“Healing takes courage, and we all have courage,
even if we have to dig a little to find it”.
— Tori Amos

The above quote fits me really well right now. I don’t know about you, I don’t know what you’ve gone through in your life, what personal struggles you have had to overcome, but I think we can agree, that healing does indeed take courage. The courage to really look at your life, and evaluate what makes you the happiest, who makes you the happiest, and what no longer works for you right now.

The things that aren’t working could be temporary and so they may just have to be shelved for the moment. Which is ok, because I believe we all come back to these shelved items at different points in our lives.

There are however other things which in my mind I consider broken and unfixable. Or in other words, worth throwing out.  A literal cleaning out of ones “closet” if you will. My closet has consisted of relationships that no longer work and on my shelf is a Master’s degree that is going to have to wait.

That is what makes healing so scary and why you need courage to truly heal. You have to be strong enough to look at what is hurting you most, to your very core, and then look at what is surrounding you in that place. For me, the loss of Jack is my pain, it is the root of my aching heart. And everyday, I am confronted by my pain, in both expected and unexpected ways. Baby magazines come in the mail, pregnant women walk by me in stores, people say things or put me in uncomfortable situations, etc. etc.

It takes courage to unsubscribe to those magazines, to look at a pregnant woman and smile, to gently correct people and educate them about how to speak to someone who has suffered this kind of loss. Courage to get up each and every day and walk out into the world. Courage to purge your closet of what doesn’t work for you and to shelve the items your going to come back to later. To admit to yourself that you cannot do everything, and that, you need to give yourself time.

At first, after loosing Jack, I was afraid of what I would become. I thought I would be a bitter, dark person who found nothing in life joyful. But now, almost 4 months later, I think the opposite is true. I have found myself doing everything double. I enjoy the sunset for double the time, I feel the breeze with double the intensity and I cherish the sound of a baby crying a million times more than I ever did before. I do it all for Jack. I do it for him because I know he can’t. And it has taken a lot of my courage to acknowledge this new person that I am, and to be ok with myself.

This period of self renovation and healing that I am entering into is all about making my way with Jack in my heart and slowly, very slowly, mending my open wounds. It is about doing what makes me happy and what helps me to honor Jack. It is about supporting my husband while he has his time to shine in school. And it is about helping other women who have lost babies.

But most of all, it is about Courage.