Just when I think it's safe to go back on Facebook. I've "unsubscribed" to anyone known to have a new baby or progressing pregnancy. I've unsubscribed to women of child-bearing age who may or may not be married and may or may not find themselves pregnant.
And then some GUY posts his wife's 20-week ultrasound picture. Or says something like, "I know the sex, but Wifey doesn't. Should I tell?" And invariably these same guys show two small children in their profile pic. And I just can't help hoping that one of these babies will not make it! I am a horrible human being! I say I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy--and then I secretly wish it on some half-friend I once knew and once bothered to "friend."
At the same time I know two people--one half-friend I once knew, and one real friend--who lost a younger brother last week. And they both seem to be finding solace in their FB communities. So I feel a sort of obligation to be present there, to be there for them. And the fact is, I kind of like having returned to FB-land. And talking about non-kids things. Talking about myself. I went to Craft Night at a friend's house a few weekends ago and I must have been the only "childless" woman there. All they did was talk about their kids. And I guess I was just supposed to chime in with my own anecdotes, because nobody asked me any questions. Eventually I left my blue star watercolor to dry in the basement and went upstairs to talk to the host's husband.
. . .
It's been seven months since Blue was born. Seven months! Exactly today, March 10. It still feels a lot like two steps forward, one step back. Actually in the beginning it was more like one step forward, three steps back. Which felt like progress anyway. My relationships with my sister and sister-in-law remain strained, though I'd be surprised if either one of them has noticed. My relationships with my brother and brother-in-law are close to non-existent, but not much is different there. I don't really feel left out because I realize how much better I am doing without thinking about them and the ways they have avoided my pain. Because when I do think about it, it hurts all over again.
Today my dad asked me how I feel about my sister-in-law's pregnancy. Today. I've know about it for two months. He's known about it for one month. Thanks, I guess. There is more to the story about my sister-in-law, her pregnancy, and how she didn't talk about it with me, even after she knew that I knew. Her (lack of) words/actions were hurtful, insensitive, but not necessarily unforgivable. I will get over it. I guess.
. . .
Tomorrow is the last day of snowboarding at the mountain where I work. I am so grateful for the work, for the opportunity to meet the people I met, to have spent my time outside, engaged in physical work. I am not sad. Instead I look forward to seeing my co-workers again, at one's minor-league soccer game, at another's wolf sanctuary, and many others next year on the snow.
As one thing ends, another begins. The metaphor is so obvious, there is nothing more to say.