I had this sweet little gigantic realization last fall that I was 100% defined by my secret. My secret of longing for a baby that my body was not helping me to obtain. “When are you guys going to have kids?!” “Oh, you know … sooner then later!” (deep sigh when no one was looking.) A wise soul, named Dr. Paul Tournier, whose work I am not familiar with once said, “Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets.” Amen. Preach it, Brother.
And, so I wrote this post. It flowed through my fingers so freely it took me by surprise. But, still I wasn’t sure if I was ready. So, after writing it I decided to let it sit. I showed it to Corey and he looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and encouraged me to publish it. I’ll think about it, I said. The following morning I received a voicemail from my sweet sister-in-law thanking me for my vulnerability. WHAT?! I dashed to my laptop, threw it open and quickly discovered that somehow we had hit ‘publish’, instead of ‘save draft’. There it was. My secret. My heart. Laying on the table. Beating on it’s own, outside of my body. What, World, will you do with it, I sheepishly wondered.
Now, I find myself thinking “of course” feeling what I’m experiencing, but before I stepped off the ledge I just didn’t know how it’d feel to be free falling. Soaring through the air naked for everyone to see. It felt incredibly uncomfortable at first. Unnatural, I’d say, but then … I relaxed and let the wind carry me and when I finally felt comfortable enough to open my eyes I saw a world of people hurting right alongside me, cheering me on, offering up prayers, simple words and thoughts of encouragement. There are days when I realize I am free falling and I – stricken with panic – search all around for my parachute or at least a giant blanket to cover my head. But, then always at just the right time, I receive another something encouraging my journey. My free fall. My heart beating on the outside of my body.
“I definitely am extremely surrounded by everyone around me being pregnant and experiencing being a mother and I am so happy for them, but the pain I experience is so hard sometimes. I have just recently started thinking about a support group, and just reading your blog and everyone’s comments makes me feel like I do have that in some ways. It is just so nice to know I am not alone…”
No, sweet, new friend, you are not alone. Not for even a moment.
There are days … like last Monday and Tuesday when I wrote in my journal just a few words. “Today I feel fat, ugly, confused, fearful and broken.” The end. That’s just how I was feeling. And, then I slipped away from the kids for just a second and a new, journey sister had emailed 5 beautiful words: I’m thinking of you today. That was it. And, yet those 5 simple words reminded me that I’m not fat or ugly. That my confusion and fear is to be expected, but not my responsibility to carry. And, no. I am not broken. Just a work in progress.
Again, another email from another new friend sharing more of her story and at the end she asks, “How are you today?” I have not had a clear enough head this week to email, but I read her words and felt her sincerity and new that there are women out there who get it. Who care. Who do not see me as an alien like I often feel. They aren’t trying to fix me. Or carry my burden. They’re just saying, “Hey. I get it. It’s hard. And, that’s okay. I’m here. I care.” It’s really quite simple, yet so wonderfully powerful.
I want every single person “ahead” of me in this journey to know that when you take the time to care about me, when you take the time to share your individual stories, when you take the time to remind me I’m not broken you fill my bucket. And, then I in turn share my fresh water with other women in a place I have now worked through. And, so we … us … have each other. It’s a beautiful thing. God is teaching me so much about the beauty of living without walls. I don’t want to live with Pride. I’ve come to appreciate and respect Sadness, but Pride … yea, he’s around too much and I want him to go away. So, I’ll continue to write. Sometimes just shared with God, sometimes just my husband, sometimes with the World. And, I thank you. For your emails. Your comments. Your kindness. Infinite kindness. I am not broken. Thank you for the daily reminders. I relish in every single one of them.
