I am not.
I considered it today though. A coworker informed me that we are having a little shower luncheon next week to celebrate my new baby-to-be and me. I don't know why it made me so uncomfortable, but it did. So, I thought to myself... how do I handle this? I can't just sit here and seem awkward and cold. Why shouldn't I be an excuse to party? I love parties. It's just the gift part that makes me uneasy.
Can I just be honest and say "Hey, listen... this is baby #3 and we have everything we need. If you're dying to get me something or just don't like to show up empty handed, lime-a-ritas and diapers will not go to waste in our house." I mean, it's an August baby in Florida and I'm a working mom. Yes, I'll take great care of my newborn and will use my brief leave period to bond with her. However, some of that bonding time will occur while floating in my pool with a frosty beverage and she'll spend most of it loading her pants. It's the only "vacation" I'm getting this year since Florida, unfortunately, is not one of the few states that requires paid maternity leave. Thankfully, it is one of those states where they sell alcohol at Target... so, maybe I will stop in and point the scanner gun at some of my favorite flavors and various boxes of diapers this weekend. Actually, that might be more Walmart appropriate. It might even earn me an internet shaming. Damn it, never mind.
We had a totally cool and progressive shower with our first child nine years ago. It was a coed BBQ pool party organized by my friends and brother and attended by family, friends, and coworkers. We were extremely blessed and received so many amazing gifts and had such a nice time with all of these people that were so eager to do nice things for us and so excited for our new adventure. We had registered, and as first time parents, we clicked off on all of the things that the experts said we should have. Our little boy was going to be the best dressed, warmest, healthiest, most intellectually stimulated, grass-fed, humidified, spotless, germless little butterball that ever crawled the earth. Then he arrived; wearing size 3 month clothing, diaper size 1-2, accepting and collapsing whatever shaped bottle nipple or pacifier was waved within five feet of him, sweating like Chris Farley in even the lightest receiving blanket, and allergic to 95% of hygiene products on the market. So much for the organic plant-based toiletries, the size newborn anything and the top of the line bottle collection. Regardless, we had everything we needed and then some, largely due to the generosity of our friends and family.
Along came our second child. We were living in the Chicago area temporarily. We were having another boy. They'd be sharing a room. We had saved some things. We knew what things we didn't use with the first kid. We would be moving back east soon after his birth. We were on a single income. Again, we were blessed to receive thoughtful gifts from family and friends, but we just sort of pieced it together and filled in the blanks. Then the kid came along bigger, sweatier, pickier than the first and, thankfully, with no known allergies. We had what we needed, no more and no less.
So, now we are expecting kid #3, who happens to be girl #1.
She has her own room. It's really our first nursery. We've been buying what we need and what we want for baby L both methodically and impulsively for the last 6 months. It's fun. We disagree on some color and pattern choices here and there, but I love seeing the pure joy my husband experiences in the moment he has completed assembly of some shiny, blingy, bejeweled, bedazzled contraption for his little girl.
I know that in his mind, the second he picked it up off the shelf at Babies R Us, he pictured her smiling and hugging him.
Now, as he stands there pressing the buttons one by one and marveling at the function each elicits; he is holding her while she sleeps peacefully on his strong chest. They are dancing and he is twirling her around. They are walking on the beach hand in hand collecting shells. He is braiding her hair and tying her shoes. He is carefully hand painting her name on the hull of the boat he'll buy when she goes off to college.
He is thinking of the nights he spends crammed into a bunk built for a man half his size, rocking somewhere in rough seas, lonely and tired and counting down the days or months until he sees his children again. He's thinking of the pictures I'll send him of her birthdays and big "firsts" that he might miss and he's thinking of all the things that he will work to provide for her which she'll outgrow while he's on his next deployment. In that moment, he's not thinking about how much it cost or if I approved of the colors. He's thinking, "I gave her this. I built this."
So, it's more than a question of "Is it appropriate to create a registry for second and third children?" Sure, I'll shop off of your registry if you make one. Every baby should be celebrated. Every family has a right to celebrate, and to celebrate however they want to. I guess I'll formulate an automated response to "Have you registered?"
Thank you, but no. My husband and I are just having so much fun doing the whole shopping and prepping thing together. It's a precious time for us as a family given everywhere we've been and everywhere we'll be.
This is a) true and b) a safe cover for the fact that receiving gifts makes me uncomfortable.
If anyone is still not satisfied and will explode if they don't get me something... I was serious about the lime-a-ritas. Oh, the diapers, too.
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