(BlogHer: it's all over but the Flickring.)
I met so many amazing women this weekend. I met my idols, my readers, some friends and some strangers. I was hugged and petted and praised and intimidated and ignored and glared at. I talked too loud and too long and couldn't sleep at night. I stumbled out of bed, towards an imaginary crying baby, and walked right into the wall. I missed Noah so much I cried. I cursed at the crappy Internet access and got locked out of my room and read a post about how stupid we mommybloggers acted all the time. I had an absolutely fantastic, mind-blowingly amazing time.
Mostly because I realized that I'm not being lame when I call other bloggers -- bloggers I've never met in real life -- my "friends." They are my friends. They are even more than that.
I've "known" Zoot for ages. We bonded one day after Zoot had yet another miscarriage and I was timidly trying to map out the next step in my own battle with infertility. We emailed a lot and made each other laugh. I didn't know that I was actually a few precious days pregnant with Noah. She didn't know she'd conceive Nikki in just a few weeks.
We emailed every day of our pregnancies. We told each other the stuff we wouldn't tell anyone else. She made me a beautiful pregnancy scrapbook using all my blog entries and photos that remains one of my most prized posessions. Noah and Nikki were born almost exactly a month apart, both via emergency c-sections.
I know her real name, yet she's programmed into my cell phone as "Zoot." I live in Washington, DC; she's in Alabama. She works full-time; I stay home. I gave up on breastfeeding; she's still going strong. She co-sleeps; my life revolves around getting Noah to stay in his crib. I like Sephora; she likes Target.
When I met her in person for the very first time on Friday morning, I nearly almost cried. When I saw that she wrote that hugging me was like hugging a sister she hadn't seen in years, I DID cry.
I've read a lot of blog entries about BlogHer, including ones that question why in the world anyone would want to attend a conference on blogging. They assume we're going to network or to get our egos stroked. They think we think we're important and famous and want to sit around and talk about how great we are all weekend.
So I'm telling this story to tell you why I went. I went to meet my best friends. I went to meet my sisters.