I'm Mandy, I've had six children, but only enjoy two on earth because my two precious sons died the days they were born almost eight years apart due to Potter's Syndrome bilateral renal agenesis. This blog is my story and in telling that story for the past two years I realize that I have a recurring theme - healing. That's because in the almost ten years - yes, ten years (which caused me to tear up when that hit home today) - since I lost my firstborn, Wyatt, I have been in the process of healing.
I'm preparing to go under the knife (dental bone grafting to help fix a lovely congenital defect on my side of the family - ugh!) today and find myself thinking a lot about healing. My gums will close up around the graft and with the most minimal help from me and my hygiene, they will heal and hopefully grow lots of bone thereafter. Most wounds will do that. They just heal so long as we keep them clean and undisturbed. Which makes me wonder if the human brain has a similar capacity. How does our mind heal from such a damaging wound as a child's death? Would my brain heal these wounds much easier if I would just stop sticking my finger into them? But how can I not? How can I not remember the days of my sons' births? How does a time of year, outfit, flower or even a scent not remind me of moments when I carried them in my belly? I don't know but it interests me. The human body has a remarkable capacity for healing so it's logical to believe that the human mind does as well.
I'm a healing in progress. Imperfect. Broken. But healing.