How to make friends and influence people...

... We don't have a lot of friends locally. 
My excuse is that I came to this area from 4000km away.  In actual fact it's not a very good excuse at all, and I have no idea why I haven't managed to get a close group of friends happening here.  I was originally from an area about 400km from here.  Since leaving school I spent the next ten years in the bigger city close to where I grew up, and I had a very close group of maybe 5-10 friends.  No matter what your interest was, there was someone close by to indulge with.  If I wanted to go out and party, I knew who to ask.  If I wanted to go to the opera, same.
Then I moved that 4000km, and was there, or within a 350km reach, for the next 4 years or so, and once more I developed a lovely close group of friends.  We don't talk all that often any more, but we are always a group, no matter what.  And every so many years when we get together, it's just like old times. 
But then I came to this area.  The city is the capital of the country.  It's very politically minded.  It's also very snobby.  I lasted eighteen months in the city, and then begged my way out to the country.  My boss told me that she knew if she didn't allow me to break my contract that they would lose me from the company.  And then eventually, I met Shane in a town another 100km from where I ended up in the country.  But all still in the same city area, if you get my drift.

Shane came from a small town about 600km north of here.  He'd been here for about three years when I arrived on the scene.  Being a stationhand on a property 1/2 hour from the small town doesn't help your friend status either.  His circle of friends was pretty much limited to the fella down the road, a stationhand on the next property. 

We both have plenty of acquaintences, but we don't have that close group of friends.

And in fact we alienated many of those who may have ended up our friends, by having a baby that died.  Oh yes, all our fault of course.  Not our fault that our baby died, but certainly how could we expect these potential friends to hang around and get past the awkwardness?  Pfft to them anyway.

So, how bittersweet (what?  Another bittersweet moment?) then that since we've had Toby arrive on the scene, and in a total of three outings to our local small town, it seems that every Tom, Dick and Harry want to talk to us.  We're the flavour of the month.  And I'm talking mostly about people we don't know.

Today we went to the supermarket.  I had Toby in his little people carrier.  He was looking extremely cute I must say, all foetal positioned up and sound asleep snug against my chest.  I struggle to get used to the fact that as people walk past they look at him.  At us.  I think that I must be doing something wrong.  Because I can't totally see him in there, so maybe he's squashed, or his face has turned blue or something horrible, and people don't want to tell me, but will turn to their friend and point out my terrible mothering skills. 

But then there are also the people who actually talk to us.  When we went back to the car today, and Shane was packing the groceries in, a car pulled out of the park two cars down.  I heard a lady say "do you still have that little cute baby tucked up with you?".  I turned, figuring she was someone I knew, but no.  So, with me standing beside our car, and her in her driver's seat, preparing to drive forward and out of the carpark, she decided to converse like we were old friends.  She asked me how old he was "now".  She pointed out that I looked tired.  She said "so you're breastfeeding".  And then proceeded to say how there isn't much that the men can do to help when we're breastfeeding.  I pointed out that Shane is great and takes one of the middle of the night feeds for me, as I express a bottle for him to do that.  Our conversation was finishing up about then.  Shane thought she was pointing out that he should do more to help, but I didn't think so. 

The last time we went to the supermarket, at least two women felt "the need" to come and ask to have a look at "the baby".  We also ran into three other people that I hadn't seen in literally years, so it was again, a very busy "show and tell" at the supermarket. 

:::

But that's where a bit of that "my baby died and you won't even look at my t-shirt" anger comes up again, and has been echoing around my head a bit.

Because when Ciaran died I didn't have a little person to proudly carry around the supermarket.  Where I now don't even worry about the small "baby belly" I still carry, and the fact that I have a fitted t-shirt on so it's sticking out the bottom of my baby carrier, back then I had a body that shamed me.  It was not necessarily any bigger, the belly, than it is now.  But instead of getting comments on my newborn, I was being asked when my baby was due. 

So, your baby dies, and instead you are ridiculed by the universe because you get to keep the baby belly, that makes people think you're pregnant.  Ouch.  Seriously?  If it was a nice universe then, besides the fact that babies wouldn't die in a nice universe, don't you think if it really had to happen, we would at least be "blessed" with after-baby-bodies of a supermodel?  Just to give us a blessing in disguise? 

:::

Lucky me.  This time I got to keep the baby.  At least so far (and please, please, please let me keep him forever).  But what about the other time?  What about my friends who haven't reached this point yet?  Apparently, I'm popular in town now.  Simply because I got to keep the baby.  Nice one.