Birthday Blues

     So, yesterday my mom and I went to a Just Between Friends consignment sale event in town. I know there are a lot of items I cannot purchase right now (like a car seat or clothing) because I do not know the age of the child we will be adopting. But, I thought I could at least get a crib. So, I was a little late getting there and my mom was waiting impatiently. She was pissy because she had to wait for me. So, we were starting this adventure off on the wrong foot. She snapped at me about being late and that they were letting people in earlier (to which, I said we were not allowed in until 5 and it was only a few minutes after 5, but she insisted that was not true – whatever). We were there as first-timers for the pre-view sale, so it was not a crazy mob like it will be this afternoon and tomorrow. Outside of the main room there were strollers and car seats. Inside the large warehouse were the other items. Rows upon rows upon rows of clothing. Many tables of toys. Bouncy seats, high chairs, pack-n-plays, infant items, etc. And, a sea of pregnant bellies. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me ahead of time, but literally everyone (except me, my mom and some of the other grandma’s) was visibly pregnant or carrying an infant. I had a visceral reaction when I stepped inside. My eyes welled up with tears, my throat tightened, my stomach clenched and I wanted to run screaming for the car. I had a “what-am-I-doing!!” thought. I literally felt ill, dizzy even. I felt like a fish out of water, desperately gasping for air and flopping futilely on the ground. “I do not belong here,” I thought to myself. I have never felt like such an interloper in my life. I knew, at any moment, someone would call me out as a fake. What was I thinking? I don’t belong in the mommy club. 
     I fought through these feelings and stumbled after my mother to the area where it looked like they had cribs. Instead, there were bassinets and changing tables. They had toddler beds but no cribs. We searched in vain for cribs and my mom kept pointing something out that I “might” need, but “you don’t know because if it’s a toddler, you won’t need it.” I felt like Hester Prynne, shamefully wearing my scarlet letter for all the world to see. We left empty handed and I cried all the way home.
     My 30th birthday is in two days. My period is due in two days. I’m not sure which I am dreading more. I thought, rather than sit home alone and feel sorry for myself, I would invite out all my favorite people to a local tapas lounge to hang out for my birthday. Really, I was hoping my sister and mom would throw me a huge birthday bash, but that was wishful thinking. So, apparently everyone and their mother is getting married this Saturday. I know at least 5 people I invited who are going to a wedding. Others simply cannot make it (and I know some friends who are far away cannot make it but I already knew they could not, I just wanted them to know they were special to me by sending them the invitation). I am thinking about canceling the whole dam thing and reverting back to my original plan of extreme intoxication in the solitude and comfort of my own home. I don’t want to be thirty. I feel like I have relatively little to show for the 30 years I have been on this earth. I know celebrating another birthday is better than the other alternative. I know some friends who would have loved to see their brothers celebrate their 30th birthdays. But, I am struggling so much with this birthday. Everyone well over 30 makes light of how I feel. “Oh my god! Thirty is no big deal!! Wait ‘til you hit 50!” or “Thirty is still so young!” Great, these things do not make me feel any better. I wanted to have at least one baby before my 30th birthday. I wanted to be living in my “forever” home – a house I didn’t plan on leaving, with plenty of room for several children and space galore. I thought I would be making more money and have a higher position in my career (that has more to do with the lousy economy) or at least have figured out what I want to do with my life. I am just simply down in the dumps this year. And, I stupidly thought that gathering the people I love around me, would help to ease my birthday distress. Instead, I feel like a heel. And, as childish as it might seem, I feel very unloved and unimportant to the people I consider important in my life. I feel like there is simply no point in even trying to get out of this funk. I mean, even my own husband can’t come! (It is impossible for him to get off of work on a Saturday night). No body likes me, everybody hates me, I guess I’ll go eat some worms.
     This afternoon, after work, I am getting a hair cut. My hair (when pulled straight) is nearly to my waist. I have been growing it out for about two years so that I can donate it to Locks of Love. Initially, I was going to wait to cut it when I got pregnant, but since that is not happening anytime soon, I decided it’s time for the hair to go. My hair is very thick and hard to manage because it is somewhat curly and mostly frizzy. It takes a whole lotta hair gel to keep my hair in place. And it’s so long, that I can’t really even straighten it with the flat iron. So, tonight I am getting it all hacked off. I don’t really like my hair very short because I have a more round face, but it is for a good cause. But, my hair grows fast, so it won’t be short for long. I have done this once before. After college and before I left for the Peace Corps, I got all of my hair cut off. My hair then wasn’t quite as long as it is now, so the new ‘do ended up being just below my ears. I think the cut made me look really young, and not in a good way for a recent college graduate. It was easier to take care of, giving myself bucket baths in Nicaragua, but it was also very, very hot because I could not pull it all back off of my neck. I am thinking about getting a more funky hair cut this time. I am nervous about the new hair cut because I don’t want to hate it (especially, considering how I am already so miserable about my birthday). I guess I will have to wait and see. I trust my hair dresser, she does a good job. And, I have looked at pictures, but I don’t think I want to take one to her because last time I did that (I was in 4th grade) I got a modified mullet (business on top, party in the back). And it’s hard to tell what would work for my hair, because I don’t have 15 hair stylists doing it for me every day. And I have thick, semi-curly hair, so some of the choppy styles won’t work unless I straighten it every day, which is futile when it is humid or rainy (which pretty much describes the month of September with all the rain and flooding we’ve been getting). I think, in some aspects, the hair cut signifies getting rid of some of the dead weight in my life. I am not one who frequently waxes philosophical, but in this instance, cutting my hair just before a birthday I have been dreading, might help me to cut out the feelings of inadequacy in my personal life. It’s like my own private make-over, outside and (hopefully) inside as well. 
     So, on Saturday my mom and sister and I are going to get pedicures, then go to the mall. There is a department store where my mom said she has seen convertible cribs (apparently, she has been looking at cribs since last year – for the love!). With my sister along (my sister is 5 years younger than me and her main concern right now is getting ahead in her career and getting her boyfriend to propose – she is really not into the baby “thing”) this should be interesting. I just hope it is a more fruitful endeavor than yesterday.