Healing Out Loud

On 12/16/2018 at 11:27pm I delivered my daughter 5 ½ weeks early. Raegan was born weighing an even 6lbs, healthy and strong. My miracle was here taking her first breath, crying her first cry, looking me in the eyes. Life as hard as it had been the previous months was proving it could also be generous. That last part; life is generous is a statement I heard before but hadn’t come to the realization of what it could mean.

It’s still hard to process the last year of my life. This time last year began my journey of what would become by far my most difficult to overcome. If you were a Bubbling Brooke reader you know I had to overcome some heartbreak and disappointment that took me to some places. Both high and low. My last post  Finding My Heartbeat After A Breakdown was 8 months ago! It was what I thought to be my victory lap. In some ways it was. I had fought to get back to a place of peace with all I had endured. Feelings of resentment, disappointment and even some guilt had been consuming me to the point that I couldn’t even recognize myself. But what I thought was a war won was only a battle. A necessary battle, nevertheless. It would prepare me for what I would face next.

There are some dreams and fears you truly can’t fathom until they become reality. There are some joys and pains that must be experienced before they can be understood.

Not long after my victory I found out I was expecting my first child and that my father was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Life was once again proving to be hard and generous at the same time. The next few months would require of me something I didn’t know I had. I would have my greatest joy and deepest fear run parallel through my heart and I would have to survive what I couldn’t fully understand. There is no comfort when you are living in constant fear of losing someone you never thought you would so soon. There is nothing joyous about a reality when it involves a nightmare. Yet, I had moments where I could embrace my pregnancy but the cloud hovering over my head was constant. Even with the idea of me becoming a mother now being a reality I struggled with it. Even though it was my dream. Along with the normal anxieties every expecting mother may experience to some degree, I was losing my parent. Overwhelmed is an understatement.  I was watching him daily battle something that was getting progressively worse. While my baby was developing my heart was breaking. Feelings of guilt buried me often because her miracle wasn’t enough to silence my fears. I know now that it was her life that ultimately gave me the strength to get up each day and face that fear. It was her that enabled me to cherish what would only be two short months that we had with our dad. My sister and I both endured and overcame what should have killed us. And if we can do that, we can survive anything.

What I learned about healing this past year is that it is not done in secret. It is not subtle no matter how hard you try. It will show. Sometimes it is ugly and hard full of tears and breakdowns. Other times it looks like a good selfcare Sunday consisting of a bubble bath and a good book to read. Either way it should be embraced.  From the moment I acknowledged the heartbreak I experienced to facing the fear of losing my parent and the anxiety associated with expecting my first child, I chose to heal out loud. It did not always feel as though I was healing, it often felt like more pain was being endured. My personal life suffered, blogging no longer was something I could focus on. I couldn’t be transparent about something so difficult. I could not share something so private at the time.  There were days I could barely function at work and days I was like a robot without feelings when it came to my relationships. The phases I went through all were crucial to me being able to share these words.

There was nothing subtle about this journey. Family and friends, co-workers and even strangers all experienced it with me. I couldn’t silence it even if I wanted to. I wouldn’t have made it through if I had tried. The support I received was just as important to me as the courage it took to keep living when there was a part of me dying. As difficult as healing may be there is always something to look to. Hope. Hope is a sure thing and for me that was my faith knowing that God is able to heal and Raegan. I had to be reassured that apart from mercy there is no grace.

February 16 my daughter will be 2 months old. On the same date last year, I journaled these words

I caught a certain wave
I rode it with confidence
It has buried me
I have fought my way to the top gasping for air
I have roared with victory
I have been silenced by overwhelming sorrow
Still I do not know which was more felt
Could it be that I have been engulfed in my intent to endure?
Now all my emotions are rolled up into one
Moment by moment and no one is more apparent than the next
I have confessed from my soul
I have prayed in the spirit
I have asked for forgiveness out of my brokenness
I have given praise from the tops of my lungs
Hallelujah and Lord have mercy have both been my song

Since then my sister and I have buried our father and we’ve both given birth to real-life miracles.

I’ve been healing out loud through this platform, my journal and every tear I have cried both in secret and on the willing shoulders of others.

As I continue to do so I am most grateful for the realization of knowing that even when life is hard it is also generous.

I’ve missed this. It feels good to be back!!

Xoxo
B