I Used to Be that Girl

I went to a baby shower this weekend.  It was very nice.  Pinterest-worthy decorations, delicious salads, and a beautiful mom-to-be.  When it was time to open gifts, I sat next to a young woman (my age or maybe a little younger than me?) who isn’t a mom and said she isn’t ready to even begin thinking about becoming one.  As the presents were opened, all the moms oohed and aaahed over them and shared stories about the times we’d used a similar item or gave advice to the expectant mother about how to use them.  The woman next to me, though, alternated between bored and horrified.  Bored, because let’s face it, watching someone open gifts isn’t that much fun.  Horrified because some things, like cooling pads for your nipples, just don’t need to come up until you’re in a position to need them.

As I look back on the shower, the thing that strikes me most is that I used to be that girl.  Doesn’t have any kids, maybe won’t ever have kids.  Happy for my friend who is expecting, but it’s something that’s happening to someone else.  Now, though, I’m one of the veterans.  I’m someone who goes to a baby shower and is excited to see what gifts are given and to share my experiences.  I can think back on how overwhelming it was to have no idea what life would be like once the little one appears.  I wasn’t sure I’d ever get here, but I’m glad I am.