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Goodies from Your Girls
Isabelle dishes on parties for the pregnant

When did it hit me I was truly expecting? The same pink line on five consecutive pregnancy tests was pretty convincing. The non-stop nausea, the tender breasts, the weepiness? Sure, they fueled my conviction of fertility.

The ease with which I could abandon beloved rituals: my morning java (x2 or more), the sushi bar lunches and near-nightly glasses of petite syrah - suddenly seemed not only okay to sacrifice, but surprisingly and oddly revolting. Evidence a'mounting.

Nothing quite cinches the "a baby is on the way and I'm going to be a mommy" awareness like the traditional baby shower.

I know, I know; the obligatory "games" meet with questionable response. From standing and dropping diaper pins held to your nose into a baby bottle on the floor (which of course the woman large with child cannot even see) to perhaps the least appealing of all, guessing the candy bar brand from a semi-softened state in a slightly microwaved diaper. Even the non-morning-sickness-afflicted experience a predictable wave with that one.

All worth it, my sisters. Go ahead. Try to hold the hormones in check upon unwrapping the tokens of love for both you and your baby-on-the-way. Cavalcades of crave-ables - from precious tiny togs to irresistibly indulgent items.

It's your party. Go ahead. Cry if you want to.