After yesterday’s disaster I woke up this morning feeling quite well, really. Of course I woke up mentally preparing myself for the baby shower, but I wasn’t dreading it or anything. I felt determination more than anything. I was going, and I was going to do fine. I left a little late, but figured getting there late wouldn’t be a horrible idea anyways. Honestly it went exactly as I expected it to – just fine.

I walked in and saw Den’s step-MIL and family sitting with some of our friends. I ended up just sitting there so I didn’t have to search the room (there were 60-ish people there, very large room) for the other side of the family. MIL found me, she gave me a hug and told me she was glad I made it. I told her I’d join their table after we ate. I felt that up and moving tables after I’d sat down would be rude… I mean, both tables had some of Den’s family.

Pregnant SIL did come up and give me a big hug. She looked really wonderful. A sad pang for me, but I had my shower so in a way I was remembering good times instead of thinking about what I won’t have.

We ate breakfast foods from a buffet, oh it was good. I love breakfasts! Step-MIL and the two girlfriends are all really nice and have been very understanding, so it was all very good. We all just chatted about random things. I was doing quite well until one of the friends started talking about her son (2 years old). This friend, well, she’s a nice enough person. I have found, however, that she is not someone I can stand being around when I am dealing with infertility or loss. I basically avoided contact during the latter half of my infertility to avoid idiotic comments, and I’m finding myself having to avoid her again now. It’s not that she’s intentionally mean… she’s simply completely emotionally clueless. She doesn’t “get” emotion. She started talking about her son yet again, involving long funny stories about the cutsies about little boys and how awesome sons are… etc. Uhh yeah. It’s just like, hello?? Remember me? Just lost my son, thanks.

But the timing was perfect, we had just finished eating, so I politely excused myself and went over to the other table where MIL was sitting. As I was heading over SIL’s mom (yes I know, there are too many moms and too many acronyms) saw me and jumped up from her table to give me a very tight hug and said she was glad I came. Then I sat and chatted with Den’s family a little bit about this and that.

Then SIL started opening presents. And that’s when it started getting hairy… just like I expected. My very first reaction when she pulled out some cutsie infant girl dresses was, Whew, it’s girl stuff. I have a lot easier time dealing with girl clothes. But after a couple of minutes and more cute outfits I started thinking about her baby and my baby and I knew that was my cue to hit the road. And you’ll be pleased to know I did excuse myself right then, I didn’t sit around waiting. I gave hugs and was quickly on my way.

MIL walked me to my car. When we were outside she said to me that she’s so proud of me and she loves me and that if she could she’d do anything to make this better… how very much she wishes she could take all the hurt away and somehow fix this. She said she knows that it will take a long time for us to stop hurting, that we will probably never stop hurting. We were both crying. The words fumbled here and there, but I knew exactly what she was trying to say. We hugged tightly and she sent me on my way with a, “Drive safe, okay?”

I am so incredibly thankful, so very thankful, for the family that we both have. Almost everyone has been so very supportive and understanding. Last night when I pulled out the invite for SIL’s baby shower I re-read what her mom had written in it. It said, paraphrased, “I’m sending this to you so as to not leave you out. We completely understand if you don’t come. No need to RSVP, just show up if you feel up to it.” And honestly I think that was just about perfect. If I hadn’t gotten an invite I probably would have felt left out; if I had gotten a normal invite I may have wondered if people expected me to be back to normal. But her handwritten note expressed exactly what I needed to hear. Den’s family has been right there for me, letting me know that they’re there to support me and that they understand if I can’t handle anything. Somehow they’ve managed to get just the right balance of normal conversation and including us in life without ever making it sound like they’re forgetting about Devin or the grief we face. And I know that is the reason I was able to go to this baby shower today. I was surrounded people who understood, who cared, and who didn’t mind crying with me. How much easier grief is when you don’t have to try to be something you’re not.

I’m a little sad that I didn’t get to see all SIL’s gifts, though. I’ll have to ask SIL if I can go over one evening and have her show me everything. Even if I cry, that’s okay. Sometimes crying is the only way to get through something… and crying and getting through it is a lot better than hiding from it forever.

I ended up coming home and working on Devin’s scrapbook all day. I worked on my baby shower photos. It was productive… a little sad for me to stare at the pregnant-me photos, I found myself drifting off in memory and just sort of… staring. Letting the sadness just flow through me like a stream. I didn’t fight it, I didn’t jump into it, I just… let it drift through as it wanted to. I thought about how everything of Devin’s, every memory, every trinket, will all fit into one scrapbook. There will be no pregnancy scrapbook, then first year, and so on. His whole life, in one book. And then it’s over.