A Love-Hate Relationship

I love going to baby showers. It’s so much fun to see the joy on parents’ faces and to participate with them – through a perfectly chosen gift – in welcoming a new addition to their home. While I still had a sewing machine, I was known for making each new little one a special outfit. Now I stick to gifts that reflect the new mommy and daddy’s personality, like NBA attire, a book for storytime, or the child’s BirthVerse.

Last night I went to a shower for a long-time colleague in my office. He and his wife are preparing for baby #2, a little girl. I went to the shower for baby #1, a little boy, not long after returning to the US. It’s hard to believe he’s old enough to be a big brother.

Yet here I am, awake at 4 in the morning, and I’m realizing it’s because I also hate going to baby showers. I have to confess that as a late 30-something (and getting later) woman, I wonder if we’ll ever have children. So far, the answer appears to be no.

It’s a funny thing about getting older. All of the tears and drama you thought you put behind in your emotional teenage years come roaring back with a vengeance. And the fact that days go by quickly isn’t just a reason to rejoice when the weekend approaches – it’s a terrifying reality. I now know what a ticking clock sounds like, and I know that it can get you up at 4 in the morning and break your heart.

If you are my friend, or a member of my family, please keep inviting me to your baby showers. I really do love to celebrate with you.