Yesterday, I met some of my fellow PE survivors in person. They are a lovely group of ladies who are absolutely dedicated to supporting each other and hopefully helping to find a cure someday.
As I sat in the room where we gathered, I kept smiling at the children playing around all of us. The kids were laughing, fighting, crying, and just plain having fun as we mommys shared our PE stories and experiences. It dawned on me that our kids are why we PE survivors want to help so much. We want our hard work in getting our kids into the world to mean something not only to ourselves but to the "greater good."
While I was happy to be around other PE survivors, I had a moment of anxiety as I sat there. I suppose that is my post traumatic issues cropping up like lurking monsters in a closet. To my friends and family who've never experienced PE, I'm sure that I sound like a broken record of neverending PE discussions, but there in that comfy living room, I could free my thoughts and say what I wanted to say. It was cathartic, but somehow opened my old emotional wounds again about PE. My survivors guilt is sometimes enough to open the flood gates of tears and send me into a tailspin, but I think I'll make it. Looking at my daughters' beautiful faces helps me everyday.
As I've said before, I wouldn't wish PE on anyone, not even a worst enemy. I can only hope that PE will be better understood and even cured by the time my beauties have kids of their own. I know that this is a long way off, but if either of my daughters ever become pregnant, I'm pretty darn sure that I'll end up on some sort of anti-anxiety med until the day they give birth safely.
So in closing, I make a "virtual toast" to all of you who know what I mean. HUGS!
Jen, mom of Grace & Meghan