I went to Joanna’s baby shower today. She’s due at the beginning of June. Watching her open all the wonderful gifts, I thought back to the baby shower my colleagues gave me when I was pregnant with my son, Colby, now 31. I realized that no matter how much the world has changed in three decades, celebrating the imminent arrival of babies is done exactly the same way.
Sure, some of Joanna’s gifts were newfangled inventions for today’s new moms, including a fabric contraption with Velcro to swaddle the baby and a breastfeeding pillow to nestle him and free Joanna’s arms. But the onesies, the books (Green Eggs and Ham), the booties and the wooden pull toys are as pure and warm and charming as they were when Colby was a babe.
Joanna’s friends buzzed about the same things my friends and I buzzed about back in the day: how unreal it all seems, how soft the baby towels feel and how much her baby will love the Itsy Bitsy Spider song (one of Joanna’s friends creatively stamped out the words on a poster-sized piece of paper and framed it.)
Today had even more meaning because Joanna and my son, Colby, are close friends. Someday their children will have babies and they’ll likely be as nostalgic as I am right now. FOF nostalgia, let’s call it.