I headed home to Ithaca this weekend, to meet Laila and Emily -- babies born four days apart to two of my dearest friends. These lucky girls were the recipients of all the baby stuff in my house before I packed and moved.
It was a whirl-wind weekend of holding babies and having them sleep in my arms, going out for drinks with former work friends, getting frozen yogurt in a Porsche, and celebrating Hope's birthday in exactly the way we would have if I still lived there -- Hope, Heather and me at Viva.
Saturday afternoon with Emily...
At Emily's "welcome to the world" party on Sunday, her grandmother hugged me tight and said, "you'll have this too someday." And right then, I knew. "No I won't." And I won't. I said I wouldn't make a final decision for a year -- and I won't -- but I think I know in my heart, that I don't want to be a 43-year-old single mother to an infant.
It hurt to say good-bye to Emily, and hurt to stay there and continue to stare at her beautiful face. And when Jill's cousin hugged me and said, "this must have been such a hard day for you," it was nice to have someone acknowledge that it was. I hadn't thought about it being hard, but it was.
And so I got out of there, and took a shower back at the hotel, and washed the day away, and waited for a friend to come visit me. We went for a ride in his Porsche and got frozen Greek yogurt with Reese's Pieces and rainbow sprinkles on top.
And when I went to see Laila the next day, there was much less hoopla, much less "all about the baby" talk, and it was very enjoyable, even as I put her in the sleeper rocker that I had bought for New Jersey.
In a lot of ways the weekend was too short -- I didn't get to see everyone. And it was too long -- I'll just leave it at that.
Today, on my bonus day off in PA, I finished unpacking. Finally. I didn't think I would need my over-the-toilet shelf I had in Ithaca, but with a two-bedroom apartment, one does not get the storage space of a two-bedroom townhouse, and so my former neighbor got it out of my place in Ithaca and I picked it up this weekend. My bathroom is "my bathroom" again.
And I was stretched to the limit with my organizational skills, but once again, came out ahead. The closet doors in the second bedroom close, there is a space big enough to buy a full-sized futon for guests (though I had hoped for an actual queen-sized bed), and all the boxes are unpacked. The very last box, which I will use to send a proper baby gift to my friend Kim in Georgia.