The email from Amazon was titled “Oops! We’re sorry, we made a mistake!”
I didn’t even have to open the email before the tears began. To my credit, I didn’t cry much. Just for a moment.
Several hours earlier I had an email from Amazon stating that a gift from my baby registry had been purchased and was on its way. I had no idea at the time it was an error or that thousands of other customers had received the same email, whether they had baby registries or not. Many of these men and women took to social media to tweet or post a hilarious quip about how they had no idea they were pregnant. Haha.
I however, am pregnant, and I was thrilled that someone thought of me and found my registry.
Until the next email arrived. Because you see I made that registry of 15 things on a hope and prayer, knowing full-well that no one would look for it.
Nearly all my friends disappeared during my first pregnancy and by the time my daughter was born I wasn’t even speaking to most of my family. When my daughter was an infant we were left completely alone. No help, no friends.
Besides my mother, mom-in-law and sister, over a dozen girls were invited to my baby shower. Only 1 came. I got 3 texts the day before bailing for various reasons, 1 text the morning of saying a guy she liked wanted to take her to lunch and she couldn’t turn down the opportunity and 5 never RSVPed in any way.
My amazing best friend and his wife, who threw the shower, went all out with a pickles and ice cream bar, crafts and activities and too many gifts. Thankfully I had begged my sister to bring her husband and had forced my father and father-in-law to also attend. So at least there were a few people to eat the food.
Do I even have to say that not one of these girls I had been so close to before reached out when my daughter was born? No one came to see us. No meal train, no supportive texts.
Most of my closest friends in my life have been guys. I’m that girl. And those guys have gone on to have serious girlfriends or wives who apparently don’t like their man having a close female friend. So when I moved back to Nashville 7 years ago I reconnected with a few childhood girlfriends and found a new little pack of bar-hopping and gala-attending cohorts that I spent all of my time with.
None of these girls have kids. At the time none of them were married yet, even though we were all closing in on 30. Somehow, I missed the best-friend train where packs of girls bond permanently and hit every milestone together. They are still planning girl’s weekends on the Gulf Coast and Bachelorette parties at far-off spas. Motherhood didn’t mesh.
My mother had felt that since my sister was engaged, I shouldn’t have family baby showers or even attend my sister’s wedding showers so as to not take away the spotlight. By the time my mom rethought this and said she may have overreacted it was too late for me to fly. So I never saw any extended family while I was pregnant at all. I got packages and gifts and gift cards. Which were wonderful and appreciated, but no one was there.
Funnily enough, I found out I was pregnant with baby number 2 just 6 weeks after my sister found out she was expecting her first. So last weekend I flew across the country, hugely pregnant, for her baby shower, thrown by my cousins and aunts. One of my aunts pulled me aside to ask if I wanted anything for this baby and mentioned she didn’t want to make a big deal since it was my sister’s time.
I absolutely wanted my sister to have a big blow-out shower. I want everyone to be super excited for her. She deserves it! But to be a little self-involved for a moment- what about me? What about my baby? Now I’m on baby 2. Way less exciting than a first baby. Why must it be just 1 at a time?
For a few glorious hours, I thought maybe a loved one had thought of me, had wished they could celebrate with me. Wished they could hug me and play silly baby-themed games. Then “Oops, we’re sorry, we made a mistake.”
I’m so incredibly lucky to have the world’s most supportive husband and a perfect, adorable toddler. But transitioning to motherhood has made me very, very lonely – and totally overlooked.
So I cried.
Because I miss my old friends who dropped me like a bad habit. I wish I had insisted that I get an actual shower or at least attend my sister’s wedding showers and get some hugs and talk babies with my family. I wish I hadn’t been so sad and angry that I wasn’t able to make new mom friends – maybe I’d have girls to celebrate with now. I cried because making a registry is supposed to be a blast. Because getting a gift notification is Amazon’s cute way to get you even more excited about sweet, tiny, baby gear and upcoming showers.
Unless they make an “oops.”
I’m Megan Whitaker. I’m a pregnant mommy living in Nashville TN with my husband and 2 year old daughter –>and 3 chickens. I’m a RN turned total hippie and I write about parenting and natural, holistic living at www.goingcrunchynotcrazy.com. You can see our adventures at www.instagram.com/goingcrunchynotcrazy