We helped throw a baby shower for friends this past weekend.
Blue and white streamers hung from our ceiling. Blue napkins and tablecloths were set on tables. Blue baby blankets and blue striped onesies were opened and oohed and aahed over.
I skewered tropical fruit and made tea sandwiches and printed out baby Pictionary clues. The house smelled like the cinnamon rolls that I made from scratch (which were so amazingly delicious that I don't think I can ever make them again, such was my sugar coma from eating FOUR IN A ROW. I could NOT STOP even after the nausea and headache set in.)
Our most brilliant move: we hired a babysitter. The kids watched a movie in the basement with the sitter while the grownups chatted and ate upstairs. She then took the kids outside to run off their sugar (they had some cinnamon rolls too) while we played games and opened gifts. It was delightful and it makes me think that from here on out, we always have to hire a sitter for parties such as this.
I wondered how, as a mother of two girls, it would feel to throw this party for a baby boy. Would the sight of adorable blue booties make me weep with longing? Would I feel a deep pang for what I will never have: a baby boy of my very own?
(There will be no more babies here. I'm turning 40 next week. Our reality is that we have two girls and we are done.)
I can't say I didn't have a single pang of baby lust. But it was mild and different than I expected. Our friends will make wonderful parents, and I'm so happy for them as they begin this journey together. But also I'm so happy, selfishly, for me. I will get to hold a baby boy very soon! And I will still get to (mostly) sleep all night!
So while it is true that I will never hold another one of my babies, that leaves my arms and heart open to hold all the babies who will come into my life, whose moms might need a little break.
Oh you guys, I will be so happy to give them one.