Baby showers. When you're trying to get knocked up they suddenly become a very different beast. I didn't realize this until I went to my first baby shower a year after we started trying.It was all going great: a beautiful day, a lovely lunch around the pool, margaritas flowing... it was my kind of party.
Three margaritas later, things began to shift. As the mother-to-be began opening her gifts: little shoes, little clothes, little hats... my mood went into a downward spiral. I sucked back tears as I wallowed in my misery. Inner B* was banging her fists on the table and yelling why not me! why not me! why not me! Waaaah!!!! I told her to shut it, drank some water, and quickly recovered.
My lesson: baby showers, alcohol, and infertility do not mix.
*Inner B: My subconscious voice. She likes to speak up and tell the truth of what I'm really feeling and thinking- especially when it is not PC or the 'right' way to think.
