Yesterday, at Abby's "Play Class," I was having a conversation with the other mothers around the rice table (it's a sand table with rice substituted for the sand). The fact that I was engaging in conversation with ladies I don't know was in itself a step outside of myself.
We were commenting on the ages of our children and what sizes they wore.
Mother #1: My daughter just turned two but she's no longer fitting in the 2Ts.
Mother #2: My daughter's the same way.
Me: Abby just turned 3 and she wears 24 month size.
We kept talking for a few more minutes on this subject.
But soon it turned to birth weights. One commented that her first one was big and the second was bigger. I heard the other say, "Susie was 11.5 pounds but she just popped right out." The conversation continued on to include epidurals and other child birth experiences.
And I wonder if they even noticed that I had stopped talking.
I'm not really sure what to do in those situations. I obviously have no experience with pregnancy and delivery. Before Abby, these conversations would have depressed me.
It did cause me to stop and think about my response - or lack of response.
I am not usually interested to hear of a childbirth story because I have nothing to relate it to in my own life. Nor do I have the hope (anymore) of that experience happening in my life. Dwelling on these things tend to get me down. It's as if I have not had this "right of passage" into womanhood and am therefore disqualified because of it. I guess I am still dealing with this "loss" in my life.
But I AM a mom, and that should count for something. Right?
I guess I could have told the ladies that I WISH I would have had an epidural or other powerful drug to get me through 14 hours in a plane (both ways) to "deliver" my baby. And how we endured culture shock and weird food. And had an 11 month old baby who was so distraut over the whole experience that she cried a lot and wouldn't eat.
But they probably don't want to hear about it cause their experience isn't relative to mine.
I'm still wrestling with this. I don't have the answers, yet. My heart is still healing.