This was a convo from way back near the beginning of summer... but it stuck.
"I hear you're pregnant with your third. Congrats." - a person who should have very well known that Maisie died. "Yes, well my fourth actually, but thanks." - me I was pretty proud of myself in the moment for having that response. Simple, straight, corrective, polite. The party where this exchange happened had already taken an emotional drain on me... there were several new babies there, it still was at the time where acting like everything was OK for an extended length of time felt phony and icky, and no one really asked me about Maisie. By the end of that party I remember feeling very emotionally exhausted and just got quiet and separated myself from everyone... But on top of that, it really bugged me that the mom of one of my husbands really close friend's said the above statement to me. As I said, I would assume she should have known what happened. If she didn't, therein lies another whole issue. And "third" is just the wrong number. This is my fourth baby. Maisie is my third, no one else gets that number. Contrast this with a WAY better interaction of someone last weekend asking at church how I've feeling with baby #4. That was perfect and meaningful. And not to mention just straight up the correct number.
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AuthorMother. Jesus Lover. Mourner of my stillborn Maisie Martha Ofsthun. Archives
October 2021
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