Hurdles

Baby showers. While most people look forward to showering a new mom-to-be with everything baby, today quite possibly could have been one of THE hardest days of my life, second only to the day I lost my baby. L is 8 months pregnant and one of my closest friends, so today I put on my happy face to help hostess her baby shower. I had never felt more alone. While everyone ooh-ed and ah-ed over each thing that L opened I sat there with a blank stare on my face wishing that I could just disappear.

I had agreed to be a hostess months ago, before I ever knew I was pregnant actually. Myself and 7 other girls anxiously planned L's baby shower down to the very last detail. I was in charge of the decorations and punch. Sounds easy enough, right? Well, not exactly. To someone who has lost a baby just a mere 2 months ago, to them decorating for a baby shower is like asking a person who's recently lost a spouse when they're going to start dating again. It just seemed unfathomable. I was expected to come up with some cute-sy decorating idea which meant that I was going to have to walk down the baby aisle and pick out baby things. And I did. I came up with the idea to hang a clothes line on the mantle and hang baby clothes on the line. Then came the day that I had to walk down the baby aisle to pick out the items to hang on the line. My feet felt like they were made of lead. Every step I took down that aisle was cumbersome. I tried to get it done as fast as possible, but everything I looked at made me wonder if I would ever need that someday.

While I was doing the decorating today I was fine. Better than I thought I would be. Then everyone started showing up and talking about how big L's belly had gotten since they'd last seen her. And then it hit me. I should be showing right now. I should have a belly, too. I tried to fight off the feelings of disappointment and loss, but the more I fought them the sadder I got. I left the room to try and compose myself, but I just couldn't get it out of my head. The shower went on, and the more I watched the more my heart ached for my baby. Several people there knew that I had lost my baby. Were they wondering if I was okay? No one asked. I guess they were too afraid. I felt alone. One friend walked past me, winked as if to say, "I know this is hard for you," and then went on about her business. That made me feel good, I guess. But then it made me self conscious. Did I have a, "Get me out of here!" look written all over my face? Did I look like I had this horrible inner struggle going on inside of me? Part of me felt alone, empty, dead. But another part of me was so thankful that I wasn't pregnant at the same time as L. She is a cute, little pregnant thing, and I knew that I would just look like a whale compared to her.

Baby showers. I've never thought about it until I had lost my baby, but they aren't happy get-togethers for everyone. Maybe that's what this miscarriage was supposed to teach me. That I need to be empathetic to those around me because I just never know the struggles they've had to face. And that event that we're at together just might be their first hurdle in dealing with their grief.