I wanted to be having.
Or the friend who was one of only a handful of people who knew about the ablation and one of 5 outside of my wife who knew the true implications of what the ablation were, that not only forgot about it, but failed to say anything other than stock platitudes on Facebook once I made her aware of it and never once connected with me personally about it.
I guess, right now, what I’m looking for is that place, that groove, that you get into when you know you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing. Where you feel like you’re doing enough to be who you need to be for you and for the people that need you. Instead I feel like I’m mopping up the remains of what used to be to make room for what is and what will be and still trying to figure out where it all goes.
For now, I’m going to go finish the laundry and climb into bed and have that be enough for tonight.