Yesterday was spent sleeping late and lounging in advance of getting ready to go a wedding. The wedding was lovely in all the important ways - a bride and groom clearly in love, family and friends nearby in support, nice trappings (good food, good weather, lovely flowers, pretty dress) and it was surprisingly fun.
I get quite anxious about large gatherings and the only thing that pushed me out the door in the end was the fact that it's rude to back out on an rsvp like that. But we were glad we went - it was sort of a gathering of the best parts of my old job and a lot of people I have not had opportunity to see in some time.
Of course, that made it awkward as well. It was the two month mark since Gabriel was born and there were people who knew of it, people who knew or had heard I was pregnant but not the outcome of that pregnancy, and people who knew only that we had been hoping for children soon.
And little is more awkward than seeing an old acquaintance, chatting away, and trying to find a polite way to say that we were pregnant, but no longer, and that yes we did have a son, but he died. Not exactly standard wedding fare, you know? But how else are you supposed to respond when someone descends on you in a chorus of congratulations and inquiries as to the sex of the baby you are supposed to be carrying?
The number of people who expressed surprised delight that we were out and about were amusing. I mean, we don't go out much anyway, but we generally attend weddings. I guess people thought I was likely to be still too deep in mourning to leave the house? I've been back at work for six weeks now, a wedding with an open bar (no, I didn't partake, as alcohol does not mix with the anti-depressant I'm on) that I can leave at any time after congratulating the bride and groom isn't that big a deal, social anxiety and all.
It was nice to catch up, but there was a good deal of talk about Gabriel and his birth which I had not really anticipated. It was nice though, to see the concern and the care. Even the bride and groom stopped and asked how we were, how we really were and expressed their sympathies in person and remembered that it was two months to the day. I mean, my goodness. How much nicer and more kind can you be than to remember such a thing at your own wedding?
I was grateful we went. Grateful to see two people joined together, grateful to see old friends and catch up, grateful to hear my son mentioned, grateful to prove that we are doing ok, no, really, we are doing ok. See? And find that they did see.
Then home, bed. Where I stayed much of today, alternately re-reading a book I enjoyed last year and dozing, late into the afternoon. It meant I missed the football game, but that was fine by me. The pile of laundry rebukes me, but there is still plenty of time for a load or two and the rest will keep. It was a restful day, which I appreciate. Hopefully this week won't be quite so frantic and filled as the last, but if it is, at least I feel adequately rested.