or is it thee?

i think it’s thou.

i never liked old english anyway.

but why can’t i sleep?!  it’s frustrating b/c i’m tired, but this mind of mine…just going and going this morning.  so early in the morning…dark, rainy and windy outside.  and i’m tired.  grumpy too. 

but i do have a juicy story to tell…which is part of why i can’t sleep.  i keep thinking about it.

it’s probably going to be a long one and i know that sometimes i just love drama for the sake of drama, so i apologize in advance if this seems annoying and petty.  but obviously it doesn’t feel petty to me…it feels big and stirs many feelings for me.  feelings i’ve been carrying around for a long time now.

my office mate contacted me the other day to let me know i’d had a package arrive that looked like a personal package…maybe for the baby! she said.  i thought that was strange, but i’ve received personal packages there before, so i didn’t think too much of it.  then my other office mate called to let me know about the pkg, too.  he obviously didn’t know i’d already been told and he gave me a bit of info on my voicemail that was news to me…he told me where the return address was from…he got the name wrong (so i didn’t recognize it), but when i heard the location i became intrigued.

i only know two people/families in that city.  one is my favorite little maddie’s fam.  i am in touch with them; just spent the day with them last friday.  they know my home address and don’t send things to my office.  the other is someone i haven’t spoken to in two years.  our friendship blew up in a major way mere weeks after my first miscarriage.  we’ve had literally no contact; couldn’t be from her.  that would be too wierd.

my huz and i drove up to the office so i could put this mystery to rest.  i didn’t mention it to him…just that there was a package and would he mind driving up there with me…driving/sitting in the car is increasingly uncomfortable for me…in fact, i am beginning to dread it completely.  anyway, i got to my office, found the package and my inklings were confirmed.

small package out of the blue from ex-friend.

how did we become estranged?  well, it’s painful to talk about even still.  long story short (except it’s still a long story)…we both found out we were pregnant the same weekend just over two years ago.  i told; she didn’t.  that’s her prerogative, i know.  i miscarried; she didn’t.  although when i miscarried i had no idea that she was pregnant.  she did call me however and asked me all kinds of details about miscarrying and i didn’t quite compute at the time how odd they were…asking my symptoms in detail, etc.  i guess i was still in shock that i miscarried at all and wanted to talk about it to try to make sense of what’d just happened to me the day before.  a couple of weeks later, she and her husband invited us to meet them at a nearby coffee shop…i remember telling my huz when they texted the invite saying they “had an earful for us” that i wondered if she was pregnant and how would i feel about that and how would i not start crying when they told us…my anxiety was already high just anticipating the conversation.

yes, indeed, they had an earful for us.  and if i’d been in my right mind, less traumatized, i’d have certainly had an earful for them right back.  there we sat in that public place while they announced they were having a baby, with smiles and all…never acknowledging that our pregnancy had just spontaneously ended mere weeks before.  i tried really hard (too hard) to look excited and sound interested.  at one point i found the words to ask when she was due…

i obviously knew our due dates would be close, but i never anticipated hearing her say she was due the day after i would have been.  one day.  we were pregnant practically to the day.  but i wasn’t anymore.  agony.  especially since she immediately followed up with, “we found out on president’s day weekend (the same weekend as we did), but we’d already decided we weren’t going to tell anyone–not even our parents–until we were safely out of the first trimester.  you’re the first people we’ve told after telling our parents.”

well, thank you for that honor.  you might have considered acknowledging our loss.  or mentioning how awkward and painful this news must be for us…or considering what it would be like for me to watch your body develop and swell with your baby’s growth at the exact rate mine should have been.  but now it’s not.  and how in the hell am i supposed to manage all these feelings on my own between us? 

i was hurt and horrified and how could someone be that insensitive….but honestly, it didn’t stop there.  they said many thoughtless things that day…but one more that really stands out to me was when she said, “i don’t know if you were like this when you were pregnant…blah, blah, blah.”  and she went on to talk about how hungry she was, etc.  when i was pregnant?  oh you mean for the three weeks i knew i was pregnant before i awoke to a bloody nightmare?  hmmm, let me think…

now, my huz and i have different experiences and reactions to this incident.  he was more interested in salvaging the connection with the husband of the other couple.  i was more interested in never seeing or speaking to them again…i felt so hurt and so betrayed…by my body, by them, by everyone and everything…just raw and vulnerable and jealous and angry and blech.  how could i possibly find the words or courage to communicate what that experience was like with someone i found to be so thoughtless in such a grievous time?  especially when all i wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die.

so, that was basically that.  one more email contact.  no communication since then.  and it’ll be two years next week since that coffee shop debacle.  i miss her sometimes, but i don’t miss all the unspoken, hurt feelings i held in all those years we were friends which ultimately led to such a supreme explosion…might i say, it’s never helpful to keep all that stuff in b/c it only grows.  i should have told her many times how i’d been feeling about certain interactions we’d had, but i far more often than not kept quiet about my feelings to her and instead vented to my huz.  not a good idea.  those are the makings of explosions.

fast forward two years to yesterday.  there i see her handwriting on this package.  oh my.  what could be inside?  how will i respond?  does this mean i’ll have to respond?  but i don’t want to open that door again…oh my.  so, my huz said to stop acting like a nuclear bomb went off and just open it.  what did it matter?  i’d never know till i opened it…

so i did.  and it was more peculiar and stirred up more feelings in me than i could have guessed.

she sent a small box of hand-me-down girl clothes/shoes and a hat, plus returned a book i’d loaned to her so long ago i forgot i ever did.  now this takes thoughtless to a whole new level for me.  she sent clothes her baby who was born at some point right around the time my first would have been born.  this is so odd to me.  further, we’ve never talked about me starting my private practice or having office space at that location; nor have we spoken about me being pregnant or me having a girl…my huz hasn’t been in contact with her husband since well before we had knowledge of this baby either.  obviously she heard it through the grapevine…

i feel intruded upon.  in the strangest way.  and while there were hand-me-downs and a book in the box, there was no note.  nothing.  just the things.  so of course i’m feeling all these feelings…having that scab ripped off again…trying to think she probably meant to be kind by sending those little outfits and things…but no note?  nothing of her to respond to;  nothing to explain her thought process around why she sent these things?  why now?

well, this ignited an argument between my huz and me…he always defends the underdog, so that means if i’m angry with anyone, he takes up for them (i’m still hurt by our argument so that’s why i’m using concrete language here…”he always..”).  needless to say, we didn’t get very far in talking about what it was like for me to open this stupid package.  and now i’m feeling torn about how to respond…do i want to respond?…what would i say…

and this is why i can’t sleep.  b/c i’m feeling all those ugly, intense feelings all over again.  i’m torn b/c i don’t like the fact that i just cut her out of my life…another relationship bites the dust…but i can’t deny the relief i feel at not having the toxicity that was unspoken between us long before our final explosion.  so i keep mulling it all around in my mind…how to respond?

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