For years I would attend my book club gatherings with the ladies and be barraged with all the talk about breast feeding, formula feeding, what babysitters to get, what rules to make, about the itty bits of time they had to read (while I always had the book finished and then some).
I would sit huddled around my little plate of goodies (as we always feast well at the butt club -hehe) and listening as my envy would creep higher and higher up the green scale. I think I was so green with envy, it could have been black that’s how dark the green was. I don’t think I was pleasant to be around at the end of some of these gatherings, as so many of the women in our group were found to be pregnant, if they didn’t already have a smattering of kids. There are a few girls in there that are single, and have no intentions of getting married, or pregnant for that matter (at least not yet), but they are few and far between with those women who are mommies.
I felt so alone, and sad in my little corner of non-mommyhood. It’s not that The DOH and I hadn’t been trying. We had. Oh LORD, we had been trying. It wasn’t until the 3rd year that we figured we should see a fertility specialist and I had the whole slew of tests done. We were told by this group that we would have to do the most expensive kind of treatment (IVF) in order to conceive. Sigh… another year goes by. When we heard that the last of our friends in the area was pregnant, The DOH went to a different fertility specialist, as well as I, and we found out that there were some things we could do that weren’t at the grandiose level of IVF (those money hounders- grrr). Again, sigh. Three months later, with the Grace of God!, we were pregnant with Sunshine.
I sit here now and watch her valiantly trying to crawl. She arches her back, gets her feet up… then they slide down. (Damn the satin play mat!) But she is entertained by the cat. She now enters tummy time from her seated position, on her own. It’s the getting out of that position she gets frustrated with.
With all this, I think about the book clubs we have gone to, the ones we didn’t attend. I wonder if there are other women out there who didn’t come to the book club meetings for the same reasons I stopped going for a bit. It is hard, but a person can feel pretty isolated, on their own little island, when the talk centers around only mommyhood. I can see how that happens, as my whole life is Sunshine. In fact, I am now on a totally different inverse of where I once was. When we go out everyone has some kind of work they are doing, be it full time or part time. Maybe other activities (which I do have choir but that is only 1 day a week), and they ask each other about that. I am a stay at home mom now. No work for me. What else do I have to talk about besides Sunshine’s attempts at crawling, her lack of diaper rash, jumperoo time, the foods I am making for her, the antics with the cat and dog, and Sunshine’s “Holy Hell” out bursts?
Thinking about our book club visits, I totally don’t want that for anyone, but can see how it has happened now. I mean, I used to have more in common with all these ladies when I worked. Perhaps, at this next book club meeting, I will try really hard to talk to those who are single and what they are up to. Live vicariously through their single activities, and parties? Talk about work issues that I might have had in common with them at one point? Well, I will try something. I certainly don’t want them feeling like I did. That book club really is “all mommyhood, all the time.” I have three, yes three!, great books to share, so I think I need to go. Yup… I will do it. May have to take some Lorazepam to make it there, but I need to go. I am so going to go. (See, I am talking myself up. Good self-talk, Heather. Good self-talk.) I am even self-talking my self-talk. Wow, I need a nap.
So, my plan is to go to Butt Club (Book Club) with Sunshine on my hip (hehe, on my shoulder) who makes me happy. Some great books to share, and fun times with the ladies.