having a baby
I Will Totally Come To That Baby Shower You’re Throwing Yourself
I hate baby showers. I find them terribly obnoxious in almost all of their reincarnations, whether it’s the kind where I have to eat fake poop out of a diaper, guess what kind of junk your fetus is sporting, or try to pretend to give a shit what you’re naming your kid. If you invite me to one where the honoree is the grandmother, I will laugh in your face.
And yet, I go to them with a happy face on, because your baby shower is not about me or how I feel about baby showers. It’s about you and this multipack of onesies you wanted that I got for you.
One taboo around baby showers is the idea that it is very rude to throw one for yourself. I disagree. I will totally come to that baby shower you’re throwing yourself, as long as you promise it will be a one off, and the only shower you’re getting. Let me explain.
Part of my hatred for showers stems from my own baby shower-it was awful. Everyone–which included a ton of college randos I never met before–drank except for me, and every once in awhile someone would toss me a child’s toy that they picked up at the Dollar Store or some off brand baby crap like Jamesons&Jamesons Baby Shampee.
It wasn’t my friend’s fault. And yes, that’s singular, because being pregnant is like magical friend repellent in college. Spray on some eau de bebe, and watch your friends just melt away! Just to beef up the guest list she had to invite people neither of us knew, all in the spirit of making me feel supported.
But the support just wasn’t really there, not matter how hard she tried. Except for her and my husband, I was pretty much on my own.
A lot of people I know grow up and never leave their hometowns. It’s easy to get someone to volunteer to throw you a shower, and even easier to scrape together a few people who don’t mind betting on your due date while eating lil’ smokies if you never leave the place you’re from. Not everybody has that. Not everyone has a family that gives any shits whether or not they are pregnant. Not everybody has a group of tight besties just waiting to throw them the most annoying, gift-grubbingest shindig you ever did see.
Even I, who should know better at this point, am a crap, flaky friend who will turn to one of my pregnant biffies and go, “Oh yeah, sure, I’ll throw you a shower…just tell me what you want and who should be there and if there’s a theme and what you want the invitations to look like and actually, you know what? This is going to suck, I’m just warning you right now. I’m sorry. I love you.”
So if you are doing this terrifying baby thing solo, or have a terrible friend like me, or just know that you’ll never experience this rite of passage unless you do it yourself, invite me. I will come, and I wont judge you, and I’ll buy you that multipack of onesies that you wanted.