August 3, 2010
Last year around this time, I bought a ticket to BlogHer. I had never gone before- never had the guts, or the timing wasn’t right, or it was too expensive. The fact that I’ve never been to The Big Blogging Conference is kind of crazy considering I’ve been blogging since the beginning of time. But! This time, I was GOING, DANGIT. New York City! I’ve never been to New York City! (except for a brief layover in JFK Airport on the way to Italy in 2006, which totally doesn’t count.)
Then I got pregnant. In January. Doing the math then, I thought hm… I’ll be 8 months pregnant. My first pregnancy was totally normal and low-risk, so as long as this one stayed that way, I’m SURE my doctor would clear me to go.
I was GOING, DANGIT.
I was going to meet so many people. Her and her and her, and hopefully her and her and her! And I’d see her again! And… well I’ll just stop there because seriously, my list of Want To Meets is very, very long.
I was going to have a blast. I was GOING, DANGIT.
But then, being a grown-up took over and I realized a few months ago that I needed to be realistic. I mean- EIGHT MONTHS PREGNANT. Traveling. Alone. To a strange city. Lots of walking. Luggage. Taxis. Subways. At 5 months, I was already getting achy and sore in the hips and back, and now… well, I can barely carry groceries into the house by myself right now. Without taking several breaks and then maybe a nap afterward.
So I sold my ticket.
I’m bummed I won’t be there this weekend. But I know that it was a smart decision. I wouldn’t enjoy myself. I would want to stay out late and party with my bloggy friends and see some sights in the city. Maybe even learn a thing or two about this blogging stuff. But in reality, I would probably pass out on a bench somewhere and somebody (probably MULTIPLE somebodies, because dude, this belly is insane) would need to carry me back to my room (*cough*at 9pm*cough*) Or I would end up sick. Or worse: IN LABOR. And spending all that money on a fabulous trip only to feel like I couldn’t fully take advantage of it… just no fun.
So instead, I wish all of my friends who ARE making the trip an absolutely fabulous, wonderful time. I’ll be watching on Twitter, maybe a little bit jealous of all the fun you’re having, but happy for you all who get to take part in the fun.
But you know: next year!
I AM GOING, DANGIT.
(If I can convince Dan to stay home with a 4-year-old and an almost 1-year-old, ZOMG.)