Friendsgiving

I got ready for the event like I was getting ready for war.  My make-up was war paint.  My clothes were armor.  I took a lot of deep breaths and stalled strategically until I knew that other people would be there already so that I could blend into a crowd, but not so long that she would notice my absence and wonder.

By the way, to those friends who remembered that yesterday would be hard for me and reached out in the morning to let me know they were thinking about me and lending mental support: thank you so much.  It really helped.  I appreciate you guys more than I can say.

When I got there, there were only about five people, several of whom were friends I hadn't seen in a while.  I immediately got into a conversation with one of them which was lovely except that she had recently had a baby and started telling me how tough they are and how I should wait a very long time before I have one.  I put on a tight smile.

Then another friend who had recently had a baby walked in holding her baby.  So the two of them starting talking about labor and epidurals and I subtly backed away in panic.  Someone opened champagne around that point and I pounced on it.  Comments were made about my eagerness.  I ignored them and downed that golden elixir of relaxation like I was running a marathon and it was life-giving water.  And then I transitioned to a conversation with a single friend that I had just recently gotten to meet up with in England.  Hooray!  England!  What a safe topic!

The food was served and I surrounded myself with people of the male variety, which soon made me sincerely contemplate whether conversations about sports were TRULY better than baby talks.  But it was a good move because it got me invited to play a board game that takes about an hour to explain and several more hours to play.  I eyed the females congregating and giggling around the new baby and accepted immediately, even though I have failed miserably at this game before and had a terrible time (it was the Game of Thrones board game, if you're wondering.  Picture Risk, but in Westeros).

Thankfully, we played for the rest of the event.  I got to focus on deploying armies and bidding for the Iron Throne while catching only snatches of the baby talk around me.  I heard the word uterus several times, though.  Each time, it reaffirmed my excellent decision.

All was well as Brother claimed his seventh castle and won the game.  Husband and I announced that we had to go, since a two hour drive was waiting for us, and we said our goodbyes.  I could taste freedom.

But then, of course, CSIL decided to walk us to the car.

I'm very torn about what followed.  We chatted for a bit and she shared some of her struggles.  One of them was weight gain and she called me a skinny bitch, which made me a lot happier than I ever thought that phrase possibly could.  And it was nice to hear a bit about what she's going through and realize that this isn't all sunshine and roses for her either.

But at the same time, a part of me could only hear her saying, "Ugh, you know what sucks?  Being pregnant.  And you know what double sucks?  Being DOUBLE pregnant.  You have noooo idea."  That part of me wanted to scream or slap her and say, "OBVIOUSLY I WOULD TRADE MY SKINNY BODY AND MY LACK OF NAUSEA AND ALL MY MONEY AND BASICALLY ANYTHING ELSE TO HAVE EVEN HALF OF WHAT YOU HAVE.  STOP COMPLAINING."

But it was ok.  Because then I got to leave.  And leaving brought me such intense relief.  I really like feeling of not dreading anything.  It's a rush like no other.  And now I'm free!  Freeeeeee!

...until freaking Thanksgiving. :/