I was recently re-trying this whole playgroup game when an expecting mother told us a JoAnn's employee had told her a "horrific" story about mistaken gender of a baby in utero (she actually used that word: "horrific"). That poor little family had painted and decorated the room pink only to find out their baby girl was indeed a little boy. They had to repaint and buy boy clothes. Those poor, poor souls.
(Don't get me started on the absurdity of colors and babies. Their son would have been scarred for life if he slept in :GASP: pink)
When I hear the phrase "you never know" and "horrific story" my mind now goes to the countless stories about dead children, the death of babies, the lost of our most precious. The sickening fact that it can happen again in a subsequent pregnancy (excuse me while I have a panic attack). How many women do I know, whose stories I have read/heard of who would KILL to have their child alive and well..... boy, girl, mentally retarded, special needs, deformed..... Bring it on. We would take our babies in anyway possible. And these women were chatting about how awful it would be to have to redecorate.
These acquaintances know my history. It's always one of the first things that come up when meeting another mom. They know I lost a full term daughter under a year ago and a little Liam under a year before that. How can anyone be so insensitively oblivious?
I had the realization while sitting there that I have nothing in common with these women.
"So what have you been up to since I have seen you?? What is new?" Mentally I went through it all..... **Collapsing into a pile of flesh, blood, bones, and tears at The Walk to Remember....Trying to conceive baby #4 while in a unscalable Riley grief hole.... The slow death of the garden that has been so therapeutic for me and what that means for my mental health.... My decision to donate business proceeds to Rowan Tree Foundation..... The awesomeness of the Capture Your Grief photo project..... Making prayer flags for my babies....** I couldn't think of one acceptable life occurrence. I knew what their reactions would be to the raw realness of my life; they can't handle it. My response, "Nothing, really."
Needless to say I left, and have no intention of going back. Life is too short and I don't have the patience for your silly little views of "horror."