D&C Surgery is scheduled for tomorrow.
(continued from The Opportunity in a Broken Heart Part 1)
I want to be someone that loves fully, hopes fully, and grieves fully. I want to be someone that invites others into that space with me.
“Why?” you might ask. Well, because I know that it’s healthy. And that it’s real.
Most of us have unprocessed pain in our life. And when we find or create a safe space to talk about it — we pry open the top on a can of worms that was festering in our souls — spoiling even the good stuff. It’s not compartmentalized into tidy little boxes for most of us, it’s all tangled up together inside of you. And one rotten can spoil everything.
I don’t want my good stuff spoiled. So into this can of worms I go.
I say yes. I say yes to this opportunity in my freshly broken heart.
I say yes to inviting you, my community, into my story.
Am I scared? Yes. I don’t like worms and I really don’t like pain.
Do I like my story? Not today.
Am I sorry for inviting you into it? No way.
Why? Because this is real life. Real life is pretty sometimes. But other times is royally sucks. But it’s part of our story — it’s all part of our “whole”.
“We are the sum total of all of our parts.
And when we choose to just share the sparkly, pretty stuff
— that’s fake and it’s bullshit and I’m not about that.”
To make matters even more pathetic this morning, my extended family was here visiting. My aunt and my precious, innocent 11 year-old cousin Cassey were with me today at the Dr’s office when we got the horrifying news that our baby had died.
When I was able to stop sobbing long enough to give Cassey a tight hug, these words spilled out of my mouth:
“I’m so sorry that you have to see this. I only want you to see beautiful things in life. But life is painful and hard sometimes. And this is one of those terrible, painful, hard things. I’m so sorry you have to see this. But this is part of real life right now…this is real.”
So, I choose to be real with you, too.
And I hope you’ll choose to be real, too.