Note: I wrote this entire post a few days ago and thought it was published. It was neither published nor saved under drafts so I am a bit frustrated. Will try to recreate all my thoughts.
A few days ago, someone had a conversation that sparked a memory of a few months ago when I was talking to my husband. He asked me if I would really call my Twitter buds my friends? (we are both introverts, we dont let people into our lives easily, we dont make friends easily).
I was surprised at this thought and said, “Well yeah, if they arent my friends then I dont know who I would call friends.”
A few days ago, I also sat in the RE’s office waiting anxiously and being a little envious of those people whose partners make it to even blood tests. We had crazy schedules, and he couldnt make it to a lot of appointments last time around and this time he is watching A. I told him its okay, but I wondered at the time, did I really get through this all alone?
No I didnt, you know why? Because my friends (yep those ones from twitter) are always a text or a tweet away in my pocket.
This community embraced me after my third miscarriage, they picked me up when I was at my lowest. They endured my crazy rants and hormonal ups and downs when I was on clomid. They helped answer my questions when I was confused about test results. They reminded me that it only takes one when I was upset about the follicles not maturing on my last clomid cycle (sounds like a cliche but it did only take one, that was the cycle that gave me A).
It didnt stop there, they were there when I bled at 13w pregnant. Guess who played Cards with humanity on my phone to distract me from a terrible appointment making me nauseous? Yep you guessed it, it was them. They held my hand through pregnancy, and they stayed for the terrible anxiety and sleep deprived haze that followed. They were there when I struggled with A’s colitis, development delays, mischief that led to a bloody nose.
They are still there at the end of every day when I am tired and want to scream at the world.
They are still there every morning when I wake up and look for the courage to declare battle (Lets face it, each day is a battle. You battle yourself, your child and the world all while trying to keep a spotless home and the delicious smell of dinner wafting frm the kitchen – Yeah most of that never happens).
They have known me at my worst in recent years, and they are still there.
They have brought out the best in me, and they are still there.
They encourage me to grow, they hold my hand (or text and tweet) as I step outside of my comfort zone.
They remind me of the parent I want to be, and they remind me it is okay when I fail to be that parent.
They are Team Whatever Works.
How could they be anything less than a friend for me?
I havent met most of them but I know for me they are my tribe. The good thing about having a tribe is that when the days are long and weary, there is always someone who can send a hug your way or listen to your diatribe. You try to return the favor when you can but they understand on days when you cant, and even join you in your blanket fort.
This isnt quite what I wrote the first time around, but the sentiment still stands. I am grateful for them and I am so glad that I found them.