“So what’s going on?”
You innocently ask with an effortless smile.
Pregnancies, and miscarriages, and periods, and two-week-wait-periods.
This is what I really want to tell you about.
This world that I didn’t know existed. A world of secret hoping, secret wishing, secret tracking, and most tragically, secret grieving.
I want to tell you about this journey that has ripped my heart open and mercilessly crushed me, from the inside out. Repeatedly. The heart and soul of me; that’s what’s nearly been irrevocably destroyed here.
I want to tell you of the hope that I have, when I let my guard down enough to feel it. To deeply feel it. And how intoxicating that is. The dreams of growing bumps, and tiny jumpsuits. The wishes of little fingers and little toes! The prayers of hugs and kisses, and holding on so tight. Oh sweet hope! Patiently waiting; ready to be completely absorbing.
I want to tell you how scared I am of the fall. The period-just-arrived fall. The not-again fall. The lets-squash-those-dreams-a-bit-deeper fall.
I want to tell you of this bravery I have found, among my fellow survivers, on this silent journey. And the love and strength they have so generously offered to me, and oh how desperately I’ve needed it.
I want to tell you how this experience has, and is challenging everything I thought I believed about humanity, life choices, free will, and hope. Like, big challenges. Core belief challenging.
I want to tell you how I’m still conflicted when I ask myself, if I could do this all again, without any of this, and fall (and keep Baby) first time, would I? Because I’m not sure. Despite the soul destroying pain, the depths of despair, and the suffocation of profound emotions… I’m not sure.
Because, I want to tell you, I have seen this fierceness within me. One that both rivals and channels all the great warriors that have ever lived. And that has been the most unspeakably profound experience. To be in awe of self.
I want to give you this glimpse of my soul; for you to truly hear my story. My experience. My ‘me’ that I am right now. Wholely and completely.
But your phone has just buzzed, the server bell has rung, the line we’re standing in is moving ahead now, and you’ve just remembered that your husband is due back early.
So, right now, just for today, I keep this part of me hidden away.
“omg, how are YOU?!”