Coping
“Expending conscious effort to solve personal and interpersonal problems, and seeking to master, minimise or tolerate stress or conflict.”
We are in a good place, I do believe that our coping mechanisms were effective, but casualties occurred.
We have received many children’s birthday party invitations over the years and I think I can safely say we only attended a few in the early days. Watching mothers fuss and gossip about the children, as they happily play pass the parcel is hard. Standing around as the fathers discuss life with kids, watching the excitement on their faces as they tell of the latest development is not easy or comfortable. Some did know of our situation, others didn’t and it was only a matter of time before someone asked the question, ‘How many kids do you have’.
You could almost hear those that knew gasp as they waited to see how the question was handled. There was always a pause as my conflicted mind would decide whether to answer truthfully and make the situation awkward or divert the conversation. In the end I would always give the truthful answer and in hindsight I think I did that on purpose, thinking in my own twisted way that I was getting some morbid satisfaction.
What these experiences did enforce, was we were different and by the behaviour of our friends and our own we perpetuated that difference.
It wasn’t long before the detachment we experienced became physical, we didn’t belong here, we were different and we began to graciously decline offers.
We also tried visiting our closest friends in hospital after the birth of their children, it was awkward. As my wife will tell you the most heart breaking thing for her is watching the new-born baby, rest in the arms of the mother. That innocent, beautiful new human being only knowing the touch and scent of their mother and as she looks down at what she has created, it hurt to know you would never experience that bond. There also came the time when the father would thrust this delicate package into my arms and I thought ‘I know you are proud and I am happy for you, but please please don’t do this for me’. But, I smiled and made all the appropriate sounds and of course we stopped attending hospitals.
It is now a source of comedy in our marriage, my wife reminds me of how scared I looked at that moment when that delicate package was thrust into my arms.
The casualties in this were two-fold, us and those that cared for us. We both recognise that we missed out on being included in the lives of our friends and their new families. We also recognise that we lost friends who didn’t quite understand our situation and saw our behaviour as ignorant or rude.
But we coped and I like to think we survived.
“Seek to understand and not to judge”
