Have you ever been around a person whose sense of self-identity is so shaped by some particular past experience or personal hardship that they insist on bringing it into every single goddammed conversation? Anytime they're engaging in casual chit-chat with others, they preface their own comments with things like, "Well, when Harry and I were getting divorced ten years ago, I blah blah blah" or "back when I was in the Peace Corps, I blah blah blah." I can talk about that second one with some authority, since I've been in the Peace Corps myself, and I've been around those sixty-something folks who served in Ethiopia in 1968 and still can't stop talking about it to this very day.
The thing that's weird for me with this blog is that I really am not, nor do I want to be, the kind of gal who insists on bringing up my own KuKd status at every possible moment, connecting all of my current life experiences to my KuKd losses. And yet, isn't that what this blog is all about? And, aren't I the one who started this thing? And how do I honor my dead fetus and baby without being that person who can't let go and move on? I wonder if it's possible for me to find that balance between sharing my general musings about KuKd, without being the one at the cocktail party who's like:
"I love this Bombay and tonic! Back when I was pregnant with my son Zachary, WHO WAS STILLBORN, BY THE WAY, I never drank this stuff. Oh how I missed it!"
"Really? You've gained ten pounds? So have I, since MY SON WAS STILLBORN."
"No, we don't have kids. Actually, we do have a SON WHO WAS STILLBORN."
"I teach at a community college. Actually, I should really be on prolonged maternity leave right now, but MY SON WAS STILLBORN so I'm not."
A totally unrelated thought: Sarah Jessica Parker annoys me. I wonder if she irritates anyone else.