It’s been awhile, and I thought I’d be ok. Really. I mean, it’s been years, right? We live in a new state, with new friends, new jobs, new opportunities, and we’ve worked so very hard on learning to deal with this sort of thing. But for some reason when I went to the mailbox today (incidentally, checking the mail is one of my favorite things–you never know what you’re going to get! It’s like Christmas everyday! So fun!) I got a very nice envelope, address to Dr. Adrienne Brundage (nope, still not tired of the “doctor thing!) and in side was a single square of pink cardstock:
Please join us for a baby shower!
It’s all pink and embellished with flowers and birds and an adorable stroller and it’s for a good friend and all I could do was stand in the driveway and cry.
I dunno. I thought I was through this part. I thought I had a handle on this sort of thing. Dean and I are at the age where we know lots and lots of families. Many of our friends are having kids. I understand there are babies out there. I’ve even cuddled more than my fair share…but for some reason this one hit me.
I think it’s the baby shower thing. I haven’t been to a baby shower since the “thou shalt not have children” verdict came down. I have been to many showers (and even thrown a few myself) and I know exactly what to expect. It will be a wonderful day…full of happy, giggling women excited about the prospect of a new baby. There will be gifts. There will be games. There will be endless talk of all things child. And I can’t do it.
I love my friend. I love her with all my heart, and I am super excited for her and her husband (seriously! They are going to make amazing parents! And I can’t wait to spoil this kid rotten. Oh, the plans I have!) but the idea of spending an entire afternoon at a party basically checking off a mental list of all the things I’m never going to have or experience…I can’t do that. Not even for a friend.
So I stood in my driveway and cried, while my dog rooted around in the neighbor’s yard. I cried for all the pink or blue or gender-neutral colored presents I’ll never open. I cried for those stupid party games where you drink juice from a baby bottle or pick diaper pins from a bowl of rice. I cried for all the advice from the older generation that I will never get. I cried for all the celebrating that I know I just can’t do for or with my friend. I cried for my family, who even though they say they are ok with us not having kids I’m pretty sure they are not. I cried for Dean who would make the most amazing father in all of the land and I can’t give him this. I cried for me, because I honestly thought I was ok, and apparently I’m still not. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.
I knew this was coming. I had prepared myself for the invite. I even talked it over with another infertile girlfriend and we had a plan. That plant went out the window. Instead I walked to the local liquor store and tried to buy some pumpkin pie schnapps. They didn’t have any. I probably shouldn’t be drinking that stuff anyhow. Maybe I’ll just be done with today and go to bed.
When is this going to end? I’d like to be a part of peoples’ live, and this whole having a baby thing is a big part of their lives. I’d like to not break down anymore over receiving a silly card in the mail. I’d like to not have to make excuses when I RSVP.
I’d really like to stop crying in my driveway on a Wednesday afternoon over something I cannot change. I really thought I’d be ok. I guess I’m not, yet.