Skip to main content

Gold Medal Baby

I'm surrounded by baby these days and I suppose it's my age. All of my friends are getting married and some are even starting to "try" before their nuptials are confirmed, fighting to beat the infertility clock. The race is on: late twentysomething couples stand at the starting line, perched on their toes, fingertips brushing the ground. Sweat has started to roll lightly down their faces in reaction to the pressure of the task ahead of them. The gun goes off, BANG! And the couples begin to hurdle down the track. Except, wait. Instead of gracefully bounding around the circle, they stumble awkwardly, each with a leg in the potato sack. They have to move in unison and have perfect timing to get the job done right. It takes skill and possibly, several times around the track, to make it work. And when it does, they're off to the next event- the obstacle course.

Unlike the sympathetic feelings I get while talking about weddings, when the conversation goes a little like, "Yep. I know. It's not YOUR day it's THEIR day. Get used to it," talking about pregnancy and babies excites me. I love hearing my friends' news about how they found out, "Did you see the plus sign as you peed on the stick?!", how they told their husband and what their favorite cravings are, "Aren't cream cheese and bagels heavenly?"

What's even better is the anticipation of watching my friends get cuter and cuter as they grow with and prepare for their babies. The women physically become adorable as their bellies round out and they wear the latest Target Maternity fashions with pride. The dads-to-be ask clueless questions and squeamishly listen to other already-Dads talk about the birth, "Yeah- I saw the whole thing happen. It's hard to believe a person can come out of there!" In and out of tires the couples hop, scaling the wall, shimmying through the tube, maneuvering through the 9-month, parent-to-be obstacle course. And I have a front row seat to the event.

The best part is the medal ceremony, the birth. I'm so proud to see my friends accomplish this huge task, showing off their baby like a gold medal. I have lots of new babies in my life, little bundles belonging to my friends. They are not my baby but I'm amazed at how much I care for these children. I oohh and ahh over every picture sent, cuddle them in my arms, (if they live close and I have that luxury) and celebrate all of their milestones alongside their mothers and fathers. After a recent visit with one baby/mommy duo I wondered why I felt such affection for this particular baby and it didn't take me long to realize how much I look forward to loving this person as much as I have grown to love my friend.

No matter what events life brings us next, I'm glad to be tackling them head on beside so many amazing friends. And their babies.


Popular posts from this blog

Me V. Parental Judgement

When you are pregnant, there’s so much to think about when considering the future: what color to paint the nursery, what decorating scheme to select from Pottery Barn, whether to go with disposable or reusable diapers, what to name your little nugget, and even deciding to use a cake or a box of balloons for the gender reveal party. You quickly learn that, if you share any of these decisions with anyone, you are bound to get opinions- lots of them. And, while this isn’t the first time we get solicited or unsolicited advice (where to go to college, what to choose as a major, what profession to pursue, who to date, who to marry, what dress to wear to the wedding, who to invite to the wedding, what type of alcohol to serve at the wedding..) the birth of a child seems like the first time that SO MANY opinions are given. It’s already a time of anxiety and unknowns that the opinions of others can easily feel overwhelming.What, I should have gotten the rocker that swings from side to side ins…

Work Family

Did you know that you spend around 90,360 hours at work during your lifetime? I usually only write about my job in the most vague terms but work is, and always has been, a really important and vital part of my life. A hundred years ago, when I left my first professional job, I remember it felt like somebody died. At the time, Andy, who, shockingly wasn't in touch with my emotions, asked me why I was felt this way. I told him I was so upset because I felt like I was leaving my family. I can still remember, clear as day, when I gave my resignation. I had just taken a ride in the Oscar Meyer wiener hot dog mobile (Yeah I know I had an awesome job) and I felt incredibly sick to my stomach. I went home that night and cried like somebody died. I remember Andy asking me why I was so upset and I wasn’t sure how to articulate it. Looking back now I better understand why I had such a visceral reaction to leaving my employer. I think part of it was because it was my first real job. I think …

It's Complicated. It Doesn't Have To Be.

I was preparing dinner the other night. I still had my coat on and I was balancing a cat dish in one hand and a frozen pot pie in the other when Charlotte came into the kitchen. She had been in her room changing into her pj's. She pranced into the kitchen wearing only her favoritest undies- with the words SUNDAY emblazoned on the rump. She called out my name and I distractedly and tiredly looked in her direction, making eye contact. "Mom," she asked me, grabbing the soft, doughy skin above her waistband, "am I fat?" I dropped to my mental knees. I barely knew what night it was, I actually couldn't have told you in that moment what town Andy was working in on that particular evening, and all I wanted to do was take my bra off and her question stopped me in my tracks. I looked at her again, really taking in her body. Her beautiful, perfect body. I have loved her body during every stage of growth- from a chubby baby legs and round bottom to the freckle on her…