O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree! / Much pleasure thou can'st give me; / O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree! / Much pleasure thou can'st give me

Today was a really shitty day at work. We had an event that was a really big deal, and I'd put in a lot of hours to make sure it went well. And . . . it did go well - really, really well.
However, one of the other workers I was helping to supervise made a sort-of-critical mistake publicly, and I had to deal with the aftermath. Everyone left happy, though, so I was feel pretty good about my management skills.
Then, as everyone was gathering in the main meeting hall, I decided to hit to bathroom. What a fucking mistake that was.
I was in the bathroom when I heard the lady a few stalls over start wailing. Like, it was a wall of fucking sobbing - large, guttural, panicked sobs. Before I could exit to see what was wrong, some of the event hall staff came bolting inside - - apparently, you could hear her outside of the restroom as well. Because of how the bathroom was laid out, I was just kind of trapped in the stall awkwardly as they tried to help this lady. They told her she had to tell them what was wrong and open the stall door. The woman in the stall just kind of tried to choke out some words, but no one could understand her. One of the staff lady then told her - in kind of a firm voice - that she needed to either open the stall door or tell them what was wrong.
That's when the lady in the stall managed to squeak out, "I miscarried. I think I - I think I did."
The whole tone of the room flipped on a dime then. Because I am a selfish creature, I instantly was transported back to my own memories of losing a baby.
The once-firm staff lady approached the woman in the stall with a totally different tone in her voice. She said, "It's going to be okay. We'll get you an ambulance, but you've got to let us in now to help you." She unbolted the door and they walked her outside.
I waited a little while longer. It was bizarre - the scene of so much activity and anxious tension just a moment ago was now so still and quiet. I was still stuck in my own memories, thinking about the horrible moment that I discovered what had happened. When I was pregnant, it was one of the worst times in my life. I was with a man who didn't love me (and was, at the time, an ocean away), and I was broke. I didn't have a plan, and my friends couldn't relate to my situation. I didn't tell my mom or dad because I wanted to wait until I had better news - a direction that I was going to go with this new little life I was growing. It killed me to keep anything from them, but the risks of their disappointment way outweighed the benefits of lifting the burden of secrecy. Still, there was an internal happiness. I would think about the child, and - it's so fucking weird - I would feel comforted in just rubbing my belly.
I realized at this point that my eyes were watering up a little, so I actively worked on pushing the thoughts of loss and pain out of my head.
I wiped my eyes, and I went to the sink. I blotted my face a little with a wet paper towel so my complexion would return to normal. When I exited the bathroom, I saw her - the lady from the stall - sitting on a bench. She wasn't someone with our group - I didn't recognize her at all. However, the shape she was in seemed pretty familiar. Her lips were bluish and her eyes were completely bloodshot. She looked like hell. She kept clutching her own arms - cradling herself in emptiness. She was surrounded by people, but she seemed so alone. The paramedic helped her onto a stretcher, and she left her purse sitting on the bench. The event staff lady - I think it was the same one who got her out of the stall in the bathroom - handed it to her. She weakly replied, "thank you," but it was pretty clear that the whereabouts of her belongings were of no concern to her at this moment. So many people were trying to help her, but there was really nothing anyone could do, you know?
Then, someone from my group came over to me, and grabbed my arm. They said something I didn't quite catch about me taking too long to get to the main meeting hall. I put all my feelings from what I just witnessed away, and followed into an expansive space. I didn't allow my mind to think about that poor lady and what had happened. Well, that was the plan, but I still found myself having to be on constant vigilance for those feelings that continued to creep back in to my mind.
Then, it happened. The company big shots were all lined up. Committee members like myself lined up to receive recognition for our parts in making this event possible. They named each person - one-by-one - who had helped out. People with the most minor parts got named . . . and they forgot to say my name. I wasn't recognized as a member of the committee. I had to stand there, and look out-of-place. One of the big shots even thought that I was mistakenly up there, while I was on the stage for part of the presentation and tried to usher me to a seat while I was doing my job.
It shouldn't be a big deal. I'm not trying to climb the corporate ladder or anything like that, but . . . my job is my life. I work all the time. I am always doing something work-related it seems, and this is the third time at a major event I've helped organize, that I've been overlooked when it comes time to give recognition.
I felt stupid and petty even caring about it, but I could feel my cheeks getting hot.
I went home with this feeling of disappointment sitting in my stomach from the way I reacted to the way my feelings had unfolded. I should be able just to let it go, right? I'm a team player; I don't need recognition.
There are also people with much bigger problems than me.
Fuck it - it still feels fucking rotten to be forgotten.