Since I haven’t cut or colored my hair in the last 3 months I decided to remedy the situation. I was beginning to look like a homeless hag so no one complained when I made the appointment and took a few hours for myself.

While browsing through the latest issue of Glamour, another client came in pushing a baby stroller. From all the “ooohing and ahhing” in the salon I gathered there was a newborn in that deluxe baby limo.

Alright one baby. I can handle that.

My colorist came in and began talking as if I was paying her by the word. This blonde crazy must have just consumed 64oz of caffeine before seeing me. Despite just meeting her, she instantly starts in with, “We’ve been trying to have a baby. I’m already in my 30’s. My brother has 3 kids. Our in-laws have been asking about grand kids.”

This  continues for probably 5 minutes despite the fact I haven’t uttered one word yet besides hello. “I’m sure it’s obvious because I’m so enormous but I’m pregnant!!!” Giggly shrieky laughter continues for about 30 seconds. That is so exciting, congratulations I say.

Alright two babies. I can handle that.

I sit and listen while I hear about the stroller purchase, the crib purchase, the clothing purchases, the room color, coordinating accessories in the room, and the baby’s name.

Another colorist comes in and starts working on the mom of the newborn. They begin catching up and all of a sudden there’s a “No, you are not!” “Yes, I am.” “No, you are not!”

Turns out the colorist is 42 and has a 12 week old. This was apparently a 2nd honeymoon baby which was not planned. After the birth she got her tubes clamped.

Alright three babies. I can handle that. End of story.

Normally, but not in my world.

Turns out the mom of the 12 week old is also 6 weeks pregnant. Yes, the same one whose tubes were clamped.

You know the minuscule percentage that’s always associated with procedures and how they can go wrong? Well, she’s spokesman for that group.

My first thought was, “Wow, that’s amazing.”

My second thought was, “Wow, you actually had sex 6 weeks after your delivery.”

Alright four babies. I can handle it but if you don’t hurry the f*** up with my hair I will freak out on all of you.

Sitting in the chair with a head full of foil, I begin pondering what the odds are of me being in this room at this time. It’s probably the same as getting pregnant while having your tubes clamped. I was half expecting octomom to walk in for highlights at any moment.

My colorist focuses back to me and says, “Do you have kids?” “Yes, 3.“ She starts asking me tons of questions about being a new mom. I happily answer and give her some helpful hints I have learned along the way.

Not once did I think to mention my recent miscarriage. OK, I did but I knew I would not say anything. There’s no need to rain on her parade. She’s so excited to be pregnant and become a new mom. It would be cruel to share anything with her that would cause her to worry during her last 14 weeks.

Towards the end of our conversation the question I had been anticipating while also dreading came. I calmly and simply answered her.

“So, do you think you will have more kids?”

“Maybe.”

The next time I need a haircut I may just hand Caroline a pair of scissors and say go to it.

After this experience, I know I can handle that.