Dinner and a mug

2.8.14

     As we all gathered back at the main room, we were each invited to grab a mug from a table that had about 50 of them sitting on it. The mug I picked was small and plain with the exception of the Hope Mommies logo and a coral-colored rim. There was a blemish along the rim- I don't know what else to call it. It looked and felt like somebody had rubbed their finger over the porcelain too many times and the top layer of smoothness had been worn away. It wasn't quite a chip, but it was worn down enough to have a visible difference that you could feel as you run your finger over the rim.
    Elyse and I had bonded, so we sat by each other for each of the meals that weekend. She sat her Bible and mug down to the right of me, and who came up on my left but the Erin. And who was next to her but the Kellye who had made all these mugs in the first place and written one of the most beautiful blog posts I've ever read.
    We chit chatted, I have to admit I was a little nervous. Here we were, sitting at this table with women who were doing something extraordinary. They had taken their losses and made them absolutely beautiful as an outreach to others like me who would lose their babies. Each story was unique. Each story had an element (or many elements) of grace recognition where we could see exactly where God's hand had been in our lives to soften the blow.
     Kellye leaned over to me after the meal and said, "I want to hear your story! You were on TV, weren't you?" Oh my gosh, what? Eventually, I figured out that the clips that I posted on facebook were the only things you could see on my profile if you weren't friends with me. And then I realized how conceited that made me look... Um oops.
     "Oh yeah, I was..." I giggled nervously. I started to tell the story of Alex's deployment and our loss, and eventually came around to the Treasure You contest.
     "That's amazing!" gushed Kellye, completely oblivious to my embarrassment that these girls probably thought I was some big deal or something (I'm not. I'm definitely nobody. God just likes to use me for stuff.).
      Then we started talking about our mugs, and that's when Kellye chimed in with, "I'm so glad you all like them! I had so much fun making them!" That is when I realized that she was the one who had written the blog post (I hadn't even registered her name with her writing), and I told her how much her post meant to me and it was really one of the confirming moments that I was suppose to come to this retreat.
   
      Eventually, Erin called us all to the other end of the big room where a projector and two microphones were set up. She told us the story of her daughter, Gwendolyn, who had only been with them about 3 days after she was born. She talked with love as she told the story of holding her daughter, and she through her words, she started to cry.
      "I promised myself I wasn't going to be upset about crying. And neither should any of you. If you need to cry, go for it. This hurts, and this is why we're here. Don't try to be too strong and not cry, we all love you. And Jesus loves you. And Jesus loves your babies. Our babies are all gathered in Heaven right now celebrating that their Moms are together. You are so loved, each one of you." She said from the microphone.
       After the initial introduction, she invited us to gather into groups of 4-5 and share our stories. Elyse and mine group ended up being 8 people. There were girls from all over the state of Texas. Two girls from out near our home town who had been connected when one of them heard of the loss of the other one and how she wasn't going to take any pictures. The veteran Hope Mommy got in her car and rushed to the hospital to love on the fresh Hope Mom, and to encourage her to take pictures because she'll want them later.
       There were two other girls from the Dallas area, one who's loss was as fresh as November, meaning it was barely 3 months ago. She cried as she told us her story of loss at full-term, eerily similar to our loss with Kaitlyn. One of the sponsors of the retreat named Carla, who had not experienced a loss herself but shared a passion for reaching out to Hope Moms, snuggled her chair up in our group to just listen to all the stories. We cried, and we giggled when there was a funny part of a story, and we loved each other.