Those Questions

When does it get easier? When does it get easier to answer those questions? 'Is he your only? Is she your youngest? How many kids do you have? How old are they?'

Yesterday it happened twice. It really could have and probably should have happened many more times. We went to Mass and then we went to a surprise party for my brother, hosted by his co-workers (most of them I've never met).

The question first hit me at Mass. I was serving donuts and coffee when a new parishioner approached me, asking how often the church offers donuts (every Sunday -- wine and cheese on Saturdays). She said she wouldn't be able to volunteer for donut duty for quite some time -- she has four children after all. She said it in a way that I likely would have said it before. 'I'm just so crazy busy. My children would knock everything over and it'd be a circus.' Never thinking that the woman across from me also had four children, but physically held just three of them on a daily basis. Never thinking that holding my months old baby just inches from this woman's reach could evoke a roller coaster of emotions in her.

'Do you have children?'
"Yes, I have four. L (who was helping with donuts) is my eldest."
'The others must be with your husband. How old are they?'
"Um. Well. L's 7. O is 5 and N is 2. They are in the cafeteria for a fund raising meeting. And our baby . . . E . . . died."
'Oh. I'm so sorry. May I ask what happened?'
"She was stillborn."
'Recently?'
"November. How old are yours?"
'6, 4, and 2.'
"And the baby?"
'Five months.'
"Wow."
'I'm sorry.'

The second occurrence was at my brother's surprise party. I was outside with O when a lady who I previously judged a little off her rocker and perhaps drunk said, 'Is he your only?' "No. We have four." 'Oh, they must be inside. How old are they?' "Um. Well. L's 7. O is 5 and N is 2. And our baby . . . E . . . died."'I'm so sorry. My husband died of a heart attack five years ago. Three weeks later his sister died. I felt worse for their parents than I did for myself.' Lesson learned. We each have our own reasons for being a little off our rocker and perhaps drunk.

When I relayed these events via email to a couple blog friends, I failed to mention the second lady's situation. I regret that omission because I've come to realize it adds another dimension to the question. Surely she gets a similar casual question that hits her like a ton of bricks. Are you married?

***

The other night, I attended a gathering for my Just Faith group. We concluded our sessions in May. This dinner served as a venue for not just socializing but for brainstorming how we can better serve those less fortunate and how we can promote Just Faith to more parishioners. I know our facilitator didn't realize her words knocked me off my feet. I said nothing and simply tried to keep a panic attack at bay after she said, 'It's difficult to get people to commit to Just Faith. It's a weekly, nine-month-long curriculum. People question why they should commit to something for nine months and not have a baby to show for it.'

***

I've been taking Trazodone for five nights now. The first couple nights it didn't help me fall asleep, but it did cause intense sinus pressure. The third night I took Claritin along with it and it worked reasonably well with some sinus pressure. The fourth night I took it without the Claritin. It worked well and I felt very little sinus pressure. The fifth night I took it without the Claritin. It didn't do jack shit. (Sorry. I couldn't come up with anything better than that to express my frustration.) I'll keep taking it and hope for the best. The program my Clinic offers insures that somebody will call me to see how it's going. Thank God. Otherwise, I'd likely just keep plodding along.

Thank you to each of you for offering such heartfelt support. It may sound trite, but your words truly lift my spirits and carry me through many troubled times. Now, I hope to get caught up on your blogs so you know just how much I appreciate you.