Bomb dropping during fondue

Last night I met some ladies from church (80% of whom I have known for several years) out for fondue. As usual, the couple of days before our outing, I was filled with mostly mild anxiety about it. I actually considered backing out at the last minute and then finally reassured myself that everything would be fine, and that I should make an attempt to be social.

There were about 12 of us sitting around a long-ish table with 4 pots of cheese... and ultimately chocolate. Somehow, I ended up sitting near two young, newly married women, both of whom I'd never met. Wouldn't you know, the conversation somehow veered to "those women who don't even know they are pregnant until they have their baby" and "golly gee, some women say that pregnancy and birth are so awful and others say it's a breeze" and "it would just really stink to be pregnant in the summer - I better plan for that". By the time we were in the thick of this miserable conversation, I was avoiding it at all costs -- reading my blackberry as if several new and exciting emails had just come in. I was stuck... mainly as a result of my non-strategic seating selection upon arriving at our table. Then, one of the curious young ladies starts asking a couple of us about our experience(s) as it relates to pregnancy and birth. The woman across the table, who knows me and knows of both of my boys, looked at me with a pained look and then answered for herself, keeping her response relatively short and sweet. Even with all of my dodging and extremely rude blackberry usage, the young woman then posed the question to me. Taking in a deep breath, I dropped my bomb. I told her/them that I actually have 2 boys -- 2 pregnancies and 2 births -- and that B.W. died (was born still) in 2006. I think I did an decent job of keeping it together and then answered their extremely naive and somewhat insensitive follow-up questions (you might know the kind I'm talking about here). In the course of the exchange, one of them said she was sorry. The other changed the subject. And then they were all laughing and having fun again. My heart was racing, my blood boiling and I wanted to leave the table and run for my car. This is one of the many examples, that I seem to face on a regular basis, which make me want to hibernate and avoid all social gatherings and groups.

I won't even write here what I wanted to say in response to the original question or to the ridiculous line of questioning I faced when they learned of my dead son. I was glad to leave, emotionally exhausted, end of story. Good thing the food was nice and the martini was scrumptious. I would not have made it through otherwise.

I have almost no memory of my former self. Please tell me I was not as naive, presumptuous and self-righteous as these ladies. It's hard to accept that I must now live in a world filled with so many of them.

Three liner

As I was perusing my e-files today, I came across several poems I have saved over the past two and 1/2 years, after B.W.'s death. I don't remember where I found this one, but I really love it. So simple and so much truth in each word.

Separation by W. S. Merwin

Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.