"Did that chick just bite it?"

So my weekend. It was not good. It sucked, as weekends go. We spent Saturday celebrating with our friends A and J at J's parents' lake house (a more informal post-wedding reception reception) and then went to Hubs' high school reunion. Hubs was class VP, so he had to help organize the reunion, and we had to go. Normally, it would have been a fine experience. Probably not über fun for me, but fine. In this instance, it was torture. All we heard throughout the night (or at least the only question I can remember) was: "Do you guys have kids?" "When are you going to start a family?" Which made me want to punch people. It really did. Even some of Hubs' closer friends asked us that, and didn't seem to notice when my eyes filled with tears. Then again, they were drunk. Drunk parents. Of kids. Kids home with baby sitters. Kids delivered after normal, healthy pregnancies. I wanted to hide in the bathroom more than I think I've ever wanted that in my whole life.

I feel bad because I was pretty shitty arm candy for Hubs. I try to be social and outgoing when we're out, even when I don't know anyone, because I don't want Hubs to feel like he has to worry about or take care of me in social situations. But last night I just snapped. I've spent 3 months in nonstop social situations where I don't know anybody. And I'm getting to know people, but it's a tiring process. I never get to be in groups of people where I'm comfortable. I know it'll come in time. But for now, it can make for exhausting weekends (and often, weekdays). I go to Hubs' family things, Hubs' work things, Hubs' friends things, and it's all new and, to be honest, scary for an introvert. I can flash the smiles and make the small talk pretty well, but it drains me. And last night I was down to empty.

I spent half the night working the check-in table, refusing to leave my post to go into the party even to get food. I made Hubs go instead. When he suggested I take a break and pick out what I might want to eat, I snapped at him and told him I was absolutely not going into a room full of people I did not know. Not again, not this night. No more. My body still feels pregnant, I know there is something dying inside of me, and I just can't even pretend to be a good sport. I can't do it. It's too much. There is too much pain and discomfort. I didn't want to be there, and I shouldn't have gone. Poor Hubs didn't particularly want to be there either, and I wasn't making it easy for him.

Finally, near the end of the unbearable night, I fell. I slipped on the heels of my boots and just... fell. Right on the floor. In front of loads of people who probably thought I was hammered. It hurt like a son of a bitch. And I think that's when I really got it: I can't even pretend to act normal. I laughed and laughed, because the whole thing was so ridiculous. I can't do anything but feel awful right now, and being out, faking like I'm fine, is just insanity. I laughed until I almost cried, and then we finally got to go home. I cried through the entire 40 minute drive.

Once at home, I ate three pieces of banana bread, hugged Hero until I was afraid he might burst, and went to bed, snuggling into Hubs so much that when I woke up this morning he commented, "You were such a bed hog last night!" I don't care - I needed to be comforted. Hubs is being enormously patient, given that he's disappointed and hurting too. When I talk to him about it, he just says he has enough strength. He says that he has it, plenty for both of us. So I guess I'll take him up on that, and lean on him. At least until I can avoid falling on my ass again.