put on a brave face

She was trying not to let anyone see her cry.

Anyone who may have professional writing course noticed was politely looking the other way.

I had noticed one of her shower guest go over to her, have a whispered conversation, a hug, and then they left. I thought it was a bit early for that as I watched them leave. That’s when I turned around and saw her trying not to cry.

I wiggled my ample bottom on the edge of her plush chair and asked her if she was alright.

“I didn’t expect them to show up,” she said. ” Over Christmas K was three months pregnant, then she lost the baby. I really didn’t expect her to be here today”. No, not to see her in her much-longed for maternal state.

I put my arm around her as she kept talking. “I mean, I know what its like, watching others with their new babies when you don’t have one anymore. I even thought I didn’t have a right to be sad, considering I didn’t really have a baby there..” Her voice trailed off. She’d had what’s known as a molar pregnancy. Conception occurs, but for some reason the only thing that develops is a grotesquely deformed placenta. It threw us all for a loop when it happened.
“I’ll never forget,” she said. “I’ll always wonder what it would have been like.” She looked at me and apologized for having gone on long enough. Its okay, I said, I’ll listen.

“I know you will,” she said. And with a smile, turned back to her guests and their presents for her brand-new son.