Depression

The Garage Sale Surprise

By: raebabe Mood: Other Date: Feb 10, 2013 Music: None

Last summer I had a garage sale. A friend, let’s call her A, was moving so we put everything out she couldn't take with her and when that was over she took most things to donate to charity. She gave boxes of my things back about a week later. They went in the garage where they have stayed. They were supposed to go on eBay or craigslist but for lazy reasons I haven't done it yet.

That was how a box of books ended up sitting by the door. They were supposed to be my books. There were other books at the sale. These were the books of a soap opera Mom. She had child-rearing guides and dime store harlequin romances on her table. I had religious guide books and how to manuals.

And here is where the back-story comes in. Four months prior to the sale I was doing spring cleaning and made the hard decision to get rid of many of the baby things I would never use or need. Most things I was able to give away with no problem. These were little outfits I bought, a beautiful lace knit sweater that was meant to be for Savannah, a blue sleeper. I had a box of baby-proofing supplies like wall plugs and childproof door handles.

All these things reminded me of a time when I could be blissfully naïve. I felt comfortable letting go so I did. I gave everything to A except some books she didn’t want. One of these books was What to Expect When You’re Expecting. I told her I really didn’t want to have anything left to remind me but she wouldn’t take them and suggested I take them to the local second-hand shop for kids.

It was hard enough to walk into that place. I always feel uncomfortable and at home. It feels right to be in the children’s section of any store. I can soothe my soul for a moment when I walk through the aisles. If I don’t think very hard I get to feel like any Mom; looking at the cute outfits and fun toys. Like a missing puzzle piece I snap into my rightful place. But I always think and because of that I start to tear up.

So I work myself up to go to this second-hand shop that I am ill-equipped to endure, grab the books and walk to the door. I feel I can hardly breathe as I pass a cute plastic log cabin and little pink bicycles. Above the handle there is a note saying they are doing inventory and you can only drop items off.

That is all I wanted to do. I wanted them to take these stupid books so I didn’t have to look at them. The clerk wouldn’t take them. He told me to come back next week. I wanted so badly to ask him if he could just throw them in the trash but I didn’t. I took the books and gave them to another friend, B. I told B she could have all or nothing. I didn’t care if she threw the books she didn’t want away but I didn’t want them. I did this at A’s house where she was fully aware of the whole ordeal.

So, today I lean over to pick something up and happen to glance at the box of books. Buried maybe 3 books down I see the pink edge and tip of a foot on a very familiar book cover. I lift up the books to see What to Expect When You Are Expecting. I could have blown that off as a coincidence. I could have thought that maybe it was one of hers that wound up in my box if it weren’t for what book she put on top of it. I had gotten this free book on grief from the military after my stillbirth. It was a book meant for kids and I didn’t want it. I hoped no one would need it but I had it in my pile to get rid of any way. She put that book on top of the other.

Worst part is that I can’t even talk to anyone about what she did. I used to go to my Mom but she’s busy with my baby niece. It wouldn’t do well to talk about how stressful, cute and wonderful it is to have a baby in the house and then share a story like that. If I talk to my friends I feel like I’m asking for pity because that’s what I get. Plus, I don’t want them to know what A could really be like. They know her as a good person and it’s not fair of me to pit them against her (even though she’s moved away they still talk).

How could you be so hurtful? What did I do?