Crazies R Us

This weekend, I walked into the belly of the beast. And I was defeated.

The formidable foe: Babies R Us. With it white lacquered interior, rows of pristine peach fuzz and cloud-colored clothing, and staged nurseries decorated with posies and polka dots, its weapons of destruction were too strong for me to defend against, and it slayed my self confidence in one fell swoop. I walked in ... and I walked out. Just. Like. That.

Let me back up. Once upon a time... (Saturday) ...

I was out shopping for the day, and I decided to pick up a pregnancy gift for Said Friend Stacie. While at my castle (T.J. Maxx), I figured it would be a great idea to pop next store to the Land O Babes and check out the goods.

"Lalalalala" I sang (in my head) as I skipped (walked slowly through the oppressive heat) down the sidewalk. I twirled my way through the front door, as a parade of mice and little birds danced around my feet (OK, now I'm completely out of control), having not a care in the world.

And then it hit me. I looked around the store, and I didn't know where to go. I saw big bellies everywhere, staring at me with their protruding belly buttons. I saw husbands testing the plushness of pink teddy bears. I saw grandmothers proudly holding up onsies for their daughters to gush over. And then I saw the parking lot as I ran for my car.

I don't know what happened. I suddenly felt like a fraud; like I didn't belong. I felt like everyone could instantly see that I wasn't one of them - that I wasn't pregnant or a mother. That I was alone.

Wednesday will be the 28th day of my cycle. Hoping that this story will end: "And they lived happily every after." But right now, the birds and mice are only singing the chorus.