Perfectly Imperfect
On the iPod “Mercy” by: Shawn Mendes
I want to start out by saying something about the last blog post that I wrote... after my mom read it she said to me, “you know it kind of sounds like you and Mike are having issues in your own marriage.” And my response was simple, “we are, we do, that’s the point of the post... it’s to be honest about the fact that marriage is hard...that we are lucky enough to both be working on it on a regular basis.” The fact of the matter is that I could write a beautiful post about my amazing marriage and include the perfect picture of our family but really I don’t need anyone to think my marriage is perfect because it just isn’t and I’m going to guess that yours isn’t either. This blog is about stripping off the glossy Social media post of life and instead filling it with my authentic life and hopefully in turn that allows you to feel like your authentic life is good enough to talk about also. The thing is that the most beautiful parts of my life are not the perfect moments...it is the struggle that is beautiful. I’m pretty sure the world would be a little less sad if we were all celebrating the struggle instead of defining happiness or relationship success by perfection.
So moving on to my authentic life...
A couple of weeks ago I went to get a pedicure. I LOVE my manicurist but she doesn’t do pedicures so I usually just take whoever is available. So I get there, pick out my polish and order the pedicure with all of the extra stuff because well...I’m worth it 😂“Erica” leads me to the pedicure chair and we start chatting. She began asking me about summer camp for her kids. She had just moved here in the spring and her kids were bored all summer with nothing to do. We were discussing how I have three boys and she asked if I was done. I answered honestly that yes I think I am but that I’m not sure I’ll ever have that done feeling. I’ve heard it all with the 3 boys thing so I told her that I’ve been pregnant 7 times. That I had lost two babies before Levi, 1 between Levi and Luca and then I actually lost another baby just last April when I wasn’t even trying to get pregnant. Yeah yeah don’t say “Hey Amanda, you know how that whole baby thing happens right?” For the record yes I do know but when you lose a bunch of weight your cycle changes and then Surprise... you’re pregnant! The loss in April answered a lot of questions for me though and for that I’m grateful. Then I asked what I thought was just a simple question.... I asked her how many kids she has. And as if time stood still she looked up and said, “3 but my first son died 18 years ago today” She went on to tell me the story of her son’s birth and how she went in the day before his due date and how there was no heartbeat...And that as quickly as she delivered him, he was rushed away. How she never held him and how in Vietnam 18 years ago her mother in law had the hospital take care of the burial of the baby and as tears ran down both of our faces she admitted that the most difficult thing for her is that she doesn’t know where he is buried or what happened to him. I opened up to her about how my mom had a baby between my two brothers that didn’t survive. I told her that my mom never got to hold him and that my dad and the rabbi had the baby buried before my mom really even knew what happened. And that when my mom came home the nursery was taken apart as if nothing had happened to “protect” her and how years later and after a lot of therapy she had to grieve for him because she never had the chance to. We discussed how terrible loss is and how bittersweet it is that had we not gone through the losses we would have possibly never known the joy that we know now. I mean had my brother, Craig, survived my brother Andrew and I might not be here. Some people I know might refer to all of this as fate or G-d’s plan, but the G-d I pray to isn’t in the business of painful experiences. I just don’t buy the philosophy of “everything happens for a reason”. Instead I think that with strength, courage and hope we can survive loss, actually we can survive anything.
The thing is that “Erica” obviously needed to tell her truth that day. She needed someone to know that the trauma that initially began 18 years ago, thousands of miles away, is still very real today. As I got up to leave “Erica” hugged me and thanked me for sharing with her my loss and allowing her to be able to share hers with me.
Who knows... maybe if more of us told our truths... there would be less of us feeling so alone. My mom’s story is powerful, my story is powerful, Erica’s story is powerful, and your story is powerful, too. Somebody might need to hear your story today and you might need to hear theirs. Together we can be perfectly imperfect.
Love,
Me
