Invisible handicaps

This past week was amazing - we took our cruise to Mexico, Belize and Isla Roatan.  I got a massage and we sat on the beach drinking rum (well, Matt was) and enjoying the ocean breeze.  It was a great escape from work and responsibility, since we had a couple watching our home and pets and leaving us mostly carefree for a solid week.  Bliss.

Then there was the blind guy.  We chose to dine on “our time”, which meant a different seating arrangement every evening, but no restrictions on time to show up.  One night we end up with an older (50-60s) legally blind gentleman and his wife.  This guy took every opportunity to tell everyone at the table that he was legally blind.  Multiple times.  Even though no one asked.  So he can see shapes and colors but not much beyond that.  

A few days later, we’re in the pool in the adults-only Serenity deck, enjoying the cool water after a long, hot day traipsing around Belize, when Ray Charles shows up.  And begins talking, at great length, about all the places he’s been and things that no one knows but him and his travels and collections and friends and associates because me me me me me I I I I I LOOK AT ME I’M SPECIAL.  Matt and I are comfy and don’t want to get out, so we chat with Me-Monster a bit.

Then he asks the “so ya’ll have kids” question, to which I reply “Yep.  A 10-year-old.  And one on the way.”  And Dickbag goes into a tirade about how we “should have had them at like 3 and 1” or closer together, and “why would you want to have another one now, that’s like starting all over.”  And I’m biting my lip til it bleeds and letting the saltwater from the pool bring even more physical pain to dull the emotional anguish and keep me from punching his detached-retina lights out.  

I explain that Parker is mine, and Matt and I just married 3 years ago.  I explain that our daughter was stillborn last November, to which this incredible asshole, who should know something about the hardships people have to go through, the strange looks and snide comments you get when you have a visible handicap, says to my face “Well, Mother Nature doesn’t make mistakes.”

Excuse the fuck out of me you pretentious prick, but I disrespectfully disagree.

I kindly informed our misinformed co-passenger that my daughter was full-term and perfect.  That it was an accident, and there was nothing wrong with her.  There wasn’t a mistake that “mother nature” felt a need to “correct.”  Matt stepped up and defended her as well.  I wasn’t about to let this guy off the hook without knowing he got his “facts” wrong.  

He then tries to backpedal and makes a comment about “those babies born at like 24 weeks that are like a pound and it’s not right and those kids are never right.”  I’m fuming at this point, looking at my 6-foot, 200+ lb husband who was born prematurely.  According to this guy’s logic, my husband also “wasn’t right” and shouldn’t be here.  I couldn’t even spit out any words without hissing at the guy like a Dilophosaur, so I just said “I’m going to go lay out, now” and removed myself from the pool.

I couldn’t believe this guy was blind in more ways than one.  And yet, underneath my boiling surface, I was actually glad that he was that stupid - because it meant he never had to go through anything like it himself.  He couldn’t possibly understand, and although his words were incredibly insensitive and painful to endure, I’ve endured much, much worse.  I would gladly trade places and be physically blind if it meant I didn’t have the insight I do now, on the other side of loss.