The world breaks everyone and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.
This Ernest Hemingway quote brought me back to the memory of a time when the world almost broke me.
I’ve recounted the story of Dublin many times here, but before I wrote that goodbye letter to him by candlelight when the blood tests confirmed any chance he was going to come into this world was gone, I felt something inside me break.
I didn’t know if I would have the strength to write that letter.
But I am a writer.
How could I not write a letter to the courageous spirit that had brought me the euphoria of potential fatherhood for eight glorious days?
As hard as it was to finish each word, I felt that broken spot start to mend.
Then it became strong–a place of resolve and determination that filled me with a renewed courage and strength I’d never had before.
I was strong in that broken place.
I never would have played at the Bluebird Cafe if that place hadn’t been broken.
I never could have written the song I sang that day with its hopeful lyrics about a couple looking back on their lives, and recounting all their memories, laced with a reference to a baby that we still didn’t have if that place hadn’t been broken.
I wouldn’t have had the resolve to even approach the mountain of hope it took to get on that plane to New Jersey and put our lives on hold for one final effort to bring a biological child into our world if that place hadn’t been broken.
There will be days when infertility breaks you.
You’ll have to get through the pain, cry through the mending, and then learn to get used to the dull ache.
Then when you least expect it, not only will you find you don’t feel the break anymore–you’ll find you draw strength from that broken place.