And “sprinkles” (those mini showers for second or third or fourth children). And gender reveal parties. Did you hear about the gender reveal party with pyrotechnics that sparked a massive wildfire? It’s a horrific tragedy that, in my mind, showcases the ridiculousness of these events.
Whenever I hear of these parties or, God forbid, am invited to one, my traumatized self protests, “PREGNANCY IS NOT A GAME, PEOPLE!” That’s the crux of it. Baby showers make it seem like pregnancy is all fun and games. For me, it was never fun and games.
My first pregnancy was ectopic (stuck in my fallopian tube), which led to emergency surgery to save my life. My second pregnancy was a long and drawn-out miscarriage. My third got to 17 weeks before my son’s heart abruptly stopped without explanation. My fourth was another ectopic pregnancy. My fifth was completely complication-free and led to the birth of my daughter (whose arrival was not preceded by a shower of any kind).
In the midst of my losses, I attempted to attend one baby shower and felt like fire ants were crawling on my skin the entire time. After that, I declined. Sometimes, I straight-up lied about why I couldn’t go: I’m tending to my dog after his eye surgery, sorry. Sometimes, if I knew the person well, I explained that it was just too hard for me.
Now that I have my daughter, I think people expect that I’m “over” my aversion to baby showers (in the same way they expect that I’m “over” my losses). Grief doesn’t work like that. I’ll always carry the losses of my babies with me, and I’ll always get a stomach ache at the thought of attending a baby shower. It’s too weird for me to be around everyone laughing and smashing chocolate bars in diapers and guessing belly circumference for fun and prizes. I think, How can these people make light of something so serious? Don’t they know what can go wrong? I’m horrified at the idea of amassing gifts for an unborn baby. I’m unnerved by happy-go-lucky pregnant women drinking virgin margaritas. Somewhere, deep inside, I believe in the concept of jinx.
When I was in the thick of my losses, I told myself not to feel guilty about declining invitations: You have to do what you have to do. I carry that sentiment with me to this day. I have to do what I have to do. And, for me, that sometimes still means RSVP-ing “no” to baby showers.
This post was written by Kim Hooper, with content excerpted from All the Love: Healing Your Heart and Finding Meaning After Pregnancy Loss.
