Baby shower jitters

This afternoon I'm headed to a baby shower.  My weekends have transitioned from wedding plans to baby shower/baby birthday plans.  For this one, I had to chose between a shower and another friend's 1st baby birthday party.  I chose the shower.  I tend to be early for events in life yet I am a huge procrastinator.  I waited until yesterday to get my baby shower gift. Now, being a baby-less woman, I am extremely grateful for the baby registry.  I headed to Babies R' Us to pick up a registry gift.  I printed to the registry and it became apparent to me very quickly that I should've done this earlier.  A majority of the gifts were already purchased, and many of the others I wanted to get were not in stock.  My anxiety went through the roof as I paced the aisles of Babies R' Us completely overwhelmed by all the foreign objects.  I feel my body become warmer and warmer, and I feel the dizziness sinking in.  I stop, sit, and convince myself to chill the heck out.  As I sit, an employee asks to assist me and I let her. 
I end up with swaddle blankets (which I am satisfied with) and a rectal thermometer.   

 Now, I am not very close with the friend whose shower this is, but I really, really like her.  I am worried out of my mind about this baby shower.  1.) Will the rectal thermometer gift imply that I don't like her as much as I do?  2.) I really hope she doesn't say rectal when she opens the gift.  I dread that moment at showers when my gift gets opened and everyone is watching.  Even if I am with a group of people I am extremely familiar and close with, my anxiety is through the roof.
I decide to head to a baby boutique to pick up one more gift.  The baby is a girl and I figure a little outfit will hopefully mask the rectal thermometer.  Now I realize if this thermometer is causing me so much anxiety, maybe I should just not give it to her.  Then I keep thinking if it was on her registry, I shouldn't worry, but I can't help myself.  

Here goes nothing! Fingers crossed rectal won't be mentioned.

Cleaning up the mess

My dear friend had her third little girl.  She has three girls ages four, two and the newborn.  I offered my services for the afternoon so she could get some sleep.  My friend slept in her room while I took care of the girls.  I was enjoying a tea party with the four year old, while the newborn slept.  I heard the two year old calling me from the other room, and I yelled back to wait just another minute.
 "Auntie! Come heeeeeya"
I postponed getting off my butt to the other room for a few more minute.  What I walked into was very unexpected.  There, squated in the living room over Mom's new pottery barn rug, the two year old was in the middle of taking a dump.  I froze as she gave me a look of fear.  She knew this was not the proper place to relieve herself.  We made eye contact as she pushed out the rest of it, pulled up her pants and pointed out the obvious, "Poopoo and peepee Auntie." 
Hmmm, what to do now. I probably should've stopped her in the act, but too late for that now.  I took her to the restroom to wipe her off, while convincing her this was nothing she needed to tell Mommy about.
"If I give you a piece of candy, don't tell Mommy, okay?"  She agreed to the bribe.  I hunted down a piece of chocolate and passed it over to the two year old while I cleaned up the evidence. 
Once again, very obvious that I am a baby-less woman with little knowledge of how to handle the world of children.  Although I lack the knowledge and experience, I normally leave time with kiddos with a smile on my face. 

Baby pressure even from Facebook?

My Facebook ads have hit a sore spot.  I can hardly log onto Facebook without the reminder of being in my thirties baby-less, and there being a problem with this.  My sidebar ads flash messages of infertility and adoption.  Just because I am not with child at the moment, does not mean I am experiencing these problems and I do not appreciate the reminder that the older I get the more my chances decrease.  A thought did occur to me while trying to bottle up my rage towards Facebook.  Women spend all of these years working towards not getting pregnant in our younger years- making sure we are on the pill, taking the pill on time, or making sure there are other forms of contraception around etc.  Once we are done with our personal fun or find that we better jump on the wagon before our eggs officially deplete and remove the goalie after all those years, why do we expect it to be so easy? 

I kinda have an image of God getting a little kick out of this and reminding us that he is the one in charge, not us.  I'm not trying to say women struggling with infertility deserve this struggle or brought it on themselves by any means.  My heart goes out to those women.  I'm simply reminded that we are not the ones ultimately in control of our journey. 

Superior babysitter

Within 24 hours, I've received 3 text messages asking, "Are you pregnant?"  Mind you none of these people read this blog.  
It just so happened I offered to babysit for a friend's one year old son last night.   They don't have any family close by and so I offer my services free of charge (like anyone would actually pay me to watch their child.)  This was about my fifth time to watch my Little Buddy.  While babysitting two friends called.  During both brief conversations my little buddy happen to be screaming. 
His screams were of excitement but over the phone sounded like a crying baby.  As soon as I hung up with the first friend I received the text, "Are you pregnant?"  I thought it was a joke and asked her if she had miraculously found and read my blog.  She had no knowledge of any blog of mine but I sparked her curiosity.  Hmmm... So,  the idea of me babysitting to one of my oldest friends seems like such a foreign concept that the only explanation she can come up with is that I must be having a baby to be around babies?  This is not encouraging news.  
The second friend calls and says, "What? You're babysitting? Why? Wait, do these people even know who they left their child with?   Is everything okay?"  
I hang up without giving an explanation because my little buddy fed part of his puzzle to the dog, Chubbs.  I feared for Chubb's life.  My responsibility was to keep my Little Buddy alive, I never considered the dog a possibly casualty.  It looked like I might just have an emergency on my hands.  

