A Teeny Little Thing
Originally published at Welcome To The Dollhouse. You can comment here or there.
Originally published at Welcome To The Dollhouse. You can comment here or there.
he last thing I want is to have this entry come off as some sort of ungrateful whine (or whinging, as the Brits say). But there is a little something that I have to admit I’m somewhat sad about. It isn’t the biggest deal in the world. In fact, it might be the littlest deal on my current plate. Yet somehow it is triggering a little bit of my Liana’s not good enough feelings. And then I feel guilty about that. Arrgh!
Stop beating around the bush, you are probably saying by now. Just spit it out!
I want to, but it just feels so stupid, so petty.
OK, OK, isn’t it my shrink who taught me that feelings are neither right nor wrong…they just are. I need to stop tripping over my feelings.
So here it is. I’m sad because…well, because I didn’t have a baby shower.
There it is. I’m an ungrateful little twit who has the most perfect baby on the planet (who is currently serenading me from her Boppy chair) whinging about baby showers. Ridiculous!
Before I go on with my whining, I want to make it clear that my desire for a shower was not about gifts. Absolutely not! My friends all over sent some lovely gifts for Zizi. Even people I’ve never met in real life thought enough of me to send baby presents. Oh no, it isn’t about the gifts. Let me be crystal clear about that.
Yet what I feel sad about is not having had the event or party to celebrate the baby’s arrival. You know, a bunch of my close friends sitting around drinking pomegranate martinis and oohing and aahing over pretty Zara? It’s kinda a right of passage for mothers and mother’s-to-be all over.
Before you ask, yes I do have friends. I treasure them. But I don’t think that either they or my co-workers thought that I might like a shower. Perhaps I come off as being not-that-kind-of-babe. Maybe it was the weirdness of adoption rather than pregnancy that threw them off. Maybe they didn’t feel close enough to me to think of hosting a shower. I do admit that I tend to keep people at arms length (one of my issues we are working on in therapy). I don’t like leaning on people and tend to be there for others but withdraw when I find myself in need. Ah, there’s a lot of crap about feeling unlovable and unworthy. The only person I fully let myself be with is my husband. Unfortunately his throwing me a shower would look a little self-serving.
I remember that 4 years ago, getting a wedding shower together for me was a challenge as well. At least with weddings, people have assigned roles, so the maid-of-honor knew that she was to plan the shower. I don’t think she wanted to, though. She and I, friends from medical school, were longterm unhappy single black women dating every loser on the planet. Finding AdoringHusband (and crossing the race line to find him) caused a major shift in a friendship that had lasted 17 years. Though she was happy for me, I think she resented the fact that I was partnering (much in the same way that an infertile feels when someone around her gets pregnant). So the shower was a struggle for her. She tried, but she left a lot of loose ends. Long story short, I almost ended up paying for my own (and only) wedding shower.
After the wedding shower, I knew that she wouldn’t be the one to plan a baby shower. And my sister across the country? It wouldn’t even occur to her…not to anyone in my family, actually. I waited (and hoped) that someone might surprise me, but no. It just wasn’t in the cards. And that is perfectly OK, though it does make me a little teeny bit sad.
In any event, I’ve been thinking about taking the reins into my own hands. No, I can’t host my own shower. I think my mother would roll over in her grave at the huge breach of etiquette. But I can host a “meet the baby” party, right? After all, the kitchen is almost done, AdoringHusband has a huge new grill, the baby remains adorable, and it is summer! We could have a real blowout.
Unless, of course, like the last time we tried to have a barbecue for 20 people 2 years ago, only 2 people showed up. Again, I’m trying not to take it personally, but you know…maybe I am not someone that people want to hang out with. I remember a person I considered to be a friend once telling me that she didn’t have room for new friends in her life. That was why she had never opted to hang out with me outside of work. That was more about her than about me, right? At least that’s what my shrink said.
Sigh…maybe it is me.