You guys.

You guys!

Listen to this. Really, please listen to this.

After I posted my “Sam and I want squishy babies but having them has been more challenging than I expected” musing on Wednesday, one of my friends reached out and said the following: 

“If you need to borrow my womb in order to have those little squish balls, I’m happy to volunteer.”

A friend literally said, “Hey, I know you have a lot of options, so no pressure. But if the issue is needing a womb to grow the baby, mine’s available. My body seems to be good at growing babies and I would totally do that for you guys.”

And she was serious!

AND she was only one of a dozen or so people to reach out.

Guys.

Guyyyyyyyys.

I’m too flabbergasted at the moment to do this message justice, but there’s a point that I really want to drive home.

Being a human amongst other humans is a magical experience. An enchanting experience.

Think about how my heart felt when she reached out to say that. When I kept getting message of support after message of support from my tribe. It basically exploded in my chest. That’s magic, friends. Magic.

And…

In order for that magic to happen, in order for my friends to be able to offer me the kind of love and support that makes me feel like the luckiest woman on Earth…

I had to be willing to let people in. To say, “here’s the truth about what’s going on in my life.”

“Yep, Sam and I go on awesome vacations and I will continue to post those photos in my Instagram stories…”

“And also there’s this stuff too.”

Now, I get that most people aren’t writers so they probably won’t share their inner world in *quite* the same way that I do. Maybe you’re more of a “hey, can we get a cup of coffee?” type than a “and here is my essay on infertility!” kinda gal.

But those are just details. The real meat and potatoes is this:

We need people. Humans need other humans. And we also happen to be going through a loneliness epidemic that terrifies public health experts.

Do you know how a loneliness epidemic gets addressed? One person at a time.

So, here’s me casting my vote for transparent truth-telling. Inviting people in. Encouraging others to trust you with their truth. And, importantly, being someone who’s worthy of that trust.

I get that it’s a little weird that my whole life is an open book on the Internet.* But the rewards of this transparent way of living – there’s nothing greater. A friend just offered me the USE OF HER WOMB, if I need to remind you.

Sending love to everyone who likes to communicate the way that I do – and also to the people who don’t. There’s a tribe for all of us,

Keely

*Since I’m into honesty, I’m going to end by saying that my whole life isn’t actually an open book on the Internet – I’m a “write from your scars, not your open wounds” kinda gal. My open wounds are things I talk about over tea with my inner circle and professionals. The musings come once I’ve gained perspective. I didn’t start writing about this particular topic until I’d reached a place of ease around it.