In Which I (Almost) Disappoint Everyone

Today is Saturday. The agenda included two workouts (one for each parent) and a little girl's birthday party. Also included were meals and a possible trip to the grocery store. Typical weekend day, right? Read on if you want to know how that day goes for a mother who has lost a child.

First, a little background: everyone grieves differently, and mothers and fathers are no exception. In this particular family, Mother often wants to talk about her son, who died, when Father does not. Often, when they do talk about their grief, they just end up fighting. So they just stop talking about it. For example, if Mother feels anxiety in a group setting, she might not tell Father. Or she might think she told Father, but she really did not. Because her brain does not work like it used to, and she forgets a lot of things. So, she might have forgotten to tell Father that they REALLY need to be on time for this birthday party, because she does not want to walk into a big group.

So Mother heads out for a run. She wants to run 9 miles, but her GPS is not working, which she discovers about six minutes into her run on a new route when it tells her she has already run a mile. (If this were fiction, I'd leave out the part about the GPS malfunction and make our protagonist a SUPER-fast runner.) Running is this mother's time to think about and be with her son. But today, she is just trying to figure out the stupid GPS and calculate how far and fast she is running, so she squanders that time with her son. (Remember, she is also quite uptight about some things.)

She gets home 90 minutes before the party is supposed to start. Father and Daughter are still in their pajamas. Father decides, now that Mother is home, he will get ready to go to the gym. The family has a gym membership to a club with childcare, so Mother cannot fathom why Father did not leave already for his workout or why he did not get ready during the HOUR AND A HALF that Mother was out running. Now the family is going to be late to the party, which Mother absolutely cannot handle. But Father does not know this (although he does know that Mother likes to be on time). And Mother was a little late getting home.

So, Mother completely explodes. Daughter gets upset, and Father is furious. Father says he is not going to the party and leaves. If Father is not going to the party, Mother cannot go, because Mother cannot be alone with other families that have not lost children.

Birthday Girl is turning three. Daughter is also three and is really looking forward to this party. Mother is good friends with Birthday Girl's family and told them weeks ago that they would be at the party. They even ordered special food for Daughter, who has some food allergies. Fortunately, they are very understanding and gave Mother lots of room to come for a short time, bail at the last minute, etc. But, Mother is keenly aware of the disappointment the birthday girl will feel if Daughter doesn't show up, not to mention Daughter's disappointment. And Mother really likes their whole family and is looking forward to seeing them as well. However, Train Wreck Mother at said birthday party would be decidedly worse (and would probably scar Birthday Girl for life). So Mother has to send the dreaded text to Friend/Birthday Girl's Mom less than one hour before the party starts that they might not make it. Yes, she has just turned into THAT person.

You see, mothers of children who died are no longer "normal." Doing normal things with normal people is a monumental task. They can be terrifying. And mothers who used to be very friendly and chatty are no longer that way. So they feel even more weird if they just sit quietly and don't interact with anyone else at a group function.

Mother feels horrible. She feels like so many people were counting on her regarding this party. Now she has to make it up to Daughter somehow, so they need to do something fun together. Mother would rather lie in bed and cry, because she misses her son so badly, but she takes a shower instead. In the middle of all this, Father comes home. She discovers about ten minutes after the party started that he did not actually go work out and that he is ready to go to the party. She had assumed he wasn't going (because he said he wasn't going), so she hadn't even talked to him about it (or anything else, for that matter; remember they had just had a huge blowout).

So they go to the party. They arrive late. Birthday Girl's extended family is there, and Mother has met most of them. Mother, Father, and Daughter do not know anyone else besides Birthday Girl's family. Mother used to be very good at remembering names and faces. She meets several new people and promptly forgets all of their names, even re-introducing herself to someone about thirty minutes after initially meeting him. Although no one notices, she is very embarrassed.

But then a crazy thing happens: Grieving Family actually has a good time at the party. Mother wonders if the other guests know about her son, because NO ONE asks a question that would require talking about him, and it is such a relief. Now, do not misunderstand: Mother's favorite topic of conversation is her son, but talking about him always makes her cry. Tears do not belong at a sweet little girl's birthday party (or at a mean girl's birthday party, or a nice or mean boy's party, for that matter).

One person does bring up her son: Birthday Girl's grandma. She apologizes to Mother for her loss, tells Mother how Birthday Girl's mom has kept her updated, and that it is completely heartbreaking. They both cry, but they are both wearing sunglasses, so it's OK. Mother really appreciates the acknowledgment.

Daughter has a good time at the party but keeps sneaking off to play inside. Sometimes she really prefers playing by herself, and Mother worries that she is lonely. After all, she should have a baby brother at home. When Grieving Family gets ready to go home, Daughter decides to run around the house. She runs right into the nursery that is currently awaiting the arrival of Birthday Girl's little brother. This is a tangible reminder of all Mother has lost. Of course, Daughter chooses to have a meltdown in that particular room.

While at the party, Mother mostly felt fine. As Grieving Family left, though, Mother realized how much energy it required to have a good time. She is a crying mess for the rest of the day and spends the afternoon in bed. Father, bless him, takes Daughter to run errands and to the playground after her nap.

Mother appreciates the invitation to the party. If she had to do it all over again, she still would have gone to the party (this time). She realizes that her family might simply be left off a lot of guest lists now; who wants to be around such sad people? In truth, Mother will decline the vast majority of invitations for a very long time. However, Mother would rather make the decision herself. Invitations to parties tell Mother that people are not afraid of her, and that they care.

With the holiday season in full swing, Mother has to navigate a minefield of parties, outings, and other "fun" events. She does not want to go to anything, but, remember, she has Daughter, whom she loves beyond description. Daughter deserves a season of warm memories.

Tonight, Mother will go to sleep, hoping that her new life is just a horrible nightmare. She will desperately hope to see, touch, hold her son in her dreams, but it will not happen. And then she will wake up tomorrow and start over again.

The End

P.S. Weston. I cannot get through a post without saying his name.