What Baby Showers Bring

Another baby shower, mama-to-be aglow, look closer, see how she squirms
Uncomfortable in the spotlight
Awkward, uneasy, unsure yet exclaiming appropriately, (she is so appropriate)
Her squeals match the others, oooh how cute, yes, so sweet, oh so tiny
Surely she can sense there is reason to be scared
She sits, smiling, yet surely she longs to run from the room screaming

All around her the experienced mothers sip tea, ignore the screaming
Of their own snot-nosed brood, a single gal (friend from college) squirms
Wishing she were anywhere but here, more uncomfortable than scared
As breast pumps and nipple shields take center stage, before the spotlight
Again returns to cute burp cloths, onesies with dancing bears, so tiny
And green, approving mothers nod, appropriate

For either boy or girl, for this mama refused technology, thought it appropriate
Simply to wait. To be surprised. Ha, they laugh, the midnight screaming
And inconsolable wails will be surprise enough. Soon she’ll be wrestling with twenty tiny
Fingers and toes as darling baby squawks and squirms
And steals the spotlight
While she huddles in the dark, in over her head and scared

But look quick and you’ll catch them, subdued behind false giggles of “don’t be scared!”
Though if you are that’s ok (aren’t their nods reassuring?) It’s totally appropriate
But hey, what if we spun that spotlight
Around, shined it on those who’ve got their shit together (inside, you know, they’re screaming)
At night though children sleep deeply, they lay awake and squirm
Nostalgic for sweet little fingers, and impossibly tiny

Toes. That all seems so easy now, looking back on the days of tiny
Diapers and plaintive cries. Now there is so much more to be scared
Of. Mean girls focused on her own sweet daughter who squirms
Blames mother, who unjustly refused her that outfit. Too much skin! Not appropriate!
She never thought herself the type to say such words, so un-cool. The screaming
That results a far cry from the whimpers of a hungry baby. Yes, turn the spotlight

On those mothers, they’re not so smug anymore. See what the spotlight
Illuminates. Their naked longing for the simplicity of tiny
Babies so easily soothed, just a little warm milk stops the screaming
You see, those mothers, with such ready answers about your newborn, are scared
They don’t know the rules anymore or what to expect. No idea really what’s appropriate
For their own school-aged babes. New stages keep advancing, see how they squirm.

There would be lots more screaming if the spotlight
Revealed us, caught the fear as we squirm, fear once insignificant and tiny
Blooms full grown. We are scared, which is of course, only appropriate