Letting Go

9 months ago my heart was ripped out of me and broken into thousands of pieces.  After our girls died I felt as if I was carrying my heart in my hands, and everyone could see the fragments left behind.  It wasn’t protected, and occassionally people poked and prodded in ways that broke it even further.

The last 9 months have been a journey of trying to put it back together again, even though it will always look different.  In the last couple of months I have finally felt as though my heart is growing a protective layer.  I can control how people affect me again, raw emotions aren’t quite as familiar as they used to be.

And I have been proud of this … happy to again be in control.  This weekend I was given a rare and difficult choice. 

I could continue to hold my heart close, keep building that protective wall.  Or I could choose to let it go.  I could love like my heart hasn’t known deep pain, choose to believe that even a moment of that kind of love is worth months of the rawness that could follow.

I chose to let my heart go.  Welcome to this world Bug – right now you are just a second pink line, but I already love you, no matter how long you get to stay.

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