On Saturday morning, M and I packed up the car and drove the 3.5 hours to my parents' house in my hometown. My father's 65th birthday party was starting at 6 p.m., to be well-attended by family and friends.
To say I didn't want to go was an understatement. I had several sleepless nights, a pit in my stomach for days, plus an hour of therapy, but I was determined. As much as I didn't want to go, I felt staying home would be harder. Family had flown in from across the country- I couldn't justify not making the drive. The party has been in the works for years really, and I had to go. It would be the first time I had seen most of them since Charlotte. I was dreading it.
There were 60 people on the guest list. I think about 50 came. We had caterers so the work was minimal. My sister and I hung balloons and streamers, made punch and put cookies on platters. I was less than cheery. I was not in a party mood.
My mom's closest sisters, who live in Toronto, had made the trip with their husbands. One aunt welcomed a new grandchild into their family two weeks ago. The pregnancy was announced 2 weeks pre-Charlotte, and I hadn't heard anything else about it. To save me, I'm sure. The only way I knew the baby was born (a boy) was from that blasted face.book. No one had said a word to me about their baby, even though my cousin and I are close in age and have always been part of each others' lives.
Well, my mom must have given my aunt strict instructions to not mention this baby, because it was painfully obvious the whole evening. She slipped a couple of times when I was across the room.
Mom and aunt discussing vegetable platters:
"Oh, this is really nice, I'll have to get one of these for .... the christening." It was a normal conversation until the last two words, which were in a deliberate hush-hush whisper.
Aunt and my sister:
"S and J had to get rid of their dog... you know, when the baby came."
I felt like a freaking leper.
It was small talk after small talk, the whole evening. All of these clueless well-meaning relatives. Mom and dad's church friends. All baby-boomers who, at least around here, are of the mindset of "bury it and die". Pretend everything is just fine. Nothing ever happened. The worst, absolute worst possible attack of dealing with a deadbabymama.
Everyone kept asking me how I was doing, then answering for me. How are you doing, Heather? Good? Keeping busy, I guess.
I would just nod and look away and hope they would move on. They did.
After an hour of this I just couldn't stand it anymore. It was only 7:00. The house was packed, the doorbell ringing every couple of minutes. I told mom I was going upstairs to lay down. I couldn't stay there. I went to mom's room and watched home improvement shows for an hour or so. I could hear laughter and glasses clinking and a boisterous rendition of Happy Birthday. M came up and sat with me, saying that mom was driving him crazy, asking every two seconds if I was okay and is she always like this.
Mom came up to say that Mr S was asking for me, he really wanted to talk. I've known Mr S my entire life, but only at the acquaintance level. I prepared myself for the full everything happens for a reason/God works in mysterious ways speech before I came downstairs. It didn't take him long to find me.
Then it happened.
How's the little one doing, he asked with a smile.
I just looked. M was beside me. He just looked too.
What? I whispered.
Oh right, you lost your little one didn't you.
Then came the Everything happens for a reason/God works in mysterious ways speech.
I lasted the final couple of hours. The crowd dwindled. I found a comfy rocking chair in the corner by the fire and sat in it, rocking, silent, for the remainder of the party. I was ignored. I was glad.
Mom was in a tizzy the next day, telling me I should really be asking my doctors for antidepressants, that everyone commented that I didn't seem very well, that she was so, so worried.
I wanted to scream. What do you expect? My baby is dead! This is it for me now, my circle of friends and family either pretend it didn't happen altogether or make me feel like I'm diseased or say the stupidest of stupid things. I can't sit and smile and pass out birthday cake while listening to hushed whispers of baby-related things that I'm not supposed to hear. I can't.
This from our huge family who sent the requisite sympathy card after Charlotte with a bare signature and nothing else. Not one of them called. Not. One.
My mom has seven sisters. One brother. Countless cousins and second cousins and then there's dad's entire side of the family.
And not one call?
And all I got at this party was Oh so you're doing well, right? Keeping busy?
