Oversharing (it's a good thing)

Quick take a picture of it with your phone.  Pick a filter and share it on Instagram.  Pretty or quirky snapshots of our lives waiting to be liked.  Sometimes I don't know how to have something just happen without taking a picture of it.  I can't look at a sunset without thinking "holy shit that's pretty, but what would it look like with a Sierra filter, oooh or Toaster."

A lot of us are like that.  Are we all like that?  

We share our moments through filters.  Some people overshare.  Some people take selfies.  Some people take pictures of their kids, their dogs, their food, their sunsets.  

We want to capture the moment, remember it, hold onto it.  We want our moments to be seen.

There are people that say it's too much.  It's oversharing.
It's the same with updating our Facebook status or blogging.

When I shared the story of my miscarriage last week, I guess I wanted to be seen or heard.  I know I wanted it to matter.  I didn't have a plan really.  Writing has been my way of processing pain for as long as I can remember.  Most of the time I don't know what I 'm feeling until I write it all out.

The response I got from my oversharing surprised me.  It was love.  So much love.  Emails and messages from friends that had gone through their own heartbreaking miscarriages.  Emails and messages from readers I don't know personally who shared their personal stories of loneliness and grief.  Emails and messages of support and encouragement.  

Friends left treats and flowers on my front porch, they hugged me at the football game, they took me out to lunch.  

I felt the love.  My story, my miscarriage, my pain, mattered.  I mattered.  It helped.

My hormones are still a little all over the place.  I'm quieter than normal.  I cry sometimes when I remember I'm not pregnant anymore. But it's getting better, healing is happening.

I know this because Saturday night I sang Whitney Houston songs at the top of my lungs and I danced in my kitchen (much to the chagrin of Lucy).  In fact, that is my advice for anyone on the precipice of healing...sing Whitney songs, preferably any song from The Bodyguard soundtrack, as loud and proud as you can. I promise it will help.  And then, if you feel like dancing, do it.

I'm on my way back and it feels good, I know that for sure.  I also know for sure that sharing and oversharing my story has allowed people to give me the support and love I didn't know how to ask for and I am eternally grateful.  So, I will keep taking pictures, keep documenting, keep writing, keep sharing because it all matters.

Here's what else I know for sure, right now:

• Cher + the Golden Girls have magic healing power too.  Check out this totally amazing fabulous mash-up:

• One more week until the first day of school and half the kids can't wait.  I'm both happy and sad--I look forward to a routine, but I will miss them so much.

• The Whitney Singing Therapy works.  Here's the song I really got into on Saturday night. Try it.