Falling to Pieces

We start our postpartum group with highs and lows every week; sometimes, we don't get much else accomplished. Often, we're able to cheer accomplishments (GED graduations, tests passed, a great visitation with kids). Sometimes our time is spent together laughing, more often than not, there are tears. Today was (as one member of our group put it) "a Kleenex kind of day" when we spent more time on lows than highs.

We welcomed a new member to our group who recently gave birth. She was clearly grieving the loss of contact with her baby. Her whole body hurt, she said, as the tears rolled down her cheeks, and she put her hands to her still-swollen breasts. She apologized for "falling to pieces." Immediately, three other group members encouraged her to let her big feelings flow and passed her the box of tissues. She was given tips for coping and her feelings were validated as being normal.

She sat, encircled by women who knew exactly why she felt like falling apart and cried openly. We did not solve any big problems today; we certainly didn't heal any broken hearts. But we did create a safe space where one woman realized she was not alone and that, at least for these two hours on a Thursday morning, she could sit with other women who understood her pain and fall to pieces.

And maybe falling to pieces is the first step to knowing how to put those pieces back together.