People are so clueless.
It's no wonder I hate going places now. Everywhere I go I'm either ignored or I feel like a leper.
It will be a long, long time before I make the trip home again.
13 comments:
Ugh, these gatherings are so hard. The leper feeling, I hate it, but I embrace it. Leave me alone already, it's ok.
And can I just say, I despise when people get rid of their dog because of a baby? Training people, training.
Glad you made it out ok. It does get better from here on out. Or, you just get immune to the ignorance.
So sorry, that did not sound like it was a very good evening. It always amazes me how flippant people can be about others grief. Now that you are away from there I hope you are feeling a little better. ((HUGS))
I can't believe Mr S actually asked about Charlotte and then conveniently remembered a moment later. People are such jerks. I'm really sorry that you had to go through that. It doesn't sound like you need antidepressants, more like everyone else needs brain transplants. I guess that's why sometimes it's good that lots of people don't know about my two losses. It's less crap for me to deal with.
I'm just so sorry you had to go through all of that. There are family members I am actively avoiding right now because the whole "God has a plan" speech is something I can't trust myself to handle, but to get it after being asked how your baby is, is horrific.
Funny how people, even the ones who love us, seem to want/need us to feel better so that they can feel better.
Erica, that is perfect, I think you're completely right. People want us to "feel better" and "go back to normal" so that they can feel better and act like nothing ever happened.
These types of functions are the worst....big hugs to you!
Ugh indeed. :p It's so awful when you don't want to go, make the effort anyway, & the result is as bad or worse than you had ever imagined.
These things do get easier, eventually, but the first couple of times are so hard. :( I'm sorry.
Holy Fuck, excuse my language but Jesus!! it's been 11 months for me and I still cry several times a week, um ya our babies died, that pretty much allows us to not be doing well or whatever. I delt with this yesterday with my Mother in Law who hates the topic and is most excellent and switching the conversation when Evan comes up. She called to ask if we were going to come to Toronto for Christmas, I told her no, that we didn't want to be around a baby at Christmas(Dave's sister is due anytime) and her response was, well that will an issue pretty much everywere won't it....Um no, I don't mean being in the same city as a baby, I mean having Christmas dinner and spending all weekend with a baby in the same room. My mom is just as bad, always telling me she is worried about me and I can't keep being so upset when someone has a baby cause people will continue to have babies, and it's not healthy for me to be so upset about it.
F%^k YOU. I dream about screaming this at everyone. Stupid Heads.
I found that family were the most clueless about this stuff. And that hurts a lot because you'd think they would be more sensitive. I have had far more comfort from new and old friends...Jeez, even the lady I met at the park yesterday with my son had more of a clue than my parents...
I'm so sorry for your loss. Charlotte is a beautiful name.
Oh Heather. I am so sorry. The whole thing sounds atrocious. It's one of the reasons that's kept me from going back home myself, knowing, even after a year has passed, my actions will be under a microscope. Because I should be over it by now. I should have been over it long ago. Of course, they seem to forget the "it" in that statement refers to my dead son.
This dblife is awful in so many ways, but surely what you describe is one of the worst. I'm sorry that you had to endure the insensitivity. Really. Truly. Very. And, if I'm being honest, it doesn't get any better. These people don't just suddenly get it. It's an awful, awful shame really.
Oh, God it's so horrible.
When we first lost our babies, we kind of excused poor behavior, saying "Oh, they're only trying to make themselves feel better, or less uncomfortable."
Well, I say, Screw them. They'll likely never be so uncomfortable.
I'm just so sorry. This is the reason I'm not going home for Thanksgiving, held at my brother and SIL's, and her family is odious.
I'm just so, so sorry.
My family acted in a similar way. It's only now, two years after I lost the twins that they can even bear to look at me again.
i could have written this. my family is ok about our losses, but my husband's family think i need an intervention if i stay to quiet for too long around babies. forgive me you assh----s, if your babies and happy demeanor are torture for me...just forgive me.
ugh.
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