Mister Rogers Goes Down

Ever been sucker-punched? You know, when you are already feeling blue, have been praying for grace and strength all morning and then you are hit in the gut with something unexpected? Sometimes it’s a conversation that prompts nausea—actual physical nausea— it feels cruel and confusion rushes in. All you can do is attempt to finish the interaction with a smile so as not to be misunderstood as being rude; but you know that controlling those primal tears is out of the question. You can only smile for so long before you have to pleasantly excuse yourself, find a door to close and fall into the fetal position, fists to the floor. It’s the weariness of holding it together that is so exhausting; and when that surprise sucker-punch comes not even a calm and collected Mister Rogers could hold back the tears. 

This is my way of saying that I’m not trying to be rude to you or your baby. My changing the subject or walking away is merely self-preservation. It’s like a person who hasn’t eaten in a week being forced to watch a circle of friends nibble on Big Macs—at some point isn’t it acceptable to leave McDonalds without feeling like you’re being inappropriate? OK, bad example, but you get the point.

It’s not that I’m not happy for you—it’s that the hunger pangs are so deep. Working in Early Intervention certainly makes me more susceptible than the average waiting adoptive mother to the exposure of “baby” conversations. Some days I just want to work at Hot Topic or sell pickup trucks…anything far away from the non-stop subject of babies and children. But being with and discussing young children is what makes me tick, which is precisely why it is so hard to not wear a member’s jacket.

I share this not to evoke pity (please—there’s nothing worse than pity) or to ask you to avoid talking to me about things that are exciting and important to you (duh). I share this A) to be honest and B) to evoke a sense of understanding that I might not always be consistently enthusiastic... because some days I am a little more fragile than others. My reality is that I walk through most moments of my day genuinely very happy and content that God has me exactly where I am supposed to be. But today was a crummy day and this time around I just don’t want to go shopping for clothes for your baby with you, that’s all.