april fools

A woman called today (and left a message on the answering machine, thank goodness), asking if we still wanted to reserve the two spots at daycare for our twins, starting April 1. I won't -- can't bear to -- call her back, but the cheerfulness in her voice made me suddenly feel as if something inside me had been put through a wringer. I had forgotten we had even signed up for daycare. How stupidly confident we were.

Things are getting better. I get a lot fewer medical bills these days telling me that, since the baby didn't live long enough to be put on our insurance policy, any procedures related to her aren't covered. I've stopped buying wine and I've drunk all the calvados in the liquor cabinet.

Everyone is nice to me, even the ones who don't know what to say. "How are you, Niobe?" they ask. "Oh, fine." I say and try to mean it. But I've cancelled my vacation, since, right now, sitting on a sunny beach on an island somewhere, watching the little sailboats tack into the wind sounds like one of the worst things I can possibly imagine. All that time. All that endless, shapeless time, with nothing to do but think.