I Survived the Baby Shower

First, a housekeeping note: I moved my writing blog to http://blog.jeanmariebauhaus.com/ (but it will continue to be mirrored on LiveJournal) and am in the process of expanding it from a "writing" blog to an "all my creative pursuits plus stuff that makes me happy" blog. Just so ya know.

This past Saturday was my niece-in-law's baby shower. It was the first such shower that I've been to since before my first miscarriage, so I was just a tad nervous about how I'd be able to handle it. But I'll tell you, six months ago, when all of my RPL-related grief resurfaced in the wake of my in-laws' passing, I would not even have been able to contemplate picking out a baby gift, not to mention making one and actually going to the shower to give it to her in person. But as the time approached, I began to feel a lot of peace about the whole thing. I even got excited about crocheting a baby blanket for my new grandneice-to-be.

The blanket: one giant granny square

(As an aside, this was said to me at the shower: "You're [nephew #1]'s aunt?! You look way too young to be his aunt!" I can't say that didn't help get me through the day. But this is what happens when your parents spread you and your siblings out over 18 years.)

At the shower itself, I started out fine. The place was hard to find, and my mom and I drove around the neighborhood for probably twenty minutes trying to find the right address. We were followed by the girl who said the above thing to me, who was also lost, while I was on the phone with Li'l Sis, who was the only one with GPS and actually managed to find the place, and then had to stand in the driveway and help navigate the rest of us to the right house--by the way, I did look up the address on Google Maps before we left, but their directions were WAY off; and Flattering Quote Girl said that her Mapquest directions were also useless.

At any rate, for the first half of the party I was just relieved not to still be driving around looking for it. I was also worried about navigating the food offerings, since I just got back on my diet last week, but they had plenty of veggies and lean protein, so I hung out in the kitchen with my sisters and noshed on healthy snacks until it was time to open presents.

This was when things got tough. I wonder if I would have had as difficult a time watching the gifts being opened if it had been boy things instead of girl things. But I'm irrationally convinced that my second pregnancy would have been a girl, so seeing all those little tiny dresses and pink and frilly things hit me pretty hard, and I had to paste a smile on my face and practice deep breathing.

At one point, my Big Sis turned to me and told me she was proud of me, and I almost lost it, but I managed to keep my composure, and I got through it, although after the gifts were all opened I had to excuse myself and go hide in the bathroom and give myself a few minutes to feel sad and cry it out. But then I blew my nose and dried my eyes and went back out there to have some cake (yes I had cake; at this point I felt like I'd earned it), and then I was okay for the rest of the day.

So that's one more hurdle out of the way. Hopefully, the mere thought of somebody else's baby shower won't be so fraught with fear and negative emotions after this, now that I know for a fact that I can get through it.

Number Four

Number Three
Number Two
Number One
The Big Day

Number Three

On this day three years ago, about this time, I was standing on a corner in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, with newly styled bride hair and my little sister, watching a classic car parade with growing consternation. I'd had no idea there was a parade scheduled for that day, and as I waited for the rest of my family to arrive for a pre-wedding lunch, I realized that being trapped on that side of town seriously limited our dining options. I also realized that we were cut off both from the hotel where I and my bridal party were supposed to get dressed, and worst of all, from the B&B with the chapel where Matt and I were scheduled to get married in a few hours. As people in '50s cars threw candy at my feet, I prayed that their parade would be done in time to not ruin my wedding day.

It was. Not in time to eat at the nice restaurant I'd picked out, mind - we ended up at a cozy country buffet for lunch - but by the time we finished eating, the cars were gone, and I made it to the chapel on time, and my life has been the better for it ever since.

Happy Anniversary, Matt.

Belatedness

I forgot and missed my 7th bloggiversary by three days. And here I was planning to do a commemorative essay and everything. Oh well. Guess I'll just save it for number 10.

The Joys of Non-Parenthood

I had my first ever pregnancy scare over the weekend. Talkin' 'bout good times.

Apparently my being ill screwed up my cycle and made me an entire week late. I suspected all along that the sickness was the culprit, but about three days in I started to get a little uneasy and decided I'd better lay off the rum until I knew all things were as they should by. By day five I was on the verge of freaking out, and also really thirsty for some of Matt's imported beer, so while I was at the drug store picking up various cough and congestion remedies for Matt (who went to the emergency room Thursday morning, since Urgent Care was closed for the holiday, to get started on his own lovely antibiotics, but that's fodder for another post), I picked up a test kit.

Soon after I got back home, nature called, so I gave myself the test. The instructions said that the results should appear in two minutes, but could take as long as ten. After about a minute the negative sign appeared, so I set it aside and went to distract myself for another nine minutes, deciding to wait and make sure before I started celebrating. When I came back to the bathroom, Matt was standing at the sink, and the test was gone.

"Did you throw away the test?" I asked.

"Yeah. You were through with it, weren't you?"

"I guess. Did it still say negative?"

"Yes," he assured me. Then, "There was a plus sign. That means no baby, right?"

"Um. What?"

"A plus sign means you're not pregnant, isn't that what you said?"

".... Crap. What? Let me see that test! Was there really a plus sign?"

"Yeah. Why? Wait, does that mean you are pregnant?"

"Yes! Crap! Get out of my way, I have to dig it out of the trash and make sure!"

"No way," he said, not getting out of my way. "Are you yanking my chain?"

"NO! Plus sign means pregnant! Lemme... oh. You're yanking my chain, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Dude. That's just not something you do.*"

"I can see that now."

My husband is such a comedian. HA HA HA! Except not. Anyway, there is no bun in my oven, which has clearly disappointed my uterus to no end, because today she is punishing me severely, but at least she's confirming that the minus sign knew what it was talking about. All is right in my world.

In other baby news, over the long weekend we had one cousin show up with her son's new puppy, and another cousin brought his baby girl by to see us. Both were cuddly and warm and too cute for words, and any baby jones I may or may not have been feeling lately has been thoroughly satisfied. Although now I kind of want us to get a puppy.

During those few days that we considered the possibility that I might be pregnant, Matt and I had many discussions about how great kids would be some day but that day is definitely not today, as there are so many different ways we want to improve upon our current situation first. Of course, we knew, if it happened we'd have it and we'd love it and we'd both do the best we could with the resources currently available to us; but I know this for certain: as much as I might pine to hold and play with a baby from time to time, when that happens, I'm still all too happy to hand them back to their parents the second they become fussy or needy. I'm just not yet ready to be a mother. Thank God I still have more than nine months to get there.

*My true reaction was somewhat more volatile, to be sure, but I'm trying to keep it family-friendly in here, so it's not fit to print.

One Thousand and Counting

This here blog o' mine has had over a thousand visits since I started counting a few months ago. I know that's not a thousand visitors, it's just the same handful of people coming back on a regular basis, plus the odd wanderer here and there. It's a very unimpressive number. In the blog ocean, I'm a lowly minnow, and I kind of like it that way. But still, it's a bigger number than I expected, and that's pretty cool, too. So thanks to all who have stuck around, for whatever reason, as I try to find my footing. It's comforting to see all those familiar IPs roll through my site tracker day after day. I promise to do my best to make it worth your while.