My annoyance for strollers keeps growing. Strollers are unavoidable lately; I live in a beautiful, walkable city, we live by a few parks, and it's summer. The perfect equation for the ever-dreaded Stroller Parade. So, I've had to sort of deal with them, and by that I mean: averting my eyes every time I see one.
I went to the farmer's market today, and was once again bombarded by baby strollers. At one point, I found myself cornered by two strollers, and a couple of New Moms. (You know how crowded it gets at the vegetable stand). They didn't hear my initial "Excuse me", because as soon as the words left my mouth, one of the New Moms exclaimed, "I'm pregnant again!!" Underneath my sunglasses, I rolled my eyes. The hug and the squeals created an impenetrable barrier. "Ok," I thought, "don't panic." I took a deep breath, and instead of elbowing my way past the huggers (tempting) I just stood there for a minute. There were two babies, one in each stroller. I didn't pay much attention to the year-old girl; but the infant boy caught my eye. I looked him straight in the face, fully aware that I haven't looked a baby that closely since Beau died. He looked back. I studied him. My immediate thought was, "Now, why do YOU get to be here, and Beau doesn't? What makes YOU so special?" He kicked his chubby feet and blew spit bubbles. My heart literally ached, and suddenly I felt dizzy. That was enough. My next "Excuse me" was louder - they heard me that time. I quickly walked away, tears streaming down my face, until I got in the car, where my tears escaped into a sob.
I don't wish this pain on anybody. I don't want to be spiteful, resentful, bitter - that's not the real me. But this grief is a selfish beast - it sinks its teeth in and doesn't let go until it damn well pleases. I hate the whole process. I hate everything about losing Beau. I hate that I have a physical reaction to babies now. I hate everything that is a reminder of what I lost. And although the rage eventually subsides, it's still intense, and it's still unpredictable. But the sadness, the longing, that's always there.
I have a feeling I will never receive an acceptable answer for "Why". Why Beau specifically, why can't I have him, why did he have to die, why did this have to happen to us, why do we have to endure this, why. At first I was comforted by the thought that he might be an angel in heaven, but now I shake my head....he's just not here. And I can kick and scream and cry all I want, but he's still gone. Which means he's not in a stroller, blowing spit bubbles, going with me to the farmer's market. And it's not fair. I don't want an angel; I want my baby.