Forget my pity party on the couch in snood and slinky skirt, I have a reunion to attend

It’s been one of those days.

An unproductive morning at work.

A phone call from my grandmother saying she’s disappointed I haven’t visited since last Thursday.

A routine obstetrical ultrasound shattered by the dreaded words “there’s no heartbeat.”

And then my inevitable snapping at the kids all afternoon, making me feel like a horrible mother.

Yes, these things aren’t listed in order of importance, but in my drained emotional state, all my numb mind can process is the bitter taste of failure on my tongue. Work-related problems, a lost pregnancy, and less-than-stellar parenting mix, and my brain can’t think, my heart can’t feel.

When the supper-bath-bedtime routine is finally over, and my home is blessedly quiet, all I want to do is sink into the couch and mourn my loss. But an old school friend from abroad is visiting for the week, and all us classmates living in our hometown have arranged to get together at a local café tonight.

Forget my pity party on the couch in snood and slinky skirt, I have a reunion to attend, where it’ll be coiffed sheitels, chic dresses, and self-confidence to match.