Went to a support group last night...

Monday morning I got a cryptic text "Tomorrow is the first Tuesday of the month"

I answered back "I'm not sure what to do with that information"

This resulted in texting all day Monday and most of Tuesday about if Jenn, Lyz and I wanted to go to a Share support group meeting. Monday afternoon it was determined that we would all assume we are going, until someone said no I'm not, and we could all change our mind up to 6:29pm Tuesday (the meeting started at 6:30.)

I never thought I would be the kind of person who went to a support group. I am way too shy to share my story and cry in front of strangers. But peer pressure won, as usual, and I went.

At first I was excited, there was only the three of us, the group leader and three other girls. I got less and less excited as the room filled and there ended up being 14 or 15 people.

I was to shy to share our story, Jenn had to share it for us. In fact I spent the first 20 minutes or so with my hands over my mouth shaking uncontrollably. I had my friend, the water bottle, sitting in front of me and all I could think was "Everyone in this room can see the water in this bottle splashing about because I am shaking so bad." Even though I know that everyone was in their own personal hell and could care less about my water bottle.

Lyz was the first in our threesome to talk (not including introductions). I honestly don't even remember what she said, isn't that awful? I think she was sharing her fear of the pregnant belly. There was a girl who is approaching her due date and Lyz wanted her to know that for Lyz at least, after the due date things get a little easier.

Jenn spoke up after everyone was talking about how the husbands don't seem to care, or are over it. Jenn wanted everyone to know that it is probably not the case. They have to go to work and instead of everyone saying "how are you?" they say "how's the wife?" They have to take a back seat if they like it or not. Men (and Jenn) see it as their role to be the supporter, and that they can't break down or show their hurt because the woman is hurting too much, and they might make that worse. Almost every single woman there came up to Jenn and thanked her for being there and sharing that with them. It made me beam with pride.

I did talk, and again I don't remember what about. I know the first time I opened my mouth both Jenn and Lyz did too in that gaping "Oh my goodness she's speaking" kinda way.

The meetings "end" at 8pm, so that it gives people an escape, but they do encourage you to keep talking to each other if you feel you need support or have support to give. I was filling out a newsletter sign-up sheet and this one girl, couldn't have been 21, was bawling in the corner. I got up and put my arm around her. I asked her if she needed a hug. She nodded and I just held her and let her go for awhile. I felt so bad for her. I whispered in her ear that she was too young to know such pain. I gave her my phone number and let her know that she could call me if ever she needed to talk, or even just a shoulder to silently cry on. I don't think she said a word during the entire meeting, and she just looked so alone. To me, this interaction was more helpful than any other part of the meeting.

At 3am I had a long conversation with myself about how gambling can never really be illegal. Life is nothing but gambling, we don't know the outcome we just jump in and hope and pray for the outcome we desire, the one with the big payoff. It was mentioned that over 100 children are born still at our local hospital every year. I don't think that's the nicest statistic to share with a room full of women who have suffered miscarriages and still births. It kinda freaks me out. So last night at 3am I thought about if the gamble is worth it...either we will lose it all, or we will get the biggest payoff in the world. I am truly hoping for the latter.