I invited two other friends who each knew the birthday girl but not each other. They are both SAHMs as well, but one had her safely at school and the other found a babysitter as well. As we made introductions and got everyone acquainted, this is the bare naked reality that sat next to me:
One friend, age 38, has two preschool sons and her baby girl's in heaven. Three c-sections and health complications, complicated by age, and she's done bearing children. She loves her daughter a wishes should could keep buying pink.
Next friend has a boy and girl, both now in elementary school. Since they were born she has given birth to two stillborn babies and had one very late miscarriage and resulting D&C. Modern medicine hasn't been able to diagnose the problem or offer any hope of change. They desperately wanted more children, but can't handle another stillborn, so they have decided to stop trying.
Third friend had a boy and a girl three years apart, just as they planned, and intended to be done bringing children into the world. But when her baby was still an infant she got pregnant on accident. (That mini-pill!) So they have three now when they only wanted two, and the last two are only 15 months apart! Of course she loves all three, but it is a real challenge for her to manage them.
The questions could not escape me the whole lunch (I'm sure I was terribly melancholy and aloof company!) or for weeks after. The two friends with two living kids would have happily taken a third, but he came to the one who didn't want more.
Life rarely goes as planned, does it? It's meant to stretch us, isn't it?
(And when did I suddenly become adult with such real friends with such real trials?)
And how can I be a better friend? A real friend who actually helps carry their burdens?
And how can we love and cherish our lives and days when they didn't turn out the way we expected? When do you stop dreaming your old dream and just fall in love with your current reality?
Answering these questions could days days, books, lifetimes.
Back to the lunch - there's one more person at the table: me. I have three beautiful living boys, all of which were conceived pretty much as soon as we wanted. I am healthy enough and young enough to try for more if we want. Then the questions start again!
How did I get so lucky?
How can I live full enough, rich enough, happy enough, good enough to show my gratitude?
How can I remember every single day, and every single moment, even when my kid accidentally breaks my necklace, or intentionally hits his brother, or disobeys me in public (embarrassing!), that THESE ARE SPECIAL DAYS not to be lost to frustration or anger or Facebook or day-dreaming?
How can I know and FEEL deeper than ever how precious these souls are and how much what I say and how I treat them matters? It will shape their whole lives. And mine too.
Again, answers could go on for miles.
I try to tell my friends, hoping that it will help somehow with their grief, that their experiences make me want to do better with my life. I hope that's not offensive. Their lives matter to me and I mourn with them. They make me want to try harder, love more, and make more joy.
No comments:
Post a Comment