A soft cloudy fuzz swirls around in my brain. Even after four days, my eyes are still tired while the blisters on my feet remind me of the miles I walked this weekend at Blissdom. I am still charged with the excitement of the weekend and the amazing love and energy that this conference represents.
I walked away from the introverted me that didn’t really believe I would fit in. I waved goodbye to the girl who clung to the belief that she was not good enough. I locked away the woman who listened to the lies of insecurity. I liberated a bit of my old self . . . the one I was before death changed me. It was good to see her again.
I walked towards new friends. I walked toward knowledge. I walked towards connections, community and encouragement. I walked into each new encounter with complete abandon and shared my art finding affirmation each time I spoke my story. And each time I did ~ I broke a little inside.
I know the numbers and the numbers don’t lie. I am all too familiar with winning the lottery of infant loss. I am a statistic. So, it should not have surprised me when I met mother after mother who shared their losses with me. But it did.
I wasn’t prepared for their stories. I wasn’t prepared for how quickly someone’s eyes would shimmer with tears. I wasn’t prepared to meet mama after mama who was grieving the death of her baby. It simply humbled me on the spot.
I listened, I cried along, I gave lots of hugs and cards out, hoping somehow that the pretty image on the front would bring a small amount of comfort. A tangible reminder that she was not alone.
It broke me even as I was filled with a high that only Blissdom could have gifted me with.
Blissdom really did work some kind of magic on me. I dream of being a part of it all next year.
God put me in front of so many amazing and beautiful women that I would have never met otherwise. I still can’t believe that there are so few degrees of separation between people I know in real life and those whom I met at Blissdom.
I am blissfully broken.