A Beautiful Weekend

Imagine being invited to come and have coffee on a Saturday morning with a couple of friends.

Imagine you accept gleefully because, not only do you like the people who invited you, but you have also been cooped up in the house all week as a result of being hugely pregnant and on "light bed rest".

On Saturday morning you wake up in a crappy mood. You hadn't slept well and your back is hurting.

You think about canceling and staying at home for the morning. You had plans to go shopping in the afternoon and a birthday party in the evening. You think it is probably wise to pace your self.

Then you talk yourself into going because you know getting out will cheer you up.

Your husband offers to walk you over.

That was me Saturday.

I climbed to the fifth floor and knocked on my friend's house, hoping to dash in and grab a glass of water before I sit my out-of-breath self down for a relaxing, easy going, mundane Saturday morning.

The door opens.

I hear people scream "SURPRISE!!!!"

For a split second I am not sure what was going on. My birthday isn't until December. Maybe they were yelling at the wrong person.

I see a video recorder.

I see a camera.

I turn towards my husband for an explanation.

He is laughing and taking pictures.

No.

It. Was. For. Me!

It was a surprise baby shower.

I don't easily cry in front of people. I had to turn around and go for a hug to my husband instead of getting into the apartment as my eyes began to sting from tears.

I felt weak in the knees.

I didn't know what to say.

You have to understand. It was totally and absolutely unexpected. It was a complete surprise. They got me really good.

I received many beautiful gifts. I will not need to go shopping at least for the first three months after the baby arrives. From diapers to baby boppy and everything in between, it was all there lovingly wrapped and with my name on it.

But yet, even though they may not have realized it at the time they planned the baby shower, the greatest gift they gave me is a sense of belonging.

I have always felt deeply about the importance of being part of a community. There have been days when I felt isolated and alone here in China. It comes with the territory of moving away from ones family and friends.

I have been afraid of having a baby here. I didn't want her to be born into a vacuum.... I was afraid there won't be much fanfare when she arrived.

I myself didn't want to face postpartum loneliness. I wanted our baby to be anticipated, born into a place full of love. I wanted her to be touched, held, doted on, not just by her father and I, but by many others.

So many held my son when he was born. I felt those gentle touches blessed him, put him on track for a life of the best kind of indulgence.

Too much love.

I am happy to know my daughter will also have similar kind of reception albeit in a completely different part of the world.

I am grateful to all that made that remote possibility now real.