Baby Shower Blues

So my family (my adopted family) are insisting on throwing us a baby shower. Why do I have such a hard time with this? I can't accept gifts well--feel very guilty about it. My therapist says go for it because you will use ALL of it.

I guess it would be better if a friend was throwing it. The last time a party was thrown for me (my wedding) dad asked for receipts! Besides that, though, I guess the consumerism of having a baby is getting me down. I know babies need stuff, but do they need crap? I refuse to allow my kid to play with toys that are filled with flashing lights and sounds of “the cow says ‘moooo’”. That is so not what they need. Why do shove barn sounds, colors, and numbers down young children’s throats? When has a child not grown up knowing that stuff? They pick it up, for God’s sake, without formal training.

Also, the "selfish" part of me doesn’t understand why we don’t celebrate the mother more during these little gatherings. I feel guilty registering for any mommy-related items. I feel that is my responsibility to buy such things. Why? There should be nothing wrong with asking for nipple cream, right? I’m reading Birthing From Within right now. Not offering me a huge amount of information yet, but I do appreciate the way the mother is celebrated. They touch on the heart of the emotional transition from parentless to parenthood. In it they say, “All ceremonies symbolically destroy one world to create a new one.” A., my husband, says this is a rather harsh way of looking at it, but I like the wording. Birth itself is a ceremony that leads you one way and one way only. Whether you keep the child or not, whether the child lives or not, you have profoundly changed. A ceremony should happen to acknowledge this imminent event. A gathering of women, especially, should address this, but so many women have lost their primordial connections with each other. One of the strangest experiences in my life was attending a baby shower. Every very feminine woman there was wearing a floral dress. I came in a black pantsuit. They couldn’t get past it. We also played a million games, which, I admit, can be fun, but there wasn't any wisdom passed on to the mom-to-be. That’s what I need right now. A matriarch.

Can you rent those?