It’s 2:51AM, and you know what that means? BLOG TIME! I can’t seem to sleep, like, ever, and have been heinously erratic in my blogging, so I’m attempting to make up for it this morning with a spew of blog as we head into this long weekend.
MIL was in town for 10 days which I partially blame for my radio silence. She has the energy levels of Richard Simmons manifested in a small, 5’2″ Jewish woman raised in Brooklyn who has lived 30 years in Boston. I have the energy of a small snail on a good day, and feel like a beached whale right now. Between working 50-60 hours a week, entertaining MIL, and hosting my baby shower at my house, I gave myself a free pass from blogging last week.
I find that I am struggling with feelings surrounding my baby shower. This is in NO WAY a complaint about my shower itself. It was lovely, my friends are amazing, my family is beyond generous. I just felt like a whirlwind hit me, and was really angry with myself after it was all said and done that I couldn’t just relax during my own party and enjoy the scene. It’s my own psychological issues and anxieties…I know this “logically”, and maybe some time in 2017 when I can afford therapy again, I’ll dive deeper into this “emotionally”, but my social anxiety is becoming more and more of an issue for me. I had similar feelings around my wedding (people showing up for a major event that was all about me and Hubs made me so so nervous), and I buried them and refused to acknowledge them, but something clicked after my shower that really had me staring my social anxieties in the face. I don’t know why, but parties and celebrations thrown for me make me intensely uncomfortable. I can’t get lost in the celebration of people coming over to see me, and instead, I can’t stop thinking about whether or not people are bored, whose drink needs replenishing, or how embarrassing it is to open presents in front of everyone. Some of it may have had to do with the fact that the party was at my house, bringing it all “closer to home” but it’s deeper than that. I don’t want to bring these anxieties to Bagel–I want to be able to throw her a birthday party without worrying that the 3 year olds there are having fun or little Timmy’s out of punch and hates me and my awful house.
Based on the size of my house and the central location, my place was the logical place to host…but in the end, if I had to do it all over again, I would not have volunteered to have my place turn into baby shower central. Like it or not, I ended up taking on a lot of responsibility for making the house look nice, getting fresh flowers in the morning, snacks to put out… MIL and my Mom did the vast majority of the work, but with it being my house and all, I knew where all the stuff was, and that combined with my control freakedness had a hard time just sitting back and letting them do everything. My house looked like a party explosion went off afterwards, and I was not prepared to jump into a full work week after that. This sort of compounded the general malaise I felt that I didn’t truly get to connect with friends and family there because I was so anxietal. Generally, alcohol takes the edge off of social situations for me, but, well…yeah.
I think another jarring thing for me was watching my MIL and Mom plan my shower and get my house ready for me. Both are 5’2″ tall, and that’s about all they have in common from there. My mom is quiet, tempered, reserved, and emotionally detached from any sort of real feelings. She never goes out, does not have one good friend that I know of, and let’s just say that party planning is not her strong suit. My MIL on the other hand, lives for parties and party planning (and also attention–regardless of whose party it is). She is loud, has lots of friends, and shares lots and lots about herself (too much, sometimes). While it was mildly amusing to see them working together to decorate my place for the shower (or trying to…) I felt at times like I was watching Bette Midler and Barbara Hershey reenact scenes from Beaches 2, the Golden Years.
So as much as I would love to have Pin-worthy pictures to post on here of diaper cakes and mason jars filled with blue and pink homemade macaroons, I will just say that my shower was beautiful in its own anxietal way. There were about 20 friends and family who showed up, and everyone had a lovely time–including me, aside from my bouts of frantic searching for the right chip bowl, and replenishing of people’s mimosas. We played some cheesy party games, laughed a lot, and I opened an embarrassment of presents. The gifts are all in the baby room right now, and every time I look in there, I get overwhelmed by the kindness of my friends and family around this little Bagel of mine.
Oh yeah–and after the shower, I took off my dress, stared at it for a bit, and realized I was wearing it backwards the whole time. Granted, it wasn’t entirely my fault–the tag was in the “back” where it should be, but upon careful examination, was clearly mis-sewn (which is why I think the dress was on sale). Why I couldn’t figure that out BEFORE the shower makes me want to slap my forehead repeatedly. Fortunately, it was difficult to tell–it was a tight dress without any ties around the waist or anything– but I still cringe. CRINGE. when I think about it. Yet another thing to file away for the therapy session.
I will be 32 weeks pregnant this weekend. 32!! Really? I have another measuring check up with the Doc today, which will hopefully go all right, although I think I may have gained more than the requisite 2 lbs the last 2 weeks…in fact, I know I have. Unless the Doc office has some sort of magical scale, I’m pushing 4 pounds over the last 2 weeks. I have outgrown two pairs of maternity pants which kind of embarrasses me. Part of me likes reveling in my largeness. Especially when I’m in a comfie pair of stretch pants.
My ankles “may” be starting to swell a bit. I know my fingers are swelling up, as my wedding ring is tight…I’m still wearing it, but probably won’t be for long. Still no heartburn at all, no stretch marks, minor sciatic pain this weekend, no boob/milk leakage, and pretty low energy levels during the later part of the afternoon. I feel Bagel move constantly. Sometimes violently, actually, to a point where I have googled “seizure in the womb”–but apparently it’s normal to feel jerking and quick spasmatic movements sometimes. At least I sure hope it is! Last night in bed, I saw Hubs eyes go wide as he saw one side of my belly slowly push out into this huge lump and then retract. Alien, I tell ya. But I’ll take it.
And, as your reward for reading this far, I should also inform you that I finally trimmed my 1867 bush! Without a hand mirror! The process went fairly well considering I took a pair of scissors blindly to my nether-regions, and now my bush is back to late 80s style–hairy, but not braidable. I checked out my handiwork in the full length mirror in my bedroom afterwards, and damn it, was I proud.