Chatting with strangers while out of town by myself is usually pretty interesting.  I meet some great people and have some interesting conversations.  Until they ask me about my life.  Everyone that knows me knows I am honest.  I am open.  I say what I am feeling.  But there are some common questions that turn the conversation quickly south... Do you have children?  How many kids do you have?  You mentioned a 5 year old, do you have any others? 

And so ensues a conversation that I didn't intend.  I answer lighthearted, trying to keep the conversation light.  Oh, um, I have an 18 month old son that went to Heaven last year.... I have another child that lives in Heaven.... I have two, a 5 yr old son and an 18 month old that lives in Heaven.... by the way, wasnt that a great presentation by.... ?

Despite my efforts to keep the conversation light it changes.  It starts with a change in the eyes.  Dispair.  Pity. Sorrow.  It is usually accompanied by a visible muscle movement in the jaw.  It clenches, or moves, indicating discomfort.  Or trying to get emotions under control.  And then the obligatory "I'm so sorry".  I never know how to respond to "I'm sorry".  No response seems appropriate.  "Umm, it's ok", well, it's not.  "Don't worry about it", that seems odd.  "Thanks"... thanks for what?  Sympathy?  I don't want sympathy.  I would rather someone just say "That's terrible! What happened?".  Following it with a question I can actually answer is much better.  I know how to answer questions.  I don't know how to respond to 'I'm sorry'.

Tonight, I had one of these conversations.  In addition to child loss we also talked about the other changes that happened around the same time... I started my PhD program shortly before, we moved to a new house, I was on medical disability for PTSD and ended up accepting a new job, our washer flooded our new house causing extensive damage and work about two months after moving in... lots of changes.  Lots of work.  Lots to deal with.  And somehow... somehow... the conversation continued with a discussion about surgery on Tuesday and then infertility.  It may sound like the conversation was all gloomy and depressing but it really wasn't.  It was ok.  Ok, until the final comment.  While leaving, the final comment was... "It was so nice meeting you and talking with you.  You really put my life into perspective and made me realize my life is perfect."  I'm glad.  I am happy I could help someone else feel better about their life.  But it made me question my own.  My life sucks, but not all the time.  There is lots of happy, lots of good times, lots of accomplishment, forward movement, and good days.  But when someone indicates my life is so bad it helps make others feel their life is perfect it kind of lets me know how my life sounds to others. 

When asked, I cannot leave Jayce out when I answer how many children I have.  When asked about my life, child loss is part of it.  It's a big part of who I am now, so it naturally comes up in conversation.  I don't want to apologize for bringing it up.  And I don't want to feel bad for bringing someone else down.  Usually I am able to steer the conversation back to positive by saying things like "I cant believe I have made it through the past year but here I am and I am looking forward to embracing the next year.  So, tell me about your family."  I try.  I really do, to steer it back to positive.  It doesn't always work.  I hope that through my story, it inspires someone else to embrace their life and focus on all the positive in it.  Because if I can find positive after the struggles and loss we have been faced with, certainly most other families can find something positive in theirs.