"I'm not an octopus"

Why is it the babylost often overhear the most uncomfortable conversations in playgrounds?

After listening to two mums today, I realised once again just why I really don't fit in.

Simon had a rare day off and when my freelance work for the day finished up, we headed to the local park. I'd discovered a few weeks back just how much Angus loved the swing, so I wanted to take Daddy so he could give him another go.

One mother was there with her toddler and baby, about the same age as Angus. He sat happily in his pram while she put the toddler daughter in the swing. She pushed her higher, higher and HIGHER. The kid was obviously having a ball, but I tried not to pay too much attention. Too hard, too close to home.

We put Angus in one of the other swings, and went about our business of pushing him and watching him squeal with delight. I have to pinch myself when I get to do normal parent things like this. I really am very lucky.

Enter another mother. Toddler daughter walking by her side, baby daughter in her arms. She had trouble getting her toddler in the swing while holding her baby, so the other mum stepped in to help her out. Conversation went something like this:

Mum 1: "Would you like a hand?"

Mum 2: "Oh yes, thanks, that would be great."

Mum 1: "No problem, it is so hard with two, isn't it?"

Mum 2: "Oh I know, one was hard but TWO, oh my god, two is SO hard. I only have one pair of hands!"

Mum 1: "Yeah, I know. I keep having to say I'm not an octopus!"

Mum 2: "Hah, yeah, so true."

Mum 1: "You're just so much busier, don't feel like I get a spare moment."

Mum 2: "Yes and I'm so tired."

Mum 1: "Oh, me too."

Mum 2: "And it is figuring out what each one wants, and when."

Mum 1: "Yes, you realise how different they are and how you have to respond to their different personalities."

By this stage, we were taking Angus out of the swing, putting him back in the pram and walking away.

They kept talking and I just tuned out. "Blah blah blah, two babies are hard, blah blah blah."

Had I stayed any longer, I might have thrown up in my hands. I can't blame them for their idle chit chat, it was perfectly friendly and normal, but it just stings. And I was worried before long they were going to start talking to us, the LUCKY people with just the one little bundle to look after and I really didn't want to answer any questions they might have thrown our way. There is still no easy way to answer those innocent questions. Lie and say yes he is our first then feel like a guilty shit afterwards or tell the truth, drop the stillbirth bomb and then watch them squirm in the tan bark.

I actually smiled at Simon as we walked off. I said "SEE, this is why I feel like a freakshow, THIS is why I'm still so broken. THIS is why I want to come home and stab out my eyeballs."

"Don't stab out your eyeballs," Simon cheekily said back to me. I laughed.

I suppose the difference is now we can laugh about these things. Now we can smile. At least we were at the park. At least Angus gives us a reason to go.

I guess if we didn't laugh, we'd cry. And in two years, we've certainly done plenty of that.