Alighting on Pluto

We've made it. I have been looking to this time with such anticipation, such joy, such hope! I could hardly wait for it, ached for it, yearned and pined. Our dream home? A trip to outer space? A month-long childless cruise? Wrong, wrong and-- way wrong. We have officially landed on planet Pluto-- or is it not a planet? Either way, it's a strange to new world, where no one has gone before (sorry for the Trekky quote. Please note the usage of no ONE as opposed to no MAN, only because I prefer Patrick Stewart and the Next Generation to the original series, not because I'm against the general application of "man" to all of humankind). No, many have gone this course, and many have done it recently, just before me.

Why?

We are having a baby.

Not just a baby, but a fifth baby. Oh no! Bring out the psychiatrists! The straight jacket! Some one get those two a tv!

When our fourth was born (and I mean fourth living child) I usually referred the gap-jawed naysayers to my previous two miscarriages, how devastating they were, and how subsequently ecstatic we were to be most of the way through a healthy pregnancy. That shut them up pretty quickly. However, my two dear little souls in Heaven are not as easy a help now as they were then. (at least, not as directly- pray for me, dear little ones!)

Now, people are not quite so subtle in their commentary (as if I asked them their opinions on my family). It used to be simply "you must be busy". I found my favorite response was (big smile) "We like it that way."

Now, take this morning as an example. Children #1 and 2 were playing on the nearby playground, thus, no obvious, immediate connection to moi. Child #3 was in swim class, and #4 was with me watching. A mother's  child next to us noticed #3's shirt that said "I'M the big sister" and said he was a big brother. The woman then asked me when I was due- I told her and then showed her the ultrasound picture that I carry with me. She asked (trying to clarify) "so, is this number 3? I responded "Number 5", beaming. Silence. Big intake of breath. "Wow". Silence. "you Must be busy." I smiled "always something to do!"

This was still rather restrained. Yesterday, however, I did not meet such restraint. My poor, dear children endured an hour in the craft store, in the late afternoon, on a hot yet still beautiful day. Understandably, they were quite antsy by the time we reached the checkout. No one and nothing was in danger of breakage. But they were squirmy. Age 8 down to 2, all itching to get. out. of. there. Me too. When the cashier, who was quite pleasant at first, handed me my receipt, she said to me "And you WANT a fifth?!?" I was so shocked and appalled. When I came back from the realm of the gob-smacked, I said lamely "Well we take whatever we're given."

She absolutely over-stepped her bounds. She, as an employee, had absolutely NO right to say anything to me at that point other than "thank you, have a nice day!" Yet, she felt compelled to imply that I made a mistake to  accept another child, and that my children were poorly raised that they can't take an hour in a craft store. I mean, I may as well have been sticking ice-pics in their finger nails-- it would've been better!

Over the years, the behavior of my children in such places has not changed. It is very difficult as a child to offer such a sacrifice--they're just barely learning to understand the concept! However, when it's four children to a shopper, suddenly it is not understandable for a child to be antsy at a store. When I had one, two, or even three, employees were able to excuse such behavior. But now that I've gone into the great beyond of large families (I can hear my friends with six to a dozen children laughing at my small family meeting such a circumstance) it cannot be tolerated.

Well, I knew it would happen, and like I said at the beginning, I looked forward to a large family-- tired of "how nice, one of each" or "I had an "oops" baby, too" or "I know someone who has four, they seem really happy" and "you must be busy". I guess I just wasn't ready for the commentary to come rolling in. My poor baby! Still in utero and suggested that he/she should not be allowed to live!

I will count it as a lesson learned and prepare myself for the assault. I'm thinking of making a t-shirt with an arrow pointing to my belly "I deserve to live" written on it. Maybe I'll get the ultrasound pic put on a shirt so they can look the little on in the face when dare to suggest s/he should be murdered.

Thanks for listening. I needed to vent in order to gain some perspective. I purposely kept names and specific store names out of the story to avoid the danger of what can happen in the www.