Chris and I were attempting to maintain some semblance of a life by going to a house party: all I wanted to do was pour a pot of boiling hot water mixed with Purell down my throat in hopes that it would "kill everything evil" that was crapping down my throat and all over my life, but we went out anyway. Since I was feeling terrible and possibly contagious I opted for wallflower status as I politely made small talk from a distance and counted down the seconds until I could be home in bed. I believe Chris was downstairs playing beer pong, he somehow managed to escape Step Throat Fall 2012 unscathed, jerk.
As I walked around the party, I noticed a pocket of party goers in the living room: all pregnant. They sat in a circle, drinking herbal tea, rubbing their bellies in that way that only pregnant women can and talking about EVERYTHING gestation centric. I watched from a distance and anthropologically observed like I was writing a paper on female bonding among pregnant women in their early thirties.
Since I was the first person in my group of Toronto friends to have kids and was carrying twins, I often considered myself a bit of a pregnancy unicorn. Friends who "weren't there yet" in terms of child-rearing would sheepishly ask if they could touch my belly, while they celebrated their freedoms, toasting mixed drinks as I drank Sprite and orange juice and watched my ankles swell. The nearest age of any child in my closer circle of Toronto friends is a year and a half younger than Molly and Jack, which meant that no one was pregnant at the same time as me, not even close.
This is a photo of me when I was 6 months pregnant with the twins...I know what you are thinking and the answer is yes, I always dressed that fancy.
My friend KJ, lives in the suburbs and has twin boys who are a year older than Molly and Jack. I would call her up every time I had a panic attack to find out whether or not the insanity my body was facing was just a normal part of twin pregnancy or if I needed to haul a$$ to my doctor; but these were whispered calls during nap or Google chats, while she tried to navigate the early days of twin parenthood. I guess what I'm saying is there was no communal tea sipping or belly rubbing involved - it was all panic based reactive situations where she had to talk me down from the ledge. That being said I was enthralled with this grouping of gestating women. Since I didn't join any mom groups, multiple or otherwise, until post-pregnancy their was no blessing* of mothers to commiserate with.
A year later I was at another party, with a different group of friends and a similar circle of mama bears formed in the living room, drinking herbal tea and lovingly rubbing their bellies. I watched for a few minutes before I went and played figurative beer pong (drank copious amounts of rum punch).
Sometimes I lament on how I missed out on this nesting right of motherhood among my peers, that I somehow was robbed of this right of passage.
A few weeks ago I was at a birthday party for my friend's one year old and a grouping of parents (some friends, some acquaintances) stood in a basement supervising their children while they attempted to scarf down their own lunch, all while simultaneously feeding their offspring and quashing any toddler/child related hi jinx and shenanigans.
Someone I knew a long time ago once described your wedding party as a snapshot in time...I guess the same can be said about these random celebrations** of pregnant women. In the end, one day, we'll all be in a basement, scrubbing orange sauce off the floor while my son acts like I've stabbed him in the heart because I made the fatal mistake of cutting a meatball in half so he wouldn't choke on it.
To all you pregnant ladies, sipping your tea and rubbing your bellies, enjoy this warm decaffeinated moment, even though I know your feet hurt. Savour it because it's probably one of the last hot beverages you're going to enjoy at its intended temperature. I'll see you in the basement in a few months, I'm the one covered in red sauce trying to put a meatball back together.
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*Name for a grouping of unicorns.
**Did you know that a grouping of polar bears is called a celebration? Me neither.
I can say I was right there with you, I too was the only one having babies when I did ;) and by the time all of my friends were on their first, I was on my 3rd.. hahaha.. I didn't get to sit in any circles either. I felt like I missed out on something, but now when they're going through something that's a " been there done that " moment... I can just laugh at them ;) ( yes I know I'm mean. )
ReplyDeleteI was just thinking this last week, but about all the first time mom's getting together with their (ONE) little six month olds. Now that I'm back at work, I feel like I definitely missed out on the bonding that my friends are having now, because I was about a year and a half ahead of everyone else, and I had twins, so things like "Mommy and Me Music Class" was just not in the cards. I tell myself that while I didn't get to bond with my friends, I DID get to bond with my kids, because we weren't out socializing as much.
ReplyDeleteI remember being so excited when I found a 1980s music themed aerobics class where you wore your baby while you sweated to the Bangles and Prince, they even offered me a free spot for a friend to wear one of my babies so I could attend, but they were only offered 9-5 during the week when all of my friends and Chris were working. I was so disappointed!
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