It is no wonder that in the last six months, I have removed myself from most of the social circles I used to mix in. I decline invites to birthdays, engagements, weddings and most obviously, anything to do with a baby.
I have missed quite a few first birthday parties in the last six months. And it truly breaks my heart, because these are the sort of events I would have rspv'd to in an instant just half a year ago. So many of my friends all seemed to be pregnant at the same time and had babies around the end of 2007 and the start of 2008. I was practically out on my own being due in August 2008. Now I'm really all alone.
I have a sneaking suspicion many of my friends were at another first birthday party this weekend. It only occurred to me a few days ago that she'd be turning one, as she was born on Labour Day weekend last year and this weekend just gone was the Labour Day weekend.
I get muddled a lot with dates these days. I forget things more easily. I don't have a calendar in my house anymore. Time seems insignificant when you have nothing to look forward to. The only dates I'm really looking at are the ones where I can find out if I'm pregnant again or the ones from 12 months ago, where I look back and get to play the oh-so-heartbreaking game of "this time last year". And for the record, I was about 17 weeks pregnant and I had just felt Hope move for the very first time. Just lovely.
The reason I'm not sure if they were at this party or not is because I don't know if she had a party. And the reason I don't know is, I was never sent an invite.
Sure, I would have turned it down. Sure, I'm choosing to exclude myself from these happy events, but I'm pissed that someone could think to make that decision for me. Yes I would have wept when the invite showed up all cutesy looking in my letterbox. Yes I might have thrown it on the ground, stamped on it and wallowed while I played the "why me" game one more time, but deep down I would have been glad to know that my presence at the party was still important to them. That I was still part of their lives and still valued as a friend. And that me, Simon and our Big Grief were still and always will be welcome. After all, I was there to celebrate the baby when she was born. I bought gifts. I gushed. I listened intently to the entire birth story, all the blood, sweat, meconium and tears of it. She had a dicey birth too, her baby was also in distress. I think this girl probably realises now more than many just how close she came and just how easily she could have ended up here on the Other Side with me. I never realised it at the time, but I do now. She was lucky. I was unlucky.
I just feel alienated enough as it is though, it hurts that others can do things like this to make it worse.
I know I'm a walking contradiction these days. I know people tread very lightly around me. I know no one knows what to say or what to do for fear of upsetting me, but please don't leave me out. Please let me make the decisions myself.
I could be totally wrong here. Maybe there was no party. Maybe they decided to save themselves the hassle and not to have one. But I find that all very hard to believe. Especially anyone who knows me and who was touched by Hope's life. As if they would NOT have a first birthday party? Because my friends know all too well how precious life is and how quickly it can be taken away. Anyone who knows me and who has beautiful live children is going to celebrate them much more than they ever did before. That was the lesson they so brutally learnt from me and my Hope.
Now that I'm back, and have been for a week, many are asking me "what's next?" I still don't know how to answer that. Things remain frozen, suspended, on hold until the next thing happens. And we all know what that is. I'm now hanging gingerly by a thread in limbo land, waiting for the news that will arrive on my doorstep in two weeks. I can't make decisions, I can't move, I can't do anything. Life remains firmly on hold.
But one thing remains constant: I'm still alienated. Part by choice and part by the careless actions of others.
#MicroblogMondays: Olympic hangover
6 hours ago
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I know how you feel. It's so hard to not know where you fit in the world. The anxiety and the feeling that people may be leaving you out for their own reasons and not your comfort. I'm sorry.
ReplyDelete"I know I'm a walking contradiction these days." I think I need this tattooed on me somewhere, well, temporarily tattooed. (that was a contradiction in and of itself,no?) but i am right there with you, sally. we are alienated. together. the lot of us. and well, that makes it a little easier.
ReplyDeletemuch love, and i am so sorry. people really can be asses.
i want a new social circle, one where everyone gets it, which basically means only babylost parents, with a few exceptions here and there. xoxo
ReplyDeleteOuch. Yeah that stings. :( That sucks Sally. Big time. They could have at least talked to you about it.
ReplyDeleteIt's such a strange world we live in now, and I've struggled with this one too. On the one hand, I'm somewhat of a hermit and often don't want to go out but it is still nice to be invited. Those don't come as much as they once did. It stings, I'm sure and for that I'm sorry.
ReplyDeleteI know.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry. When people try to spare our feelings by not consulting us about what we're comfortable doing or talking about, they often end up doing the wrong things. And even when it's kindly meant, it really hurts.
ReplyDeleteI'm starting to sympathize with the evil fairy from Sleeping Beauty, myself.
Much love.
Hi Sally,
ReplyDeleteJust letting you know I'm still here reading. And understanding.
Love,
Rhonda
Hi Sally,
ReplyDeleteIt sucks beyond words. I've been there, am still there. In the beginning when I turned down invite after invite I was always thinking that after awhile they would stop coming. They did, several months ago.
My husband and I have gotten used to hanging on our own, and with the few friends that have really stuck there with us.
The rest of them, well, what can you do.
Thinking of you, of course. I wish it wasn't so hard.
Sally,
ReplyDeleteI think we all echo your feelings. Other people in our lives often don't know what to do or say. It's funny, because I always feel like no matter what someone does or says sometimes, it won't be the "right" thing in my mind. That is a difficult pill to swallow, because, like you, I used to be the first one to help plan a party, the first one to hostess one! Now, I second guess everything. I think it's natural to protect ourselves, I'm just sorry that sometimes it's at the cost of the close to you.
Hang in there...
xo
I have a calendar, but I honestly don't know why since I never plan more than 2 weeks in advance, anyway. And yes on the alienation. I think some of it is in our heads, and some of it is real. The odd thing is feeling lonely when in a group of people -- when you suddenly realize that no one gets you one little bit.
ReplyDeleteA lot of people told me "I'm sorry" and then nothing more. They've been silent for two years. A lot of people never said anything in the first place. Is it my responsibility to engage them?
Yes, yes, yes and yes. You said it all. I am the walking contradiction. 2 lives, 2 blogs and 2 sets of friends. xxx
ReplyDeleteI'm like you--I would much rather receive the invitation and make my own decision about whether or not to attend.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry that you are stuck in limbo-land. It is a tough place to be--a mother waiting for someone to mother.
I just read this post Sally. We are transplants in San Francisco, no family here, which means friends are everything to us. We were not invited to a good friend's son's first birthday three weeks ago. Like you, I was frustrated that the decision was made for us that it would be better for us to not be there. I know it was done out of love, not malice, but I don't want to be treated differently. I already feel different enough. Thank you for your post, it brought me comfort today.
ReplyDelete