Not Everyone Gets The Memo

The day that I found out that I had miscarried, I immediately made a few announcements (mostly online) to people, in order to stop the influx of inquiries about the baby. I also requested that people not flood me with their condolences; I just wanted to be left alone with my grief. Naturally, not everyone got the memo (and I certainly wasn't as thorough as I could have been when updating people), and for weeks and months afterwards I still received comments and queries regarding the pregnancy that no longer was.

In the beginning it was very hard. A friend left a comment on a Facebook picture of me on a unicycle: "Is that safe in your condition??" A neighbor asked me several months later how far along I was, even though I was clearly not visibly pregnant and should have been far into my second trimester. I got a call from my insurance company's maternity department to talk to me about my birthing options. Even as recently as Halloween, an acquaintance at a party blithely asked, "You were pregnant the last time I saw you. How'd that go?" [I just as cheerfully responded, "I miscarried!"]

It happens. All the time, it happens. And for the most part I've gotten used to it. I know that one of these days will be the last time - it has to be. People can't go on asking me about the baby forever, right?

In any case, the most recent faux pas was especially sad. Marcus and I used to model for a friend of his back when we were dating, and since he moved to Maryland to be with me, he's only kept in contact with her through the occasional email. Apparently they must not talk that frequently, because she emailed him the other night asking if we wanted to bring the baby in for family photos.

One of these days it will end, I'm sure of it. It has to.