Where's YOUR baby?

The other day, I had a horrible experience at a restaurant. The cashier asked me a question that I had imagined people asking me but never actually expected to hear. "Where's YOUR baby?" 

My friends and I were out to lunch celebrating a birthday. Many of my friends have small children and I am so grateful to be included in their group. There is no doubt in my mind that I belong in a group of mothers because I AM a mother. I just don't have my child with me physically. Unfortunately, the cashier noticed this and when I approached him to make my order we had the following conversation.

Me: Hi! can I get...
Cashier: *interrupts* Are you with this group of ladies?
Me: Umm yeah we're all here together but we're paying separately.
Cashier: Everyone has a baby. Haha! So where's your baby?
Me: (Internally) Wow he asked me that? *shock* She's not here. I wish she was here. *sadness* I don't want to get into this with a stranger *anger* I should tell him so he feels horrible.
(Externally) Oh... Ummm.... I.... Ahhhh....
Cashier: I'm just giving you a hard time.
Me: I don't have her with me.
Cashier: But you do have one?

Me: YES!
Cashier: Okay what can I get you?

I spent the rest of the day talking about this interaction with Jared, my mom, and close friends (I even set up a time with the therapist) and going over what happened and what I could have done differently. Personally this is how I process these situations. I get validation for my feelings and hopefully I can learn from it. We all came to a few conclusions.

1. You should NEVER ask a woman a question like that. Every woman is living a different life and I can't think of one who wouldn't be a least confused by this question. I could have been single wanting to get married and have a baby so bad, I could never want kids and who is he to expect that of me, I could be struggling to get pregnant, and so many other scenarios where that question is inappropriate. 

2. In the moment, with all the thoughts, emotions, and social responsibility to answer in a reasonable time frame, I could not have processed it all and come up with a better answer than I did. We all look back on times when people say or do things that shock and hurt us and wish we had said or done something different. But the truth is that your brain kind of shuts down in a soup of emotions and internal questions.  So I have to plan an answer now for next time I encounter something like this. 

3.  I answered with the truth, but not the whole truth. I wanted to have said more. The more I talked it over with people the more I realized that I wanted to help this man learn the impact of what he had asked me. It started in anger. I wanted to tell him the truth, start crying, scream about how rude that question was, maybe throw a punch, and storm away never to return. But my introverted, non-confrontational self answered the way I did and I wasn't satisfied with that either. I wanted him to know the truth about Eden. Because the truth I had shared implied an untruth. That she is still alive and that it was okay for him to ask me that question. 

So considering 2 and 3 I had a choice to make. I felt that I had answered honestly for myself in the moment. I DID NOT want to tell this stranger about my daughter's death over the counter while I was just trying to order my food. I hadn't lied to him so if I wanted to leave it at that, it would have been fine (even if I had lied). We have been asked similar (yet less abrasive) questions earlier on in our grief by people who were making small talk (do you have any kids?) or noticed that we owned baby items (how old is your baby?) And we just played it off that she was still alive. And at that point we were not at all comfortable telling strangers the truth. And that was just fine. And you get to decided when you are ready to move on from that point. In this situation I felt that I was ready. I felt that leaving what I had said alone didn't feel right. I felt like I needed to be more honest, not just to teach this guy a lesson but for Eden. We just spent a week sharing her compassion with the world and I wanted to help spread it a little more. 

One of my friends suggested writing an email to the restaurant so I did. Is it weird that they have an email contact? This is what I said.

I visited your location for lunch on August 29 with a group of my friends. We are a bunch of young mothers and many of us had small children with us. I approached the counter after my friend and her two year old son. The man at the counter started up a conversation with me and asked me if I was with this group of ladies with babies. I said yes. He then asked me where my baby is. The truth is that my baby passed away in January and I would have given anything to have her with me in that group of mothers that day. When I stumbled over my words to answer his question, he said he was just giving me a hard time. I said that I didn't have her with me (discussing my tragedy with a complete stranger makes me very uncomfortable) and he probed further asking, "But you do have one?" I said yes and continued to place my order.

That specific line of questioning could be very uncomfortable to others in my circumstance, people who suffer from infertility, people who have had to give their children up for adoption, and more.

I do not share this with you to get anyone in trouble or to get anything from you. I know that your employee was just trying to be friendly and make conversation. But I wanted to provide a reminder of the impact that asking what seem like small yet very personal questions can have on the people you serve. 

Thank you for taking the time to read and consider my thoughts.

Now that I have sent the email, (and gotten all my feelings down here) I feel satisfied. I don't even really care if the man I talked to hears what I wrote. I hope he does and chooses to learn from it. But in the end, I was honest to myself and to Eden.