A decade in the making...

This year marks the 10 year anniversary of the blog. I started it with three intentions in mind... First, I wanted Grace to have a memory book that could grow as quickly as she did. [10 years later, add Emma, Norah and Will to that as well.] Secondly, it was a convenient way to keep family and friends updated in the mundane happenings of our lives. And third, God forbid...if something were to happen and we lost all of our worldly possessions, we would still have a healthy helping of photos and memories preserved.

Now, I look at the blog and feel comforted knowing if something ever happened to me, the girls have a decade of my words and photos at their fingertips. My personal journal would be theirs forever. I love to think that someday if they are lucky enough to have children of their own, I can gift them with my password and they can delve into the backside of the blog, into the world of the unpublished posts that journey through the highest of my highs and the lowest of my lows. As I fail time and time again, I pour out my inner sailor on the blog where my sentiments are often lost into a sea of swear words that aren't for the faint of heart. Admittedly, some days my love of the word, "shitty" is overused almost as much as my love for ellipses... Thankfully, I have kept this side of me hidden from my children for the past 10 years. I'm sure they'll learn soon enough my affinity for swearing.

This past year has transformed my blogging from memory making into more of a therapy session. I write almost daily, though post far less frequently. Many have commented that I should publish more posts, but if I'm honest, I'm still a little scared. After sharing our blog on FB, some of our posts were read nearly 6,000 times. As humbled as we were at the possibility that so many people were praying for Will, or that he had touched that many lives in his short time here, I was equally scared at the fact that we carelessly invited that many people into our private lives. So, now as we get back under the one hundred reader mark, I am hoping I can publish more and worry less.

I don't blog for readers. I blog for myself. Alongside chocolate, it's my guilty pleasure. When people thank me for sharing Will's story, I don't know how to respond. It was never our intention to seem brave, nor inspirational, nor considerate in sharing...it was merely memory preservation that molded itself into a modern-day miracle. Will did all of the work, and in my selfishness to hold on to him, I documented his progress. If he touched someone's life, I am grateful when they share it with me. However, as the dust settles, settling with it are the number of people who read the blog. These are my people. These are the people who love Will, love us and, if unknown to us before, have reached out to create a new relationship as we walk similar paths. They understand our joy and our pain. I am hopeful now that we're back to the safety of our 'village' I can continue to share the journey of our family, without the worry that I am jeopardizing their privacy.