The grocery store is causing me some anxiety. One day two weeks ago I ran in to buy milk and eggs and the experience was oddly painful. I’m new to this town, so it’s not like I would run into anyone I know there. And on the slim chance I did, I’m pretty sure they’d know my circumstances. Maybe I’m hesitant to see moms and their kids in a place that many moms are with their kids. Maybe I’m afraid I’ll see baby related stuff. When I went in a few weeks ago, I almost started right down the baby aisle- luckily I caught myself, but it didn’t feel good. Or maybe grocery shopping is a return to normalcy. I’ve cooked only one meal since I was hospitalized thanks to an army of friends and kind people. Cooking feels hard, though the idea of it is getting easier. I think I’ll start baking first. But cooking means meal planning which means grocery shopping. Things we did while I was still pregnant with Mabel. It’s like going back to everyday life as if things are fine and they are not fine. Everything has changed- but not in the grocery store. So I haven’t really gone grocery shopping.
I have a bridesmaid’s dress that need tailoring. The wedding is in 4 weeks. I’m not sure how long a tailor would need to do the job and I’m afraid to call. Because it’s not that simple. If I call, I’ll want to know the minimum amount of time she needs, because my body is still changing. I’m afraid she’ll think I’m just someone who is trying to lose weight last minute (there is some truth to that), but I think it’s very reasonable for my shape to change just being so recently postpartum. But I don’t want to say that. I don’t want to say, I think my body will be changing because I just had a baby. I’m afraid it will invite congratulatory comments, which I’m not in the mood for. I realize I may not need to do anything more than ask the minimum amount of time needed for tailoring, but my fears are still there. So I haven’t called the tailor.
We have new neighbors. When we lived in our old house and new neighbors moved in, I brought over some cookies and card welcoming them to the neighborhood, with our names and contact info on it. I remember having a debate with Chris and our roommate at the time about whether it was weird or not. I am a firm believer in welcoming people with food. It’s a nice gesture. Chris and roommate were unconvinced. They thought it was awkward (which it was a little bit- but I think that speaks to our old neighbors being awkward). When we moved into our current house a couple of the neighbors stopped by bearing food and introduced themselves. It was quite pleasant and not awkward at all, thus proving my theory on nice gestures. So now a family has moved in across the street. It’s the first house in a new development and I’m unsure if anyone has stopped by or not. I would like to but I’m afraid. I’m nervous because they might ask in the casual conversation that happens on the doorstep if we have any kids. On one of my babyloss boards, someone commented that they respond differently depending on the situation. If it’s a stranger they’d ever see again, they might not mention their lost child. If it’s someone they might have a relationship with in the future, they would mention their lost child. There is something about having existing kids already that might make this question easier to answer. Because if I had even one living child it easily identifies me as a mother. But no living child puts me in limbo. Not a mother. Not not a mother. And these neighbors could be someone we develop a relationship with in the future, but how do you bring the death of your only child into the first conversation? Yet I can’t seem to get my head around ever denying I had Mabel. To anyone. It’s hard enough that she’s not here. At this moment I want her memory to live on even if it makes interactions uncomfortable. I’m not ready for that discomfort yet, so I haven’t met the new neighbors.