The Shower

I think I've mentioned my firstborn's Godmother in a previous post (I'm too lazy to link it). L likes to call her "Fairy Godmother." Apparently, we haven't covered the Sacrament of Baptism very well. But, isn't it so much more endearing to think of a magical person in your life who could turn a pumpkin into a coach if you just so happened to need a ride to the Ball?

Godmother and I met our first semester of college. I transferred to a different school, against her advice (she was right, BTW), but we kept in touch. After college, we experienced about two years of scattered communication, but we quickly picked up where we left off once we lived in the same state again. Godmother has helped me through my mom's cancer, my own marital woes, my previous pregnancies, and countless other life situations.

Godmother married for the first time nearly one year ago. She sacrificed a lot to marry the man she loves. She's a city girl. She likes independent restaurants, boutique shops, and Trader Joe's. Godmother moved to South Dakota without a complaint because her husband has three children from a previous marriage. Godmother would never consider uprooting her husband from his shared custody arrangement with his ex-wife, who lives in the same South Dakota town. So, now Godmother lives in the land of Applebee's, Olive Garden, and Chili's. No Trader Joe's. No Whole Foods. Godmother is happy (although, she pretty much wipes out TJ's inventory everytime she gets the chance).

Godmother, thankfully, was able to get pregnant soon after getting married. She and I were due less than one month apart from each other. Godmother was one of the first people to show her love when I lost E. She volunteered to drive from South Dakota to take care of my other children. She was desperate to do ANYTHING for me.

After first losing E, I didn't think too much about the fact that Godmother would give birth eventually. To a healthy baby. A healthy baby who was supposed to be the same age as my healthy baby, E. Godmother wasn't showing that much when I lost E. And, frankly, I think I was pretty much oblivious to anything, other than my next breath. I vaguely recall feeling Godmother's "bump" when she came to see me. And, I was happy for her.

Now. Now, I feel terrified. I'm terrified that I've shut Godmother out. I'm terrified that E's due date is quickly coming up, which means Godmother's baby is also on its way. I want to feel happy for Godmother. Just happy. Not jealous. Not sick to my stomach that E died. Not depressed.

The other day, I got an invitation in the mail. I knew it was coming because I got a "save the date" type email at least a month ago. It's an invitation for Godmother's SURPRISE baby shower. WTF? Sorry. But, who throws surprise baby showers anyhow? Maybe I'm out of the loop here. But, when I'm uncomfortably pregnant, I like to know what my days will hold. I don't need some flippin' surprise when I'm suffering from horrible heartburn and desperately need a nap. Maybe that's just me.

Anyway, I think I would have been prepared for a baby shower. It's Godmother's first baby. I could have talked to Godmother and told her that I just couldn't handle a baby shower. I will handle seeing her baby, lavishing her with presents, etc., etc. But, now that the shower is a surprise, I look like a chump. I'm just a no-show.

Godmother will have every right to hate me. She's always been there for me. Why can't I muster up enough courage to travel four hours to South Dakota and endure a stupid little shower?