Monday, February 6, 2012

Horror in Isle 9

I saw her right away. I always see the babes immediately. Riding around in their open or mercifully blanket-draped carseats. Some are carried by moms, some by dads and some by shopping cart. The worst are the beautifully blanketed carried by arms or an occasional carrier. She was one of the worst.

I could tell from pretty far away that she was a newbie newb. A month old, max. Probably not even that old. Her mom was carrying her in a pink blanket; loving her, snuggling her, rocking and talking to her. The lucky bitch. I know that sounds harsh...the hate I often have for the moms..... I need to be mad at someone. And really, deep down, I'm just jealous.

I avoid her for the majority of the grocery store visit and avert my eyes if ever she, or any other infant, comes anywhere near. I even get stuck down the same isle with her and yet, I turn my back; I keep my composure. I am an isle or two away. Suddenly....she is mewling a newborn's cry and I can't take it. I stand there with my son, just sobbing. I'm trying to hide it (yeah right....everyone knows I'm crying).

Hunter asks, "What that noise?" and I tell him it's a baby. FLASHBACK to my months pregnant. I approached complete strangers with babies to show Hunter our future. I remember hearing cries and looking for the baby. "That's what we are going to have at home!" But we don't...

Logic is somewhere in my brain as I sob and struggle for some semblance of composure. Run. RUN! Get your kid and your stuff and get the hell out of the store. Go now! But I can't. I'm stuck in molasses like a bad dream; I can't move. I'm stuck, struggling, sobbing against boxes of Shredded Wheat as each of her cries rips away my carefully constructed, and false, front. Thankfully they leave the store soon.

I'll never get to hear my babies' cries. And it sucks.

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