 I fought the puzzle piece out of Chubbs.  He put up a fight but ultimately, the puzzle piece was the only casualty of the night. 

My Little Buddy and Chubbs both survived the evening with me.  When Little Buddy's Mom came home and she picked him up, he reached out for me.  Yes, me the baby-less baby-sitter. 

Although my friend's confidence in my baby abilities is at an all time low, I have faith in myself.  I do like proving people wrong, but NO...I AM NOT PREGNANT. 

Text message: Are you pregnant?

People, really! This is getting out of control.  I sit at my desk and hear the ding of my phone indicating a text message.  The text message reads, "Are you pregnant?" 

That is it.  This is from a friend I talk to about once a month.  No small talk, no checking in on seeing how things are going, just right to the point.  I respond, "NO," hoping to get across the same directness as her message. 
I understand that I am married, and now into my 30's, but the frequency I get asked whether I am with child is out of control.  I'm going to up my yoga so my belly (which I have had as long as I can remember breathing) won't be mistaken for a baby.  Even with my new strategy, I think the baby questions will still keep coming, just hopefully this will decrease the frequency. 

We did spend the weekend with our twin, 5 month old nephews.  We love our nephews dearly, but every time we leave them, we are a step further from creating life.  Husband has definitely been keeping his distance since we returned from our weekend visit. 

Pep talk from the BossMan

My boss is a small set Indian man (dot head Indian, not native American), a year younger than I.  We have a complicated relationship.  One day you will find me comparing him to the North Korean government and another, he is more like a brother.  It is very much so a love hate relationship.  I sat in his office attempting to go over work items.  He was in an extra chipper and playful mood, avoiding all work related inquiries.  Here is how our conversation went today.

BossMan:   What is going on with you? 

Me:            Not much, you? 

BossMan:    I mean, you are so happy.  You have a glow to you. 

Me:            A glow?  I got my hair highlighted.  That is it.  

BossMan:   What color was it before?  

Me:            Brown.  Now it is back to blonde.  It was brown all year. 

BossMan:    I don't think that is it.  It is something else.  Really, you have a 

                  special glow.  What are you not telling me?

Me:            What? Nothing.  I am probably just hot from being outside in this 

                  100 degree weather.

He continues starring me down when I figure it out. 

Me:             Are you trying to ask me if I am pregnant? 

He looks at me and smiles. 

BossMan:       Are you? 

Me:               Seriously?! This again?  No.  Is your wife pregnant?  

BossMan:       I don't know.

Me:               Do you think I am getting fat? 

Bossman:      No, I just think you are pregnant.  What are you waiting for?  Time

                    will keep moving along and you will keep getting older.  

Me:               Well, who knows, maybe I am and don't know it yet.  I'll let you 

                    know if I get my period next week.

Now the conversation is over (so I think). I know any mention of a menstrual cycle to a man is a sure way to end a conversation. 

He proceeds to show me a picture of an old lady on the his phone, implying my future. This is third time he has asked me if I was pregnant, only this time he put the pressure on reminding me of my biological clock. 

Thanks for the pep talk BossMan.  Still Baby-less.

White hairs sneaking in

White hair continues to find its way on my head.  When it first started happening I tried convincing myself they were blonde sun streaks, but there is no denying it now.  Each time I find a new white hair I feel my life passing me by and my days of being able to reproduce in this world fade away. How do I get myself to feel ready for a baby?  I know I look like a grown-up, but I don't feel like one.  I've chosen to pull each hair out that I find, but this is becoming quite painful.  I save them to show Husband to prove to him I am on the road to becoming a little old lady (fingers crossed I am little and not fat again in old age).  He just looks at me and tells me I'm pretty or something along those lines.  Smart man I must say.  I have an appointment to dye my hair tomorrow, although I know this won't take away the problem.  There isn't enough time!  Does anyone else ever feel like this?  

Suburbs, kids and mini-vans make me sweat

We spent the weekend with cousins in Chicago. They live in a beautiful Chicago suburb with three gorgeous high energy girls under the age of four.  This is no cookie cutter house with newly planted trees suburbia that they live in.  This is the all-American, small town, blissful suburb, with huge old trees aligning quiet streets and houses with white picket fences.  This is the kind of suburb that makes us baby-less city dwellers want to pack up our condo and move our lives to small town suburbia. 

They are living the life most people dream of and that I have feared for most my life.   Why do I fear a family of my own and a house?  Why do I make it such a big deal?  This is the good life, right?  It is what we are meant to do. They are genuinely happy.  There is a reason people pick up and eventually move to the suburbs and have children. I don't think my friends and family are faking their happiness.  I truly think it works.  I've seen it with my own eyes.  I'm just not sure if it is going to work for me.  When I think of the living in the suburbs with kids of my own running around, I think of the opening song of Weeds. 

