The Baby Shower That Undid Me

One would not usually consider feeling overwhelmed at a baby shower - just maybe you might think differently after hearing Sage's tale.

Lately Sage had begun to notice the avarice in the — how people seemed consumed by materialism, addicted to commercialism and anything that would keep them distracted from the troubling thoughts simmering just below the surface of their consciousness.

Who wants to admit their life is a mess? Who would willingly put their hand up and say, “My life is a mess and I’ve only myself to blame?”

Or personally acknowledge pain so deep it gnaws at your innards, twisting the stomach into a tight, unforgiving knot. A body that should feel supple, agile and comfortable to inhabit becomes a place of disturbance, distrust and discomfort. Yet the wearer of that body grows used to these feelings and might even go so far as to call them normal.

Sage certainly had.

The modern mind requires distraction — quick satisfaction, outside motivation and constant stimulation.

Sage had experienced all of these things herself, for life is a journey towards evolution for some and devolution for others… or so it seemed.

She considered herself one of the lucky ones, managing to weave her way through the muddle that is life and the cunning tricks of the mind. Sometimes she wished she hadn’t “evolved” quite so much. Life had been much easier when the entertainment was done for her and she didn’t have to entertain herself by travelling the spiralling roads of her own mind.

Today, however, her head was spinning.

She had attended a family baby shower and the experience had left her feeling as though she were sliding down a greasy spiral, desperately trying to cling on so she wouldn’t fall into an abyss of mental goo.

She hadn’t wanted to go but had relented, worried about upsetting family members. Now she realised the folly of that choice. If she was honest, chickening out would have come with a hefty price tag — explaining that such events made her uncomfortable, and possibly appearing as though she were judging others.

Maybe she was.

The grand event left her feeling rejected, misunderstood, incredulous, amused and judgemental — all at once. No wonder she felt she was losing her grip on the spiral.

The worst feeling of all was that she felt like an alien at the event — literally as though she belonged on another planet. Despite the room being filled with family members, a sharp, stabbing realisation dawned on her:

These were not her people.

This is a lot for anyone to process, and I’m sure the reader is wondering where this is going. Hang in there.

Isn’t it strange to celebrate a baby that hasn’t yet arrived? Sage remembered her mother saying it was unlucky to celebrate a birthday early — let alone the healthy, safe arrival of a precious child.

Then there was the mountain of gifts.

The mum-to-be sat in an armchair while the pile towered precariously beside her. Sage chuckled to herself.

“I hope she’s insured. If those presents fall on her it’ll take days to dig her out.”

Then there was the embarrassing misunderstanding of the candles.

Sage had positioned herself in a corner, as far away from the gift unwrapping as possible, when a lady approached carrying a small box of tea lights. She instructed Sage to take one and light it for Hazel.

Sage assumed it was in remembrance of someone and began rummaging in her handbag for a donation.

In hushed tones — so the mum-to-be wouldn’t hear — the lady corrected her. The baby’s name was going to be Hazel, and the mother expected all the guests to light a candle and pray for her when she went into labour.

Sage was incredulous.

Surely even celebrities didn’t expect this level of ceremony when they gave birth.

Still, not wishing to cause a fuss, she dutifully took a candle and slipped it into her bag — feeling rather foolish for misunderstanding. Not that she had any intention of lighting it, let alone bringing her day to a complete standstill at some future moment to pay homage to a woman giving birth.

There was more. Much more.

But time — and the risk of boring the reader — must prevail.

The aftermath of this strange event resulted in Sage gossiping about it with a few close friends, and she didn’t do so kindly. No, she regaled them with outrage and indignation, speaking of the others at the party as though they belonged in a mental institution.

And if she was being completely honest, she revelled in the gasps her gossip provoked.

The dilemma for Sage now was this:

She saw life as a spiral. She had fought long and hard to move upwards along it, and now she had slid down so fast she felt as though her knickers had ridden up and knotted around her throat.

One minute she believed she was making progress in understanding how life should be lived.

The next minute she was doing the exact opposite.

Sage is a slow learner and still strives for perfection, not realising that perfection is never to be had.

Perhaps the spiral of life doesn’t punish our slips after all — it simply brings us back to the same lesson until we can laugh at ourselves for learning it again.