Airport Ramblings

Silhouette of People Walking Inside Building

“The trouble is not that I am single and likely to stay single, but that I am lonely and likely to stay lonely.”  ― Charlotte Brontë

The weight of loneliness seems heavier when you travel. But this isn’t a blog post about loneliness. Originally I intended to write about my trip to Vegas and Denver. Yet, for some reason all I could cover was the nine hour delay I spent in the airport. Read More


A Life Update

adorable-animal-bunny-236640My life of late is that of a jack rabbit running from one thing to the next. Either I’m stumbling out the door to work, dodging angry Hoosiers in traffic, or rushing across campus to class. Read More

The Unmarried Professional Amidst a Host of Pregnant Mothers

Baby talk. It’s something I’m not very good at. Parts of it, I’ll admit, are interesting. But babies are not my life right now. And so I honestly don’t know how to engage in such conversation.

Last night I sat with a group of mothers and soon-to-be mothers listening to them talk about pregnancy and babies.

They discussed which doctors they were seeing and which hospitals they had chosen. They went on about cravings and morning sickness. Then we moved to sympathy weight that the husbands were gaining as the wives were growing bigger. The mother who already had a child, talked about sleep schedules. There are certain techniques like feed, sleep, play, feed, sleep, play. Others nurse their child to sleep which in often frowned upon. Then we discussed where to shop for maternity clothes and how to approach a winter pregnancy as apposed to a summer one.

This went on the entire night and I sat silently realizing how removed I was from this demographic. Was I really much different? Although these women only had a few years on me, I experientially had nothing to say. We live in the same city, shop at the same grocery stores, watch the same movies and attend the same church. How can our lives be so drastically different?

And so in the dim light of a backyard barbecue, with the husbands of these wives playing corn hole next to a dying bonfire, I made a conclusion. A stay-at-home mom and an unmarried professional have actually nothing in common other than perhaps the desire to be known, recognized, and appreciated.

It was boring, if I’m honest. And it was sad, if I’m pathetically honest. Why don’t I have a husband to fight with over the name of our unborn child? Why don’t I have a baby growing in my stomach? Why am I forced to support myself, pay my own bills, and cook, clean, and shop for myself? These unwanted thoughts entered my mind as the evening progressed.

I learned a lot of new things from these women. Important things I suppose. But impractical things. Is it practical for me to know that at 32 weeks I shouldn’t travel more than an hour away from my hospital? Well, not at this point.

How to make conversation with a group of mothers? Maybe once I figure this out, the answer will be in my next blog post. Or something along those lines.