“Is this your first baby?” and inquisitive cashier innocently asks while peering at my 8 1/2 month pregnant belly as she rings me up. I pause before I answer as my stomach does a quick somersault in to my throat.
When I smile politely and say yes to try to abruptly end the conversation I feel like a liar.
When I smile politely and say no it’s my second I have a daughter at home I feel like a liar.
When I smile politely and say no this is my second child and try to leave it at that I feel like a liar.
Sometimes it is life’s most simple questions that require us to produce the most difficult answers.
What I really would love to say is that I am currently pregnant for the fourth time and with my second son. The baby in my body will be my second biological child born and my third child in total. My answer really should be : “oh no this is my third child. I have a 5 month old daughter and a son in heaven”, but who has the time to explain that to complete strangers?
I also feel there is so much shock value in that statement that it is almost this “drops mic walks away” kind of moment.
I so desperately want to honor all of my babies, but don’t feel the need to be an open book with every well-intentioned stranger that crosses my path on the daily.
Every time the question gets broached (which is increasing more and more as i get further along) I get more uneasy with how I answer. It is a constant and consistent reminder of the loss of my first child. I also wonder how deeply to delve in to my daughter’s adoption as it will one day be her story to tell and not mine.
Deep breath. Sigh.