pick your poison
G and I drove to the nearby farm market this afternoon, where they are having their annual Fall Festival. Normally, we go into the "pick-your-own" field and make our selections, away from the crush of toddlers climbing all over the piles of pumpkins, the families posing for pictures in front of the haystacks, the kids clamboring for candy apples and painting faces on gourds. (Saying this makes me sound like someone who doesn't really like kids, which couldn't be further from the truth; however, the main festival area is usually pretty crazy and the pumpkins in the field are much fresher.)
But this year, we couldn't find the "pick-your-own" lot... no signs designating that area as usual. We parked and went inside. The market just opened a wine shop, so we indulged in a few tastes before inquiring about the location of the "pick-your-own" area.
Oh, you need to take a hayride up to the top of the hill to get to that this year. In other words, wait in line for a good while, or get my pumpkins from the stacks.
Since I LOVE to torture myself, I chose the latter. We walked around the piles, trying to stay out of the way of the moms who were taking pictures. I tried my best not to look at any of the newborns wearing cute orange and black outfits for their obvious "first visit".
I stared off into the sky and just repeated over and over in my head "don't cry, don't cry, don't cry" while G was off looking at the largest pumpkins, trying to find a good one. He knows how much I normally enjoy doing this, and when he realized I was getting overwhelmed he offered to go look for the perfect tall one to complement the two squat ones we'd already picked out. He's so wonderful.
I managed to keep it inside until we got home and took them out of the car. G offered to finish putting things out, but I said "I've got to get on with life" and dried my tears.
But this year, we couldn't find the "pick-your-own" lot... no signs designating that area as usual. We parked and went inside. The market just opened a wine shop, so we indulged in a few tastes before inquiring about the location of the "pick-your-own" area.
Oh, you need to take a hayride up to the top of the hill to get to that this year. In other words, wait in line for a good while, or get my pumpkins from the stacks.
Since I LOVE to torture myself, I chose the latter. We walked around the piles, trying to stay out of the way of the moms who were taking pictures. I tried my best not to look at any of the newborns wearing cute orange and black outfits for their obvious "first visit".
I stared off into the sky and just repeated over and over in my head "don't cry, don't cry, don't cry" while G was off looking at the largest pumpkins, trying to find a good one. He knows how much I normally enjoy doing this, and when he realized I was getting overwhelmed he offered to go look for the perfect tall one to complement the two squat ones we'd already picked out. He's so wonderful.
I managed to keep it inside until we got home and took them out of the car. G offered to finish putting things out, but I said "I've got to get on with life" and dried my tears.
6 Comments:
And now in my internal jukebox: 'Pick Your Poison' by the Virginia Coalition.
J and I were invited to a similar thing today with his folks and the SIL and her two darlings. Yes, we declined.
I used to love this time of year...
the things that hurt the most are the ones i imagined doing with my babies, too. i think during trick-or-treating, when justin will be at work and i will be home alone, i am going to lock up the house and go out somewhere.
There are no shortages of torturous situations, are there? I am sending all my wishes to you that next year you will be among the throngs with your own little one (((hugs)))
These moments are the most painful for us as well.
Thinking of you. *hugs*
I can never imagine what it must feel like to suffer a loss. But I do spend a lot of time dwelling on the "might of beens..."
Lis, I am sending you strength.
<3 Marc
Lisa, I'm so sorry this was such a painful experience. Re your comment on mare's blog, pls don't feel intimidated about comparing your loss to others. I've been through very little compared to many on here, but it's still a loss as far as I'm concerned. The same is true for you. There is no hierarchy of loss.
Thanks for your stories.
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