We hosted the most recent support group get together in our puny apartment. Besides not being able to all fit at our table and therefore having to eat dinner off our knees by the television, it was a great visit. It just feels nice to see people healing—actually notice it—and see my own healing reflecting in them too. That first support group meeting in the hospital seems so long ago, yet at the same time if I really think about it I can picture every little detail. Everyone’s nervous, sad face, me (and others) bursting out crying when introducing myself, the kind nurses sharing their own stories and looking so beat that they have to continue running the meetings time after time…I wonder if these will always be with me?
Anyway, we stayed up way too late just chatting, eating (a lot), and eventually attempting to play some dirty game we had previously discussed. It wasn’t nearly as dirty or exciting as I imagined, unfortunately, but we did learn a thing or two about each other that may have otherwise never come out. It’s great to follow their stories (back to non-perverse ones), learn how they are coping and moving through the pain and memories, hear what their options are to bring home a baby. It ranges from adoption to a special diet to not being sure if trying again is the right thing to do. Each one is so devastating and interesting, awful and magical at the same time. How nice it would be to think that babies just happen?! One couple is moving to Chicago, and the burly, bearded, gambling-loving father started to cry when he said the hardest thing about going would be leaving the place where they had and said goodbye to their precious second son. SOB. But we’re in it together, and I always loved a team. 
No comments:
Post a Comment