Let The Love + Light In

I love Facebook memories.  One came up today, and it was from 6 years ago... it's just me sharing a simple quote:

"Things don't go wrong and break your heart so you can become bitter and give up. They happen to break you down and build you up so you can be all that you were intended to be" ~ Samuel Johnson

I distinctly remember posting that quote, very sadly.  I had just miscarried, it was my fourth pregnancy.  It wasn't my style really, at that time, to share any of the 'thoughts around the thought'.  It was my way of reaching out and making an connection when things weren't going so well.

It felt wrong to share the gory details, I remember feeling that.

After all, I was "only" 3 months gone, and I'd already been fortunate enough to have 3 healthy babies, so I really didn't allow myself to grieve publicly in case people thought I was being dramatic, or ungrateful in some way.

(Isn't it interesting the way we censor ourselves in a way that we would never dream of doing to someone else?  In fact, we'd be outraged on someone else's behalf if it happened to them!)

That pregnancy had felt special right from the very beginning.  And it's quite a funny/weird story if you'll allow me to tell it.

We were at the John Maxwell Team event, the very first one in August 2011. One of the perks of joining as a founding member was you got to go to John C. Maxwell's home!  His beautiful wife Margaret hosted the gathering (and I've said before, she was a saint to have about 1000 people trek through her sacred space...).  I really felt a bit cheeky going, as I was just 'Roddy's wife' or 'the speaker trainer's wife' (lol) and didn't feel I deserved the honor to be there.  So when we arrived, I offered to man the line of people waiting to go into the reception and meet John in person, I was happy to skulk in the background and people watch.

There was a group, all muddled up, so as I straightened them all out, one man... a tall mediterranean looking man looked me up and down and asked me... if I was pregnant.

In my head: Well... Well!  No I am not bloody pregnant now you ask!!!

In real life: (ever so politely said with a forced smile) "no I'm not"

I tried to hide my irritation, along with my embarrassment, as I sucked my stomach in and some of the surrounding guys and gals jeered at the obvious awkwardness of his statement.

I was so mortified.

He lightly grabbed my arm, and explained he was a chiropractor who specialized in treating women trying to get pregnant.  He said that the dilation of my pupils and some 'curve' in my cheek made him suspect I was pregnant... and he apologized.

I scurried off and ruefully told Dani and babe, and they quickly assured me 'no... of course you don't look pregnant!' (back then, after 3 kids I was real sensitive about comments like this 😂 after 4, I am even worse)

The day after, the final day of the event, I was chatting to some of the program coordinators and suddenly one of the women ask me... yup you guessed it...

Are you pregnant?

My eyes immediately filled with tears, feeling the curse of my untoned mom bod.

I don't know what possessed me, but I decided to share the story of the previous night (I hardly knew them!)... and the conversation quickly went from upset to excitement.  One of the ladies was convinced the chiropractor was right, and we were all hugging and crying and they were praying over my belly 'just in case'.  It was a real genuine sisterhood moment.

I'd like to say I thought nothing more of it.  But I got a little obsessed by the idea... I was like... no way! I can't be (quickly figuring out dates I would have literally 'just' got pregnant)... or can I?

S and K took us out for cocktails after the event in Jupiter, and as I now happily regaled the story to them, K convinced me to get a pregnancy test, she was so excited too. I did it in the restroom of the bar and oh no....it was negative!

We got back to England, and life went on.  I stopped thinking about my 'maybe baby'. A couple of weeks go by... I miss my period, I take another test, and it's positive.

Everything about the pregnancy felt right: the timing, the strange circumstances, the moment with those wonderful women, the collective excitement.

When I miscarried this time 6 years ago, I felt all of that disappear and it didn't feel good at all. I was not in a good place.

It was a lonely moment.

I hadn't shared I was pregnant publicly, and just felt I couldn't share the miscarriage either.

Now it's ok... if I hadn't lost that sweet baby, I would never had had my beautiful blue eyed boy. Life has a way of working things out somehow even if it makes no sense at the time.

And I'm glad times have changed for me too: that I feel it's safe to be open and vulnerable and to share some of the more challenging parts of my life now.  I genuinely feel so very blessed to have been able to experience these difficulties and also so very blessed to feel safe enough to share them, and reflect on what it all means, alongside people I love and respect.

It's like letting the love and light in on the darkest parts your life.

It's different if you don't want to share, if that's not your 'thing'... but if it is, if you deny it, and duct tape yourself out of fear or embarrassment or to hold up an image of yourself you so desperately want others to see... that's not just sad, it can be dangerous.

It really does cost a lot to censor yourself. More than you know.

Let the love and light in.  It's glorious.