Oh dear, truly, I wasn't feeling sad about a lack of presents, honest! I just was feeling envious and blue about other people's experiences - the woman in my department who had a baby yesterday, both sides of her family waiting eagerly in the waiting room. Maven's pictures of family and friends passing the baby around, clearly so happy she is here. My boss who said her girlfriends threw her a shower by showing up one afternoon and by the time they left, her entire nursery went from bare to furnished, decorated, and done. It's my own choices that have brought me here, where I am friendly enough with people, chat in class, eat lunch together...but I'm not exactly surrounded by a circle of love or anything.
My Mom, who has a job and a very active life and who is a really great person so I don't fault her at all, has started to do that Thing that we do. A few months ago it was all "I'm coming out when the baby is born". Then it was "Do you really want me to come out?" and out of politeness I reply, "If it's not a good time, don't worry" and we do this whole feeling each other out and trying to determine what the other means and wants. At the present time, there is no plan for her to visit. I see exactly how and why we do this - I look at her and her Mom and their complicated and extremely polite on the surface relationship - and I know deep down we all love each other very much but it just doesn't come out the way "typical" people express their family love.
Again, it's all my own choices that have me thousands of miles away from people who might bring one of those damn mylar balloons to the hospital. I can't expect my sister who has kids and a nursing job and a HUGE fear of flying to uproot and come out. And I'm fine with my in-laws choosing to come visit in the summer instead, believe me. I will send friends digital photos and pithy updates and for a minute in their day they might wonder aloud "Wow, now she is a Mom" and continue on. It could be lonelier. Many women don't have a Mom or a sister or people cheering them on, even from a distance and when I think of them, I shiver a little, sad for them. Because, as sappy as it sounds, this is a Big Deal. Bigger than I'm letting myself really acknowledge. I see AH and other people who don't have perfect families or friends but who somehow have gone through life feeling self-confident and sure that yes, there is always someone who will be there for them. They don't have that bone-deep loneliness or uncertainty about their importance in the world or to their family that I guess I'll be lugging to the grave if it hasn't dissipated by now. And it feels like the biggest gift I could give this kid is that - not pretty blankets or onesies or a new crib - but coming into the world surrounded by love and loved ones. To be passed around and cooed over and welcomed. To be told he or she is important and valued from Day One. A circle of love maybe, rather than a triangle of love, because a circle holds more and doesn't have the pointy edges. Because I bet at some level, a baby could feel that. And maybe be a better, happier person one day, than I can be - not so afraid or self-contained or "independent" or uncertain or polite. And that is why I am sad sometimes.