countdown to motherguilt initiation: 3, 2, 1....

This morning I have to go sit in a circle in Lilly's classroom and for about 30 minutes face a group of parents and children who know I just lost a baby. (They may not remember or especially care, but still, they have been informed.) I would much rather be under the covers but instead I am sipping tea and blogging this all out in hopes of achieving some zen-like state in the next half an hour.

Not only will I sit in this circle, but there I will also, more or less, pretend to be my mother. Hm.

Series of event leading up to whatever is about to happen:

- Several months ago Lilly gets an assignment to interview someone from a previous generation. She chooses my mom (so sweet!). My mom (Lilly's new "Nacky") lives 7 hours away, so they do their interview by phone.

- Lilly turns in her interview, and we hear that at some time in May there will be reports and oral presentations, to which the interviewees may be invited.

- A few weeks ago, immediately after my mom makes a 7 hour drive to visit us, we find out that the event is today. I take initiative - I choose not to invite Nacky. She has a very very busy job. She was just here. Let's not add any stress or hassle. We'll go camping with her soon. To reduce drama, I tell Lil she just couldn't make it. And I don't even mention this thing to my mom. (Whoops! Bad stepmommy.)

- Two days ago we learn that the interviewee (ie, Nacky) is to stand up with Lilly while she makes her presentation. And most of the kids are showing up with their grandparents. But since Nacky can't come, I am, by request of Lilly's teacher, to stand in for her. Tell a story about Nacky. Have my photo taken in Nacky's place.

- Yesterday Lilly lets on that, while she seemed really fine with it before, she is actually bummed out that Nacky will not be there. (Guilt, guilt, guilt.) And by the way we have to sit in a circle with all the other families while presentations are made.

So, this is my punishment for lying. Grr. Plus, I'm sure to get caught.

But to the task at hand. I've put on my suburban stepmommy armour: real makeup, button-down shirt, the good jeans that, thank God, I can fit into. And Brian will be there. (God bless him, he attends 99% of Lilly's school events whether on a workday morning or not.) And immediately after I'm going to go dance some Nia, which I love and should help me shake it off.

It will probably be fine. I truly don't think anyone cares or remembers about the baby. And while I want the people I love to care and remember, for this insufferable 30 minutes, in which I am to share the joy of family life with strangers and their kids (who are very nice but know all our dirty laundry), it's okay if everyone forgets.