I invited Ben and Jerry to my pity party; now you know it’s bad. Beefcake’s sister is in town and staying at his parents house. We were all set to go and suddenly I changed my mind yesterday. With big huge tears streaming down my face, I told my husband I couldn’t. “This is bad”, he said. “I can’t share my family with you”. I felt terrible for him, but let me just tell you a little more.
1. Yesterday was Emi’s due date, again.
2. I am still bleeding from my birth to Daniella. It is very light and comes and goes but I have an appointment for a sonogram (oh the irony) scheduled for this Tuesday.
3. We just got Daniella’s ashes last weekend.
4. My husband’s sister wil be bringing her son that is roughly 4 months old. Yes, the little baby that despite being born prematurely lived, while my baby died. (I know, NOT his fault, but the reminder is there).
5. Other children and babies would be present.
6. The moms of two of those babies were pregnant with me, when I was pregnant with Emi. When I see their girls (yes girls to boot) I think of what could have been.
My husband thought I might need professional help. He left and went on his own. Later that night (yesterday) he came home and gave me a kiss while I lay in bed. He told me he loved me. I told him I loved him back. This morning we spoke. I argued that perhaps if I said I would never go out for fear of babies/kids that would be one thing; but that under the circumstances he must forgive me if I passed on a visit to baby land yesterday. For the past several weeks I have been going out nearly everyday, and yes I did encounter babies and children but went out anyway. His comment, I told him, totally negated all the effort I put into getting out. I offered him that they could come over here, my home. Where I could feel more comfortable and where no one would unexpectedly drop by with their kids in tow. (At my in-laws, people are always dropping by with their kids, seriously. They have a large pool and backyard and it’s the summer, so I think you get it).
“Well they don’t feel welcomed”, he said. What the fuck-fuck?! “Beefcake, have I ever insulted them when they’ve come over? No. Yet for years everytime I would go to their house I received a jab about my weight. The one time I spoke up, and you didn’t, your dad gets insulted. I know that you love your family dearly, and I am not saying I don’t want to see them (yeah right), but we should compromise.” I offered alternatives:
1.They could come over here.
2. They could call up their friends with all their babies and say Jaded Me is coming over today, with the loss and all we thought it would just be us for today?
3. The four of us could all get together at a local diner.
Hello, I am the one who has lost two babies. Give me a fucking break. So I sent him away encouraged him to go over his parents house today, again. Really, I just want him to spend more time with his sister before she leaves, and I want some time to mope around the house. He reluctantly left, he hates to leave me crying. “Call me if you change your mind”, he offered. Yeah. Right. He did something cute though, he brought a change of clothes with him incase I wanted us to go out tonight to a club in the city. Mr. Diplomat and BigSexy and their friends may go out with us. Maybe. Before he left he admitted that he just got frustrated yesterday. He doesn’t want to see my cry. Poor baby, he lost his daughters too.
But right now, that’s all I am good for. Crying. And I have reason to.