Me and the Women

I went to book club tonight and it was wonderful. There is something about being in a room full of women who enjoy the same things that you do. I do not know if men get to experience this camaraderie in the same way. Books, good food and in actuality great talk about pretty much every topic imaginable except the book that we just read. I doubt that any of these women actually look forward to book club night because they are excited to talk about the book. I think that although I didn't think about D very much at all, I did think about the baby a lot. But for some reason it wasn't that sharp searing pain that I get when my mind comes across that thought. It was a sense that some of these women would understand my story. They would identify with it. Perhaps have similar experiences of their own. A lot of these women are mothers so I hear about babies and pregnancy a lot. At times it is painful but tonight it was somehow OK. I didn't have to pretend that I didn't know what it felt like. I didn't have to pretend that I do not have this hole in my heart. I didn't have to pretend I am not yearning for something I may never have now. I didn't have to hide those feelings because they really do not know me and they do not know my story. So my pain is not so real to them and my face is not so readable. I could hide behind my mystery and just be there. No looks of understanding or pity. Just me in a room full of women; mothers or pregnant or childless alike.