The highlight of today was the baby shower I went to.
It was also the lowlight. Or whatever.
I love babies. I love my dear friend/boss for whom the shower was being held. I loved seeing all the wonderful gifts she got and yes, every single time she held up footie pajamas or little plastic bowls or bibs or whatever, I went, "Awwwwwwww!" right along with all the other women in the room.
But baby showers, like everything else related to babies, make my heart hurt. They make my heart physically ache.
Because I want a baby more than anything. More. Than. Anything.
I know, I know. I have two beautiful children. I'm lucky. I'm selfish. Blah, blah, blah. I know all the mean, ugly things that anyone could possibly say to me when I dare to feel sad for myself.
Because, honestly? I feel cheated.
Ever since I was a small child, I wanted nothing more than to be a mother. You know how your teacher asks you what you want to be when you grow up and you say, "A nurse!" or "A teacher!" or "A super secret agent man!" or whatever? I would always say, "A mother." Because that's what I wanted to be. That's all I could ever imagine I could be.
As I got older, I realized I wanted a family. I wanted people who would be my people. People who I could come home to. People who would love me unconditionally and not judge me.
So I, being smart and all, married someone who DIDN'T love me. And then got pregnant so I would have someone to love me. Because I'm a genuis.
I don't want to tell the whole story. It's long and tiresome. The upshot was, I had preemie twins. By that time, the husband was long gone.
I dreamed that I would find someone who would love me and love my children and want to have a child with me so I could...be normal. I wanted to be normal. I would go to the doctor's office when I was pregnant with my twins and there would be all these women in the doctor's office with their husbands. The husbands would sit and hold their wives hands or rub their bellies or carry their purses. I had no one.
I went into the hospital right before I had my children and there was another girl who was admitted at the same time as me. She and I were talking a little and I told her I was expecting twins. Her husband showed up. Then her parents. Then her sister and brother-in-law. Finally her inlaws. She had seven people standing around her. We were separated by a curtain. I heard her say, "That girl in there, she's expecting twins." All of her relatives said the usual things like, "Oh wow! Twins!" She then said, "She's all alone."
I was so ashamed. Good Lord. I was so ashamed. I was so completely, utterly, painfully alone.
I swore to myself, much like Scarlett O'Hara or some crap (I am Southern after all), "As God as my witness, I will be normal someday!"
I turned 31 in October.
I don't have a baby.
I'm never going to have a baby.
I'm never going to be normal.