Beautifully Broken
I will never forget the day we were told that we were going to need more help creating a family. The day they gave me a physical list of things that were wrong with me, along with a list of treatments that possibly, maybe, might temporarily fix me. That day, the day I was told that my body wasn't in working order, it was hard to not feel broken. Broken as a person, as a woman. Plainly put to have everything theoretically needed to create life, but it is all failing to work properly. I am a woman but unable to do what women are made to do. It's hard to not wake up every day and look at myself in the mirror with disgust. Disgust at how my body betrayed me. But maybe being broken wasn't just a bad thing. Maybe I needed to look at the word broken from a new perspective. The lens of what happens after things are broke. Pieces that were once one thing, have fallen apart and now have the potential to become something new. Maybe I wasn't quite assembled correctly yet. Maybe I...