A life with kids in the suburbs with mini-vans (our cousins also have a new mini-van complete with all the helpful gadgets) makes me start to sweat and panic.  Living in our cousins world for a few days, made me realize it isn't as bad as I have made it out in my head.  In fact, it isn't bad at all.  Now if only I could find a suburb like theirs in Texas.  

When we got home, I spent the entire day in bed recovering from the excitement of three kids wondering how I would ever be able to do it. I was back to square one, comfortable in my baby-less world.  How would I ever be ready for kids, suburbs and possibly a minivan?  Husband, on the other hand, had a different reaction.  

"Let's get us one of those," he said.  

I starred at him speechless.   

Parenting objective: Making sure it doesn't die

I was struck by a comment about parenting I heard on the radio this week. "Your main objective being a parent is making sure it (the child) doesn't die." That sounds simple enough, right?  For the rest of the car ride I thought maybe I could be a parent.  I could handle keeping it alive.  My confidence was at an all time high on moving forward with reproducing. I came home daydreaming about the possibilities. Laying on the couch,  I looked out onto my balcony to find dead plants. 

Two out of three of my plants died.  Temperatures have been above 100 degrees and I somehow forgot to water my plants.  When they needed me most I abandoned them.  I have no excuse, I simply forgot.  Would I forget to feed a human, change its diaper or pick it up from heaven knows where?  I guess I am not so good at keeping things alive.  
 

The one plant that is hanging on, is hanging on for dear life.  Although visibly dead, I decided to water and see if I could bring them back to life.  Looks like I need more practice on keeping things alive. 
Reproductive confidence shot back down.

Fear of Jumping on the Baby Train

When you are in your 30's and married, you get asked regularly when the kiddos are coming.  I've been getting this question more frequently recently.  When I reply, "No kiddos," the next question I get is, "What are you waiting for?"  In an attempt to actually have an answer to this question, because I know it will be asked again, I've devised a list. 


1. I'm still a kiddo...right?  
2. I'm still dreaming about what I want to be when I grow up.  
3. Trying to get in bikini body shape.  (Although I have been attempting this for close to 20 years with little to no success)
4. My yoga practice is at an all time high.   I don't want to mess that up.
5. I'm waiting for a big sign.
6. I really enjoy being alone and lazy. 
7. Babies are expensive.   
8. I am scared. 
9. Dentist said I need to get my wisdom teeth out.  I should do this before kiddos right?
10.Our closest family members live 3 hours away.  
 
Looking over the list, it does seem like a lame list of reasons.  What am I waiting for? Truthfully, I was never one of those girls who dreamed about getting married and having kids.  Until I met Husband, I rarely thought about getting married.  I dreamed about a life as a career woman staying at work late, eating at fancy restaurants and schmoozing with my fellow, successful friends.  Meeting Husband drastically changed my views on life and my life goals. Now I enjoy and dream of a simple life.  Having Husband does make me think about having kiddos, but I'm still scared.  I see all the joy babies bring to others in my life, and you'd think that would be enough.  I guess it is like everything else in life, you don't understand until you go through it yourself.  If it happens, it will just have to happen unplanned. I guess my list doesn't do a good job of justifying what I am waiting for...so what am I waiting for?  

 My adorable nephews. 

Preggers? No, just carrying some extra belly fat

Yesterday I had my annual women exam.  After waiting for 2 hours to see my physician, and welcoming the news that I have a few more years left before I need to start having children, I headed to the grocery store.  A talkative, early twenty something male checked me out.  We started engaging in small talk when it all of a sudden felt too personal.
"School starts in a few days, " He said.
"Oh really, I'm so removed from the school world. I don't have any kids so I guess I just don't pay attention." I replied.
"Really, are you married?" He asked.
"Yes," I replied, starring down at my ring finger.
"Well, are you trying to have kids? He asked.
I so shocked at the question, I started laughing hysterically.  Did grocery boy realize that his question implied asking if I was regularly having intercourse with my husband?
"uhhh, no, not right now" I replied through my laughter.
"Well, have you talked about it?  I hear sometimes it takes a while." He replied.
Really? Was this happening?  Was I discussing my sex life and future child bearing plans with the grocery store checkout man?
"Uhh, yes, but we haven't been married a year yet and are enjoying time alone right now." I said.
He handed me my receipt, wished me a good day throwing in one last piece of advice.
"You aren't getting any younger.  I'd get to it if I were you."

And with that, I headed back to the office.

Later that day I have my weekly meeting with my boss.  As I am getting up to leave his office he has one more question.
"So, I hear you are pregnant." He says very matter of factly.
"Uhh, what? Really? No. No. No. I am not pregnant.  I uhhh, I think I gained a few pounds." I reply uncomfortable with the question, I look down at my belly instinctively rubbing it.
"It is okay if you are. You can tell me." He says.
"Really, no I am not pregnant. I promise.  Are you pregnant?" I ask him.
He looks down at his stomach confused by the question.
As I run out of his office I catch the look on his face that says he does not believe me.  He thinks I am pregnant.

I am not pregnant.  I gained a few pounds.