In 5 hours, it will be time for my/our baby shower. Gifts have been arriving by post (of all sorts), all week, and thank you notes have been flying back out the door.
In the midst of all of the disruption and distress of last week, my family pulled together to support my mom in getting ready for the baby shower. I went over yesterday afternoon and lay on the couch while various members of my family shuffled through to visit with me. Luckily my mom lives less than 5 minutes away, so going to her couch to rest is within my treatment plan.
I've noticed wee wisps of magical thinking sneaking in over the last few days--fears that having a baby shower will somehow doom the pregnancy. Ugh. I hate those thoughts. And I know that's just what they are: thoughts, not predictions. And yet, the hyper-vigilance with which I check the TP or count the BH contractions shows me I'm still trying to control the outcome of this pregnancy by curtailing my own happiness.
So I'm not, curtailing my own happiness that is. I'm am happy, and excited, and really looking forward to my one and only baby shower, a day we have worked towards for 4 long years. It is so much more to me than a party to prepare for the boys, it's a celebration of our persistence, our love, and our resiliency.