Bathroom encounter

It is a half-mile walk from the garage at my work to my office and I’m on the second floor of my building.  After the doctor advised me to “restrict my activity” to due a short cervix measurement while pregnant with Quinn, I took the shuttle bus up to my office.  I then took the elevator to my office on the second floor.  I got to know my elevator-mates very well as there was no bathroom on my floor and I had to take the elevator to another floor quite often.  I frequently ran into the same people during my shuttle and elevator escapades.  These acquaintances met me when my belly was just starting to pop out and they watched it grow until I left for maternity leave.  They were there to let me on the bus first or hold the door for me when I walked into my building.  I didn’t know them aside from my shuttle and elevator rituals, but they were so kind. 

Now un-pregnant, I look forward to the half-mile walk to my office and the treks up and down stairs to the bathroom.  Today, I went down to the first floor to find the bathrooms all occupied so I welcomed the opportunity to bounce up to the 3^rd floor.  I entered, and both stalls were in use.  A moment later, a woman exits a stall.  We make eye contact and I recognize her – it’s one of my shuttle and elevator buddies.  The last time I saw her, we were on the elevator and she was congratulating me on my forthcoming bundle of joy and wishing me well on maternity leave. 

In the split second before we spoke, I searched her face to see if she knew.  I could instantly tell by the joyous and hopeful expression on her face that she didn’t.  I am so used to look of knowing – the pursed lips, tilted head, and big eyes.  It’s the look that they know.  Her innocent and joyful face was so refreshing.  It gave me a moment of clarity and for that second I relished in the “what should have been” feeling.  Then I heard the words.  “How’s the baby?!”  Her eyebrows were raised, her eyes were sparkly, and her smile was brimming. 

I rehearsed this a thousand times in my head.  I predicted this encounter and I was waiting for it to happen.  However, I didn’t think it would happen in the unfortunate location of a cramped bathroom stall with someone eavesdropping in the other stall.  My heart thudded and I could hear the blood passing through my ears.  What should I say?  This wasn’t an appropriate place…and someone else was listening.  “Well, actually…she passed away.”  There.  I said it.  How could I not?  Her face dropped.  I literally saw all the hope and joy drain away from her face.  Her eyebrows flattened and her mouth pursued.  Yes, that’s better…that’s the look I’m so used to seeing.  I could tell she immediately regretted asking the question.  My response was not fair to her.  She was being kind and I shattered her.  She stuttered “sorry” and immediately changed the subject.  It’s funny that no one ever asks me how she died.  Ever.  I wish they did because then they would know her better.

Oh how I wish her question had a different answer.  How I wish I didn’t need to cause her the regret of asking such an innocent question and create the subsequent awkwardness.  I entered the stall and proceeded very slowly to see if the person next to me would come out first.  However, she hid in her stall until I left.  I don’t blame her.  I would have probably done the same thing.  Who wouldn’t avoid this encounter?  I left the bathroom exhausted by the emotional roller-coaster of the last 3 minutes.  I felt as though I had the wind knocked out of me and I needed to catch my breath. 

This is my story.  I have two daughters: one alive and one dead.  If you are brave enough to ask about me then I hope you are brave enough to hear the answer.