Most of the time, I think I’m doing rather well out in public these days. There are the occasional baby sightings that make my heart hurt, and sometimes glowing pregnant women who make me wistful for those days again with Lucy safe in my belly, but overall, I can handle it. Usually. Until today.

Chris and I went to Costco around noon for some necessities, and on this particular Sunday (as usual) it was bustling. I did the usual avert of the eyes at the first couple of babies I saw, trying to find something else to look at instead, but all I saw were more babies. Babies in car seats, babies in carriers, babies in carts, babies in their mom or dad’s arms, babies surrounded by their multiple siblings… I suddenly realized there was nowhere safe to divert my attention to. I felt my ears getting hot, I started to sweat a bit, my pulse started racing, and it was an effort to breathe normally. I said aloud to Chris, “Oh my god, how are there so many of them in here?!” Every aisle we traveled down was filled with families and babies and pregnant women… Chris saw how I looked and asked me if I wanted to go to the car. I said, no, that I thought I could handle it. We kept shopping, making our way down each aisle. It wasn’t getting better. We were walking behind a very pregnant woman, and at the end of the aisle, she stopped to meet up with her husband and three other very healthy children. I guess that was the moment that did me in. Then all I could hear were the shrieks, giggles, squeals and cries of babies all around me, and it’s like everything suddenly just became distorted- sound, vision, everything. Chris handed me the car keys and said, “Go to the car. It’s okay. I’ll finish getting the rest. I love you, and I’ll see you in a few.” He became, once again, my knight in shining armor. I grabbed the keys, thanked him and bailed. As I made my way to the exit, I saw even more babies. I thought I was going to combust. Once I got to the safety of the car, I called my mom, she calmed me down and distracted me from losing my mind, and then I was better. I made it through the whole thing without totally breaking down, but it was touch and go there for a few minutes. When Chris got back to the car, he said that it seemed to get a lot worse in there after I left. He had a hard time with it too, but is better at managing the anxiety of it all than I often am.

Being a loss parent is damn hard. There are reminders of what we’ve lost everywhere we go. There’s no escaping it. It seems like maybe I’d get used to seeing those things constantly around me, and that maybe it’d get easier, but sometimes it’s just too much. I’m thankful to have such a caring, loving husband with such patience and understanding toward me. I don’t know what I’d do without him, or the other people in my support system… I owe my mom a huge thank you today too. She helped me back away from the edge of the emotional abyss. Knowing that our family and friends understand the difficulties we need to overcome and are there for us is truly comforting. For this, I am eternally thankful.