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Watermelon Welcome

October 3, 2014

Dot’s school had a “watermelon welcome” event for the kids and their families. N was working, but I was there, of course, and she had a great time showing me her many tricks on the climbers and slides while playing with her friends. There were lots of kids there, lots of kids with siblings. Lots of baby brothers and baby sisters. Do you see where this is going?

And I hid behind a tree because now I miss Teddy, who should have been there, teasing his little sister. And I miss the baby who will never be because I’m responsible and reasonably unselfish when it comes to making decisions for my family. I want that baby, whoever he or she might be. And I started crying at the damned watermelon table but didn’t want Dot (or anyone else) to see me.

Someone told me that I should just go ahead and try for another, that money stuff always works itself out. This, from my perspective, is a fairly privileged viewpoint. Of course you work it out and do what you have to do for a baby once that baby exists. Once that baby exists, their existence becomes a priority that other things – your career, your family’s movement toward financial stability, your lack of bankruptcy, your oldest (living) child’s chances of going to college – can be sacrificed to support. But our income is too high to qualify for any sort of assistance, and our debt is too high to allow for much savings or “discretionary income.” We wouldn’t be giving up trips to Hawaii or Friday nights at the steakhouse or gifts of fine jewelry. We already go meatless on more than Mondays, and we drive a small compact (to be paid off this coming summer!). So we’d be giving up Dot’s college fund, my credit rating, possibly my job and income, possibly N’s chances of finishing & defending his diss, possibly (because of stress and money and time) our marriage. It would work out, but the way it worked out would likely hurt people I love and for whom I’m responsible. So the person who told me that can…bite my budget spreadsheet.

I’ve tried not being bitter about this, but I am. I’ll get over it. It’s something I can get over, I think, not like losing Teddy. But it hurts, and I’m fed up with things that hurt. I want a cookie, and a warm cup of tea, and three wishes.

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