The house had a seashell room. The entire ceiling of a bedroom was decorated with a mosaic of seashells and mirrors.
Picture frames made of shells.
Lamps filled with more shells.
Glass tabletops filled with even more shells.
Then we found the moldy boxes full of seashells, at least four of them, buried in the basement.
They loved seashells.
As we cleaned out the house, we threw them all out, along with their years of painful hoarding and our years of three lost babies and a lifelong dream.
Reminders of the Past
And yet, we see seashells every day.
And, I feel my lost babies every day.
The shells continue to come up in a certain part of the yard.
And, my scarred heart and soul ache and yet, feel whole every second of every single day.
Both like a buried treasure, that isn’t worth much and yet is a constant reminder of the past.
Just like every day moments or comments in my life that are constant reminders that I will never be a mother; will never quite fit in, will always be considered not whole, will always be judged and pitied.
Because, I am not a mother with living children.
And yet, I am more whole than I have ever been through my recovery from infertility.
Just like the every day reminders that I must practice my recovery: working on self care every day, reaching out and asking for help, doing the things that help keep me healthy and practicing courage, compassion and connection. Because, I am recovering from infertility, scarcity, comparison, anxiety and depression.
And yet, I am whole in my practicing recovery from these, and from myself. Our buried treasures of our past, of our losses, traumas and tragedies, will never stay buried forever. We will always have emerging seashells in our lives.
Embracing Our Past
I guess this is where practice comes in. We must practice to use these reminders for us rather than against us. That they are not there to haunt us forever. But, rather to remind us of where we’ve been and how far we have come.
Within the buried treasure we can find our whole.
Within the buried treasure we can embrace it all.
Within the buried treasure we can be found.
Because, the buried treasure of losses, junk, gold, seashells and all, is our story.
Our story of the work of recovery.
Our story of the work and practice of our ever upward.
*To read more about my story, my recovery and Mason House make sure to pick up a copy of the soon to be published Ever Upward: Overcoming the Lifelong Losses of Infertility to Own a Childfree Life.*
If you found this post enjoyable, inspiring, helpful, hopeful, interesting or even infuriating ;), please take the time and the chance to share it through your social media! More shares means more eyes, means more people helped and the message heard on a wider scale. Thank you! Justine