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Archive for August 4th, 2008

Compromised

One of the reasons that I moved this blog to TypePad  was because some "real life" friends, who I had not explicitly given the URL to my blog (so I’m not referring to you, Julie or Diana, or any of you others that know that I explicitly gave you this URL), had found my  blog over at My Perky Ovaries.  Too many had found it, really.  I had other things push me over the edge, but when I stopped feeling comfortable posting about my feelings about infertility, and knowing that I was getting closer to moving back to Ye Old Fertility Clinic, I knew it was time to pick up and move.

Some of my real life friends knew I was moving in part because I had been "found" and they felt badly about having found me, even though it was obviously through no fault of their own.  I have a public blog, for a reason, and therefore, I can’t expect everyone to stay out, now can I?  Even if I didn’t use my name, my likeness, or my childrens’ names, the fact that I’m an Orthodox Jew with triplets, an older child with a slightly-less-than-normal-legal-situation, etc. makes me pretty distinguishable to the people that know me in real life.  So removing my names and pictures from my blog wouldn’t really help me, and I’m not interested in creating a whole new internet personality for the sake of anonymity, because I try to be ME as much as possible.

When one of my friends found my old blog, I told her specifically that the fact that she and others had found it was precisely the reason I was moving my blog.  She asked with interest what the new name for my new blog would be and I very specifically did not tell her the new name of the blog.  I clearly said that the things that I want the whole world to know, I post elsewhere, in a blog that she already reads. 

I know that people I know in real life will find this blog. I’m not naive.  I also know that the vast majority of them read this blog in silence, and I thank them for pretending to respect my privacy, though I recognize that the only way I will have true privacy is to password protect my blog, which I have my own reasons for not doing.  They’re good reasons, which I don’t need to share at this time, but believe me, they’re good and valid. 

But this friend, who I specifically told I was moving the blog so that real life people would not be reading my thoughts on infertility and the like… this friend apparently went looking for my blog again.  And not only did she go looking for my blog, and not only did she find my blog and read my thoughts, she left footprints.  She commented in my blog.  Twice.

I recognize that I have no right to ask for privacy from the general public.  But when I ask a friend explicitly to respect a boundary, I think that’s another thing all together. Find my blog?  Sure.  Read my blog?  By all means, be a voyeur.  But rub it in my face when I made it clear I didn’t want you here?  That’s just tacky.

And now I feel compromised, even though I realize I have no right to expect privacy in the public world of blogging. 

I will continue blogging, but I do know this:  when I return to Ye Old Fertility Clinic in the fall, I won’t be blogging about it.  Or if I do, I won’t be blogging about the specifics of dates of retrieval, transfer, test results, things like that.  No one will know, from my blog anyway, what exactly is going on.  Because I don’t even have the facade anymore of pretending that my friends won’t know the inner details of my pregnancy test results.

In my community, we don’t tell people we’re expecting until we are beyond the first three months or so, though I’ve been known to let a few people in on the joke.  The first time I was pregnant, I told people in my community that I was pregnant when I got to three months, and a day later, I had a miscarriage.  I’ve sworn I’ll never do that again.   It’s one thing if people are reading and I don’t have it shoved in my face that they’re reading.  It’s quite another if they are reminding me of it.

I never thought I would censor myself on my blog, and I’m sorry to do it.  The reason I moved was so that I would stop censoring myself.  Maybe I’ll get over myself and just write about it anyway, but right now?  Right now I just feel… compromised. 

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