This Weekend. . .

...I am hosting a baby shower.

Yeah, am I fucking nuts or what?

The quick story behind the baby shower is that I agreed to host it while in the happy throes of pregnancy #1 last fall. I have two very good girlfriends from MBA school. We all landed in Portland and see each other often. Complete coincidence but we all ended up getting married in the same year. And now we’re all in baby mode. So we agreed during lunch one day that we would take turns hosting each other’s baby showers.

This was before I became "the-friend-with-the-fertility-problems."

This was before I even imagined I would miscarry once. Not to mention twice.

By the time it came around to actually planning the shower, it was too late to back out.

Part of me wanted to challenge myself with this. "You are strong-like-bull, Ms. Planner" I told myself. In some weird way, graciously hosting this shower and being genuinely happy for the new mother would prove to myself that I have this whole fertility thing in rational perspective. That I haven’t let it rule my life. If I wasn’t struggling with this, I would still host a shower, right?

The other part of me desperately doesn’t want to become THAT friend. You know, the one who you dread calling with your happy pregnancy news. The one who everyone tiptoes around at social events. The one who everyone asks curiously, "so how are you doing?" Mostly because I’m not there yet. Seriously, with the exception of my friend who went off the pill in January, doesn’t chart, barely knows when she ovulates and is now pregnant with twins due on my due date, I have not been upset when others have shared their good news. In fact, I swear that my heart has nothing but happiness for them. In short, to me, turning down my obligation to host this shower would be an admission that I had in fact become THAT friend.

But really, I must admit that the major reason I didn’t think hosting this shower would be a problem was because I honestly thought I had a great shot of being pregnant for it. Probably a good thing I didn’t bet money on it.

That last part of my rationale makes me sad.

If it is any consolation, the new mom (this is a post-baby shower, so the new little guy will be co-guest-of-honor) also suffered a miscarriage with her first baby and then took almost a year to get pregnant again. And she is a year older than I am. So I have her story, which gives me hope.

And, Ms. Planner loves nothing more than to throw a party. What with all of the menu planning, decorating, baking, cleaning! Goodness! I’ll be in heaven.

So I have made a conscious decision to be as positive as possible about this shower. But, just in case, I am planning a little pick-me-up for the day after: a pedicure and a look-better-naked-exfoliation treatment. I know, probably waaaay TMI, but it is finally shorts weather up here and my skin has been under wraps of jeans, wool and cashmere since September.

Will update after the shower.

Wish me luck.