I Will Never Again Be a Bridesmaid.

I overheard some people discussing an upcoming wedding.

The woman was going to be a bridesmaid, having just recently gotten married herself. She and her husband are young, perhaps in their mid-twenties, and they have no idea what’s coming – or how fast it’s going to come.

I had a series of related thoughts:

I will never again be a bridesmaid.

Hopefully, I will never again be a bride. 

I will never again have a baby, or a baby shower, or any of the things that come with giving birth.

I will never again be pregnant or breastfeed a baby.

In fact, my babies are almost grown. I will never have another child in elementary school.

I am old. I gave birth later in life, so it’s likely that I’ll be a very, very old grandmother – if I survive to be a grandmother at all.

I don’t have the luxury of waiting for grandbabies.

I rarely get invited to weddings, or baby showers, or kids’ birthday parties anymore.

I often find myself at funerals.

No one is asked to be a bridesmaid at a funeral. There are no squeals of delight there, like there are at baby showers. There is a lot of silence.

Sometimes there is laughter.

I hope there is laughter at my funeral.

I hope people remember my wedding, my baby shower, and those precious years when the babies were young and I was fat and all I cared about was staring at their little faces.

It’s still all I care about, although my kids are irritated now when I stare at them.

I am not sure that anything I did before giving birth mattered very much, if at all.

I am sure that people who don’t have children don’t understand this, even a little bit.

And I’m not sure I’m right.

But I am sure about the laughter.

I hope there will be laughter.

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