I haven't had a haircut since my first miscarriage. Partly because I didn't want to go back to the stylist I love so much, who -- the last time I saw her -- was excitedly talking about the joys of having 2 babies, and have to explain anything about what my life has been like over the last year. Mostly because I am busy and lazy all wrapped in to one person who can't make enough time for an hour long salon appointment.
Well I mentioned to D that I was thinking about getting a cut and he encouraged me to go. My normal stylist wasn't available so I decided to go with someone else, figuring it was just a trim and couldn't possibly go that horribly.
Well, I was wrong about the hair (mushroom hair!).
But this post isn't about the hair. The stylist did the usual "new hair client" banter of "where are you from?" and "are you married?" and within minutes of telling her all about A, I knew the inevitable "do you want any more?" was coming.
And it did.
And I didn't cry.
I felt my stomach start to tense as soon as the words left her mouth but something inside me was able to answer with a calm "we are working on it -- but yes, we want more....Desperately." And with a small forced smile, I knew in my heart that, even though she had no clue how powerful a question it was, and even though she (being a young mom of four kids) may not have thought twice about what sort of cold response I could have given, the intention isn't what hurts when people ask the question. It's knowing the answer isn't as simple as "Yes. We do."
But I didn't respond poorly and I was able to separate a harmless conversation from my inner turmoil, and I was proud of myself for being strong enough to not project my hurt under the guise of standing up against insensitivity. She may have been insensitive but she wasn't mean spirited by any stretch, and really, isn't that what really matters?
Either way, I didn't cry.
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