...to the people who reached out in church tonight, explicitly or implicitly, to offer their support during what was a very tough gathering for me.
Yes, I was crying throughout the first half of the service (if you wondered). No, I won't tell you why- there are one or more conversations I need to have before I even consider making the source of my tears public. I may never blog about why, except for the fact that pregnancy hormones are really a pain for me, being that I hate crying in public, and I can usually get away with surrepticiously wiping away a few tears rather than full-on public bawling for half an hour. Jeff said he was proud of me for being real- I'd be proud if I'd had a choice about it, but I didn't (unless you consider I could have chosen to run to the restroom wet-faced, thereby drawing even more attention, which isn't much of a choice. Crying in bathrooms echoes, anyway, and since we were sitting next to the band, I felt more secure staying put). I'd make a longer post, but it's midterms this week and I really need to get my spanish verbs down. Good night.
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