Here’s a little about my time in New York.
My friends were amazing.
Two of my friends organized a shower for me. They spent way too much money (my mom and mother-in-law helped with the financial part, too) but more overwhelmingly they also spent way too much time and effort.
Both women are very busy professionals and yet they made this amazing brunch for me. One of my friends was especially driven to make everything perfect. She claims there is a “mother network” and that mothers talk…and she would not want to embarrass her mother by throwing a less than fabulous shower.
So, she baked a 3-D rubber ducky cake. For the first time.
She baked cupcakes.
She (and her poor husband) cut thousands of rubber ducky confetti.
I also stayed with this friend several nights. She would not allow me to sleep on the perfectly comfy pull out couch. Instead, she and her husband camped out there and made me take their bedroom! I tried to insist–her husband goes to work early and should wake up in his own bed!!!
They joked that they are responsible for me–and my husband knows how to use weapons. They also insisted that a pregnant woman should sleep in a bed.
They gave me mini quality toiletries–which they urged me to keep. A bottle of lemon water by the bed, too. I felt like I was staying in a four star hotel. I’d say five, but I have no experience for comparison.
They took me out to expensive restaurants and would only let me pay for pizza, take-in Turkish, and a couple of cabs.
Frankly, I am just indebted that they allow me to stay with them and spend so much time with me.
I felt a little awkward. I would always be happy to host my friends, but I would probably not be so extravagant with the extras…and I certainly would not kick my husband out of his own bed when a perfectly acceptable alternative existed.
All the more uncomfortable because, although my friends have a lot of income, I know they have a lot of debt and pay a high rent. I know that these are their choices and I’m not judging them, but I feel bad that they spent so much on me given that situation.
I constantly had to explain that I was pregnant, not disabled or impoverished. Still, they insisted.
After a week of this princess treatment, I had to return to ordinary life in Texas…which was both a relief in a way and a let down.