While I was home, I decided to tell my mother about the miscarriage. I don't really have anyone in my circle that I can relate it to, and as far as I can tell support groups are hard to come by. She wasn't pleased. She gave me the usual rhetoric about stability and family and having a foundation before doing all that - which I understand - and I've taken it to heart. But she also told me what I needed to hear. She sat with me and asked how I was feeling, physically and mentally. She told me how to take care of myself, because the physical healing is slow. She listened when I told her how excited I was, and all the dreams I had. She hugged me tight when I started to cry. She even told me the full story about my two brothers that she lost before luck gave her me. I've never heard her talk about them. Only once in passing did she even mention Walter, the one just before me.
I understand her a little more now, a little better. And I feel better. My behavior, my reactions, my feelings are entirely normal. I needed the affirmation.