Okay, so I had a kid “later in life”. You know the type where other people, ignorant ones, tell you “oh, I guess he’ll be your only kid” and/or treat you as if you are giving birth to your own grandchild and it’s amazing at all that your uterus is still “youthful” enough to bear fruit.
That said, I’ve also come to realize in my Post 35 years that I don’t really need a “big party” any more. I ran off and got married in Vegas. I didn’t really want the reception we had afterwards – despite it being only a few dozen – I had a nice time, but I could have lived without the expense or pressure. (Hence the Vegas plan) Also, when it came to getting pregnant, it was such a “quiet scream” of excitement to use an oxy moron. I loved that I could whisper to this baby inside of me. I loved the first three months where my husband and I had this wonderful secret.
Now I know, especially in the day and age of Pinterest, that folks want to celebrate every little moment with everyone. I know that Prom went from asking a girl to having to have a Prom-posal, then a thousands of dollars worth of planning and night out. I get it. I mean, those things are fun, and no doubt, I’ll be helping my son plan his own one day if he’d like the assistance and chooses this path.
But for me, I love our little family of three. There’s an excitement about having our time together and knowing what we know. So when it came to announcing our birth, one thing that my “advanced age” did get me was genetic deformation testing that confirmed 100% the gender of our kid, even before the day we were “supposed to” tell people. So we did, via the ever “make it official” Facebook platform.
That said. I’ve been to a few gender reveal parties. They’re nice to go to like any other “let’s get together” event. I mean, your friends are there, there’s cake, whoooo. But for me, I think we’re starting (as a society) to perpetuate the idea that every moment has to be a big one. I remember, back in the day (or what was known as the early millenium), we’d just get pregnant, tell friends an family on the phone/email/in person at the 12 week mark and then somewhere in there you’d have a shower, then a baby was here, and bam, Parenthood.
Now, you have to announce the baby, then guess it’s gender, then shower, then sip and see the baby. I mean, I love a good celebration too, but man, that’s alot of pressure on a new mom who’s trying to literally balance a kid on one boob while learning how to not screw him up mentally. Perhaps I’m just being awful – those events are fun, and they are fun for the folks who want to do them and throw them and celebrate. But as Amy Poehler says about Motherhood in her book Yes, Please, “Good for her. Not for me.”
I’m just not an open presents in front of others person. I’m not a center of attention person that I might have been as a kid. Now I’m the one who wants to make the event, and let others be lauded. I just perhaps am being a party pooper because I don’t like being the partied one. But after all of the things life presents to celebrate, sometimes I think, it may be best to “go big or go home” only part of the time.
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