I Lie

Sometimes, I sit in church and watch the babies play. I'm not at a stage where I'm particularly bitter at their parents for subjecting me to the presence of babies, no. I simply sit there, watching and trying to let myself enjoy them.

One such Sunday not long ago, one such little person was bouncing on his mother's lap and I watched, softly giggling at his attempt to consume a long string bean he'd gotten his hands on. He kept squishing it between his gums and then pulling it out to observe the damage. The woman next to me noticed too. She leaned over and in a low voice asked me, "Sister, do you have a baby?"

She wasn't asking for my entire backstory, and to be frank, I didn't want to mortify this lovely woman who barely interacts with anyone at church by going off on her, getting offended, or going completely silent. She only speaks to me, and only sometimes, because I can speak her native tongue, and even then she usually only turns to me when she's confused about an announcement that she didn't understand well. She didn't need to know about my loss, and I don't even know the Spanish word for miscarriage. Not to mention the class was starting and I didn't want to be rude.

So there was only one answer to give her in the moment: "No."

I don't like this kind of lie. The lie that allows everyone around me to move forward like nothing has happened. The lie that left me sitting there feeling guilty that I didn't tell her about my baby or my whole, messy life story. That made me feel like I betrayed my baby. But I also didn't want to inflict my pain on her.

Sidebar: I think this is a common sentiment in the miscarriage and infertility communities. We don't want to force anyone else to feel our pain (we have all felt it plenty, thankyouverymuch), even though sometimes sharing the pain is the only way we survive it.

Then again, it's not my responsibility to be completely upfront about my entire life story with every human who crosses my path every day. If I had to talk about how I lost baby A every day for the rest of my life, I may not ever be able to think straight. I do still think about him every day though. Especially now. It's easy to remember that one year ago right now I was pregnant and already planning on returning to teaching this year, wondering how daycare would work out and what it would be like to be a working mother.

But here we are instead. I can't and don't expect everyone to carry this burden with me. I don't even expect anyone to read this. I just needed to put it out there.

Sometimes, I lie. I have to.