(Start with "Monday" if you can. No, you won't be lost if you don't. I don't pretend to be Tom Stoppard...I wonder if he has a blog.) So what were we talking about? Oh right. What to do when you're suffering through all of your infertility woes...
And your best friend from college, your next door neighbor, your coworker, (just one measly cubicle over) and your overachieving cousin who won the second grade art contest by drawing a perfect map of Bolivia complete with a special blue-green Crayola shade that she patented herself to replicate the rainforest, all came up pregnant last Tuesday.
I know it's hard. It's more than hard. It's excruciating. Right now, at this very moment only, (I can't speak for tomorrow and neither can you) you're not part of that club. And whatever you do:
Don't accept a guest pass from these people!
What I mean is: Don't let them sucker you into feeling guilty for not being thrilled for them or make you feel obligated to celebrate with them.
I was recently at a meeting at work where the guy in charge of Security spoke about how we shouldn't hold doors for anyone entering the building. I opened my big mouth and said: "A lot of us here are from NYC. We're not interested in being polite."
Not to say we're rude. We're just not worried about hurting feelings when our security might be at risk. And when we're around pregnant women, our emotional security is at risk.
My two cents to you: Volunteer for nothing.
Don't go on cutesie girls day out baby clothes shopping sprees.
Don't offer to help pick out wallpaper for the baby's room.
And for Gd's sake: Don't make any baby showers.
Don't help decorate any baby showers. Don't attend any baby showers. Don't shop for any gifts for baby showers. If you can, don't even use the term "baby shower".
Just call it: "Balloons, streamers, a sheet cake, and a woman in no condition to be sitting in a wicker chair for two hours." (At the end of the two hours, three partygoers will be summoned to hoist her out of it.)
Stick some money in an envelope and slip it to the woman who would be the next best candidate to do the wretched event and tell your next door neighbor, college roommate, cousin: "Sorry, this is a very tough time for me. I gave Anita money for the shower. It's the best I can do right now. Hope you have a great time."
End of story. Goodbye and good luck.
Then treat yourself to a movie, a trip to the beach, a cuddle on the couch with your honey, (preferably all of the above) the day of the big gala.
If you can manage to coincidentally be doing all of the above in another county, state or time zone, even better.
And for heaven's sake. Don't check any emails or social networks. Some loser (usually my sister)(I apologize)...
So anyway, some loser (usually my sister) (Geez I did it again) will plaster the giddy photos of the shindig while the horrid shindig is still going on.
Here's a photo of Lisa, the guest of honor, eating cake. She's laughing. She's having a good time. This one is of Kate, her sister-in-law. She's laughing and eating cake. She's having a good time too. This is Kate with Lisa. They're both laughing and eating cake.
This is Lisa's husband Rick. He's laughing and drinking in this photo. A baby shower with an open bar. Classy.
Here he is laughing to excess and drinking his third drink beyond excess. He'll be a good daddy.
Oh now, these must go at the front of the baby book: Mommy being greased and pried out of a wicker chair with a spatula and daddy being rolled off the cake table and onto a stretcher by EMS workers.
Listen I gotta go. I have a feeling I'd better give my sister a head's up. Can I plead sudden turrets syndrome? Anybody know?
I'll talk with ya again tomorrow.