We can be in constant damage control mode. Or we can get in a healthier lane and run.
I was walking to Quentin’s classroom at day care to pick him up. His former teacher from last year poked her head out of her classroom and stopped me, saying “I just have to ask, are you pregnant?”
I’ve said nothing to anyone at the school, and worn a large coat but it is getting harder to hide. I nodded and she said “Congratulations!” to which I quickly shook my head saying “No, no…” She misunderstood, thinking I was saying that I wasn’t pregnant and started to apologize to which I said “No, I am, 17 weeks.”
My eyes were watering, I said “Well, you know I lost the baby…. Actually I lost two babies…”
After losing Nelle, I had emailed the school’s director. I was worried that Quentin might say something, and at 21 weeks, everyone knew I was pregnant. No one at the school knew I lost Iris, because I had never even said I was pregnant. I had planned to do the same this time, at least for a few more weeks.
After losing Nelle, this same teacher told me how sorry she was. Quentin was in her class at the time. She told me that she had also had a stillborn baby, so she knew what I was going through.
When she saw my face in the hallway, my tearful eyes, she said “I know, you know I’ve been there. I wish the very best for you.”
As I gulped and turned away, I was angry with myself for reacting that way. Will I ever be able to be excited about this pregnancy? Accept congratulations, rather than crying? I had to tell someone on the phone the other day and could hear my voice shaking the entire time.
Quentin’s school concert/Spanish program was that night, and after the encounter with his former teacher I spent the entire time completely off balance and trying not to cry.