Wednesday, June 22, 2011

How I ruined my sons birthday and other tales.

Actually there are no other tales, just the one that will now forever haunt me and piss me off at myself.

Blair had a birthday party. Yep, he's a elderly 1 year old. Fun was had by all. Until...the incident.

Obviously, our friends know about the whole dead baby thing. Not really a secret, in case you didn't realize it. Shit, 10 minutes before the incident, we'd talked about Adam's getting his vasectomy reversed, which everyone knows the reason for. I'd just got out of the pool myself and was sitting on the deck, making random amusing small talk. One guy mentioned that his new apartment had baby diapers thrown out the window on the lower roof. Jokes were made about how he could show everyone around and mention "and here are the dirty old diapers." Then...then I heard it.

"At least it's not a bunch of dead babies."

I heard where it came from. I knew the voice. I turned to that person and asked, "what did you say?" She stumbled on her words before finally pointing towards the diaper apartment guy and said, "he said it." I sat there. I looked straight ahead. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to have a hysterical melt down. I wasn't going to do it. I heard Adam say something about how the dead baby subject wasn't cool, to paraphrase.

But I felt it coming, so I stood up and left the deck. I made it inside before the tears started. Made it upstairs before the complete hysterics started. And there, in the bathroom, I had my hysterical melt down. Wish I could say that it was the first time, but I've had many meltdowns there over Joel. It's, sadly, the most common place.

I hear people walking around downstairs, going out the front door. I assumed, and was right, that they were smoking. Adam came in after a couple minutes and called up, I told him I didn't want to talk to him or anyone, which I didn't. I wanted to be left alone so I could have my meltdown. Adam said "everyone feels really sorry about it" to which I screamed out "Good! Everyone fucking should feel fucking awful about it!" As loud as I shrieked it, I'm sure people could hear. I was looking for clothes at the time to change out of my swim suit, so I was in our bedroom, which has the window like 15 feet from the deck. Fuuuun.

I calmed down after a few minutes. I changed. I'd hoped I could finish my cooling down alone downstairs, so I went downstairs...perfectly timed to see everyone basically walking in the dining room door in a neat, shameful line. I wasn't really ready to see one person, much less 10. But hey, what can you do? I start just picking some stuff up to throw away to avoid eye contact for a couple more minutes. One guy Adam use to work with, who apparently said something after the initial comment that I didn't even hear because it was during the point where I was trying to not cry, apologized. I didn't even hear him outside and I really still wasn't prepared to talk about it, so the tears suddenly came again and I said I didn't want to talk about it. I turned and went into the kitchen to throw stuff away, and as I turned around I see the parade of people making their way through my dining room and out the front door. Adam tells me something along the lines that everyone is leaving because I was upset. That upset me even more, because not only do I feel like an ass because I just had to hide myself in the house to chill out, but now this is how the day was going to end. My emotional melt down and everyone leaving the house all together suddenly. I exchanged words with Adam, thinking he told people to leave or something.

Fast forward a couple minutes and it turns out people were just going out to smoke, Adam had said bye assuming they were leaving, which confused everyone I guess. Or maybe Adam begged them to come back inside so his wife wouldn't feel more like shit than before. Who cares, they did. We ended up making balloon animals. Seriously!

But I got a couple hugs. More apologizes. Offers to allow me to yell at people. Things were OK. So, finally, I wanted to know what the fuck happened. So I asked. I asked who said what, because I was confused. I'd heard the one person say what I wrote above, but she'd blamed someone else. I didn't think he would say that, plus I was sitting closer to him so I know I didn't hear him say it. So I got the run down. The chick who I thought said it first did in fact say it first. Diaper apartment guy did follow up saying something about it was good that it wasn't dead babies, which I kinda heard but didn't process. Guy who Adam had worked with followed up with, "If it were babies maybe someone would have cleaned it up" or something along those lines.

So I looked around. We were missing someone. We were missing the chick who said it first. I asked where she was. She flew the coop fast. That annoyed me because how the fuck do you not wait around to talk to someone? I figured I'd get an email, text, or something. Adam told me that after I'd gone inside, she flat out admitted that she said it and shouldn't have. She told them all what she said, didn't deny it. She said it. So I was waiting for my message, the message I'd get expressing regret or something else that I could accept and move on without leaving so much hurt behind and a bad memory on the stain of Blair's party.

And I did get a message. From my other friend. My friend who just met this chick. My friend who apparently received chat messages from dead baby chick right after she got home. So instead of sending me anything, she searches my friends list and tells her version of the story to a total 3rd party. Says she never said anything. Says she tried to apologize. Blames diaper apartment guy again, saying he said it and she hadn't.

I stew. But it gets worse.

Again, I'm contacted by another totally random person who is told about the entire incident from this chick. Now I'm really upset. It's bad enough I have to live with it and knowing that everyone is going to remember me having my melt down, but now having other random people who didn't even know about it or need to know about it just made it worse. It killed me that this person was talking about it...but to anyone but us. Finally, I told Adam to please send her a message and tell her to stop talking about it to people. And he did. And she replied. Replied with, again, saying she never said anything to upset me. And this time even added on to the story that she was told to leave right after it happened and she did against her better judgement. Then added that it was nice getting to know us and wishing us luck in our future endeavors.

OK, that very last part was added for humor sake, but it might as well have said it.

And that was that. Someone we considered a friend said something totally awful. And even if by some chance it was a total misunderstanding of what she said or what she thought someone else said, it doesn't matter. Because flaking out when you owe someone an apology is lame. Convincing yourself you were in the right shouldn't be more important than making sure the person who is upset and hurt, even if it were during the course of a misunderstanding, knows that it wasn't intended and that you're sorry.

But...I'll never have that.

So while the wound of what happened that day would have always been there...it didn't have to be so apparent. So sore. Such a huge fucking scar. It could have healed nicely with just a couple words. But it didn't. So the wound is healing as a huge ass scar and we lost a friend.

Of course now I get to be Adam's wife, the crying hostess. Not sure how fun my parties will be from here on out with that title. I liked it better when I was just his bitchy wife. So now I'll just have to be a huge bitch to win that title back.

I'm up for the challenge.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

My baby is old.

Blair is officially a year old.

We had a cookout with friends & family (the ones I've not totally alienated by my bluntness). And a rainbow cake, made by yours truly. A 14 inch, 6 layer cake.

It was a good time (but be sure to scroll down for the quick not so good time mention).

Click here to view these pictures larger



Of course, shit can't always go well. Stay tuned for the story about how my rainbow babys party ended up being interrupted by a DB joke. Seriously.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Stuff.

So the days came and went. The death date and the birthdate. It was hard. It sucked. People who didn't last year actually remembered. Of course disappointment continues when some people didn't. Can't ever be perfect. If things were perfect, I wouldn't be talking about my kid dying.

Yep, still hurts. Nope, never thinking it will end.

Getting through it. That's about all.

Planning a birthday party for Blair now. Well, we've been planning it. But actually moving forward. A week from now my baybee will be one. He's walking like a pro. It kinda makes me cry. He's a real by now.

I just wish all of my boys got the chance to be real boys.

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