Today we went to a local buffet to celebrate Hubby's grandma's 88th birthday. When we first go there, there were some kids, but mostly teenagers. Then as more and more people arrived, so did the little children, and the bumps. I was okay until after we ate, when the visiting and present opening began.
We started talking about how many generations there were in Hubby's family; who has having what babies; how many kids everyone has. Hubby's niece came back to sit down holding a four-month old. At first, I was fine. I even helped put his shoe back on that had fallen off. I chucked his sweet little cheeks.
And then I heard it. MIL asking the baby's father, "I'll give you a thousand dollars and an unlimited supply of tacos for him." (Side note, Hubby's family owns and operates Mexican food restaurants here in town.) This isn't the first time, within my presense or earshot, MIL has asked someone to either have their kid or for that person to hurry up and have a baby so she will have a baby to dote on.
The first time I heard her say that to Hubby's SIL's sister, I just made a joking remark, "Yeah, 'cause she's not getting any from us anytime soon." This time, I just tried to catch his eye, indicating I wanted to leave. Finally, I was able to, we said our goodbyes to his grandma and others, and left. As soon as I got in the car I burst into tears.
"It's not fair. We can't have kids. Why does your mom have to say shit like that?" I could barely get the words out. I know she thinks she's being compassionate, but unfortunately she has fallen short way too often in the things she says. She's always going on about what God has in store for us, and that what will happen is His will. Yes, damn it, I know this but it doesn't make it any easier. Sometimes I want to say to her "STFU!"
I want to get mad. I want to rage against God, against life, against my body. But what good does it do? In the end, it doesn't change anything. It's not going to get me pregnant next month. It's not going to stop people from making inappropriate comments. It's not going to stop me from feeling or hurting.
After lunch Hubby and I went grocery shopping. I put away all the groceries, then took the frozen chicken down to the garage to put in the deep freeze. Just briefly, I thought about getting into the car, starting the engine, closing my eyes, and letting everything go.
I don't want to be like that. I want to be one of those happy people who I had lunch with today. The one who worries about making sure their kids are bundled up against the cold. The one who has to worry about day care versus staying at home.
I want but what good does it do?
