We went out for dinner last night. Q has been on call and much of his day was spent dealing with some mess while typing away on his laptop. I worked for hours in the garden, pulling weeds and even planting some new things. So after he was finally done working and I was cleaned up, we decided cooking was not an option, so we went out.
We ate at a nice neighborhood restaurant. We got a table outside and enjoyed our drinks while we waited for our food. The food was fabulous, by the way. All of it was lovely until the hostess sat a family of four right next to us. Like 2 feet away from us. Cute kids, normal looking parents, but let me declare, THE MOST ANNOYING MOTHER IN THE WORLD.
Okay, I know. I’m in no state to be judging parents. Just the fact that parents ARE parents is a sore spot for me right now. But I am sure that even in a more normal and serene state of mind, this woman would have made me bonkers. For those of you who know me in person, you know that fake mother voice I put on, right? With the midwest accent and I say things like “Oh! You better not be doin’ the marijuana, Billy!” That voice. It’s a lot like Kitty from That 70’s Show, except so much worse.
Anyway, that’s how this woman spoke. And one of her kids was WAY too young to be in a kind of nice restaurant. He needed to be at Red Robin or something. He hated everything and yelled and was overall really annoying. And the husband was silent. I tried to ignore and look away, but we couldn’t help but hear her lecture her small children on how they HAVE to have full body wet suits on their upcoming trip to Hawaii because without them, they’ll get too cold.
Anyway. Yes, she was annoying but it wasn’t like she was hitting her kids in front of us or anything. She was just annoying. Kind of funny that just a few hours after posting about letting go of resentment, I dealt with just that. Resentment. Lots of it. I mean, I’m sure I’d be an annoying mom in a lot of ways. But I’d be a cool mom too. I couldn’t help but think of one of the many teens I’ve worked with who said “You’d be the cool mom, like really fun but strict at the same time.” It was a huge compliment and at the time, I hoped someday that would be true. Now I feel so discouraged and dark that I can’t help but just be pissed at the world that the annoying lady with the ugly sandals and a desire to cover her children in neoprene while vacationing in a tropical paradise, that SHE gets to have these cute healthy kids. And also, that I have to hear her crap when I’m trying to enjoy my dinner and fill my babyless abdominal area with a fancy glass of Pinot. No! I can’t enjoy it! I have to hear her shrill voice saying “That’s not nice!”… “Oh but the aquarium was fun!”…. “But you liked alfredo sauce last time! It’s the creamy kind!”
Yeah so that’s me. Angry. Bitter. Same old stuff.
I feel rather crazy some minutes, some hours, some days. Truthfully I am a bit afraid that I’m going to stay like this forever. Really, know I won’t and this moodiness and grumpiness and sharp bursts of anger are all part of the process. But I’m still scared that I’ll be the grumpy cat forever. My humor is getting darker and darker, I’m bitter about so many things right now, and I even listened to TWO Nine Inch Nails albums today. What is that?! I haven’t done such a thing since I was an angsty seventeen year old.
This is the tough thing with loss- we are crazy when we lose something. It is hard as hell and it hurts. Loss comes with a lot of hard to feel emotions- sadness and anger and guilt… we feel it drag us down but at the same time we’re changing and adjusting to the absence of what we once had and what we once loved. Evolving in that way is hard but the alternative is to not evolve. I don’t understand how I couldn’t change after going through a miscarriage, so then I’d have to be living in a world of denial. The desire to avoid all of these emotions is understandable because it is not fun to feel this way. But this is the way through it and I just gotta keep going. Every so often, I get a glimpse of how this awful time will make me a stronger person. It may even help me to better serve others. But most of all, I’m just doing whatever I can to get through it. That’s really the main reason I write here, I’m just trying to deal with it.
“Scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue. Realize the strength. Move on.” -Henry Rollins
Okay, Henry. I’ll try.