Today I had lunch with two of my good friends from college (at a truck stop diner, no less!). It was delightful. We laughed and caught up, and it was a wonderful reprieve from my daily life of doing very little.
While we were talking, I brought up my anxiety about going back to work. "Is it easier for you if people don't bring it up, or do you want to talk about it?" asked Jen. "I'd rather talk about it," I said, "I'm still a parent. My daughter died, but I'm still a proud parent who went through something that all mothers go through (meaning birth, labor, etc), and I'd rather talk about it." I told them that last week I had a happy hour with a group of co-workers, and no one brought it up. "Do you just sometimes want to yell, 'My baby died!'?" asked Lindsay.
I was thinking about this on my drive back to Milwaukee. I mentioned the other day that I've found very little humorous about this situation, but for some reason the vision of me yelling, "My baby died!" struck me as rather funny. There are few things in this world that a person can say that will stop conversation in its tracks. Unless you're a cast member on this season of "Big Brother" (speaking of, you guys need to cut that shit out. Seriously. People watch that show to see who gets fat, who's stupid enough to have sex on camera, and who lies the most. If we wanted rampant racism and homophobia, we'd watch "The Real World"). Ahem. Anyway, there are very few NON-racist/homophobic/xenophobic things a person can say that will literally cause conversation to stop. "My baby died" is one of those things. It kind of negates anything else you say, and would probably excuse a lot of bad behavior.
Then I started thinking about how far I could really push this. Some ideas I've come up with:
In my Monday morning meeting at work, when everyone inevitably starts squawking and complaining, I'd like to yell, "Shut the fuck up! Please!" and then, just before I'm reprimanded, I'll say, "I'm sorry, my baby died."
"That outfit is terrible. You look really slutty. Are you even allowed to wear that to work? I'm sorry, my baby died."
"I can't interview for that promotion? That's okay. I mean, my baby died, so it's not like my husband and I REALLY need the extra money."
"What do you mean I can't wear sweatpants to work? I gave birth (remember, my baby died and I had to go through labor?), and now none of my clothes fit, and you wouldn't let me interview for a promotion, and now I don't have money to buy all new clothes. Who are you, anyway? Regina George? Do I have to wear pink on Wednesdays?"
Perhaps I shouldn't try to push it at all. But if I'm going to make people uncomfortable, I'd at least like to enjoy it. Do I sound bitter? Maybe I am. My big issue is that people try to say, "I just don't want to make Kim uncomfortable by talking about it." That's bullshit. You don't want to make yourself uncomfortable trying to come up with something to say. By ignoring my daughter's very existence, you ARE making me uncomfortable. I went through a terrible thing. One of the worst things. But it happened to ME, not you. I don't need pity, I need understanding and support. Can't you give that to me? After all, my baby died.
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