i remember the other side

I run into Karen in the bathroom today. I cringe every time I run into her. It's not that I don't like Karen. It's actually that I really do. She is my colleague who has lost 3 babies. I try to suck my belly back in an inch or two. But there it is, standing proud and strong, suddenly 10 times bigger than it just was, completely unsuckable, taking up all the space between us like a giant elephant in the room.

Karen smiles and says hello and I say hello back. There's not much more to say. But beneath her smile I see the pain. I know her pain. I know what it's like to run into a belly like mine when your own belly is filled with nothing but loss. I know what it's like to hate my big belly. I know what it's like to hate me. And I don't blame her for it.

I expect my friend Laurie to hate me too. She is the one who recently lost her baby at 31 weeks. But she surprises me today. I know her due date is approaching and I've been racking my brain on how to handle it. Send her flowers? A card? A phone call? I want to do something to let her know I'm thinking of her but there never seems to be a right thing to do. So I send her an email and I just tell her I'm thinking of her. When in doubt, go simple.

Get this. She emails me back and asks when my baby shower is. She says she really wants to come. This, of course, means the world to me. Not so much for my own benefit but because it's proof that my friend really is going to be ok. I had been debating about whether or not to put her on the list. How could I possibly throw my celebration in her face like that after all that she's been through? And then here she is, asking to be invited. Stronger than I had given her credit for. Possibly still hating me but big enough to swallow it down. And in reality, not really hating me at all.

Losing something does a lot of things to a person. Creating "bigness" seems to be one of them.