What’s the most selfish thing you’ve ever seen someone do?

The Baby Shower Betrayal

My best friend of 20 years told me to sit this one out in reference to her baby shower because I’d bring the vibes down after my miscarriage. When I tried to reassure her I could still be happy for her, she just made mhm sounds and rushed out the door. I didn’t say a word.

That was 2 years ago. When blood started dripping down my legs at work, I cried all the way to the hospital. It took 2 hours for the nurses to confirm it was a miscarriage.

Haley, my cousin, was the first person I called after leaving the hospital. We’ve been inseparable since second grade. When she split her fruit roll up with me because I forgot my lunch money. And 20 years later, she was still the first person I called.

When she got pregnant last June, she facetimed me from the bathroom, squealing the word finally over and over. So, when she sent me the link to her Pinterest baby shower board, I wanted to be the one to plan it. And plan it for her, I did.

I handlettered 45 invitations because Haley insisted that she loved calligraphy. I coordinated dietary restrictions for 32 guests, including her mother-in-law’s bizarrely specific, no foods that start with P rule.

I drove two hours to the specialty fabric store for the exact shade of sage green tablecloth she’d pinned on Pinterest.

But I figured it was worth it because me and Haley were talking more than we had in years, and I felt like I was getting my best friend back.

But when I called Haley about my miscarriage 2 weeks before her baby shower, she went quiet. I expected her to tell me everything would be okay, or at least just listen to me.

But no, she just muttered, “Oh, dang, that really sucks.” And I could hear her acrylic nails clicking on the screen like she was busy texting someone else. After a few more moments of silence, she spoke again.

“Well, don’t stress about it. I can always find a new planner for my baby shower,” she said before hanging up.

She didn’t even ask if I was okay. I told myself that she was probably just too busy with her pregnancy to comfort me.

And after a few days, there was a knock at the door. It was Haley carrying a huge basket of expensive candles, flowers, and homemade cookies that were fresh from the oven.

It was the most love I had felt since the miscarriage. I gave her a huge hug, but instead of hugging me back, she stood there with her arms glued to her sides.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

Her voice was cold. The room went silent. This is hard to say, but I think you should sit this one out. The baby shower. As in my mom thinks it’s bad luck to have someone who miscarried at a baby shower.

I don’t agree, but I do think you’ll bring the vibes down. I tried to reassure her, to tell her that not even a miscarriage could stop me from being happy for her.

Her smile stayed frozen while she made little mhm sounds, the kind you make when you’re waiting for someone to stop talking. In just minutes, she was rushing out the door, pretending like she had somewhere to be at 10 p.m.

on a Tuesday night. The next morning, I woke up to a text that made my blood run cold.

Hey, my love, I just wanted to make sure we were clear about the baby shower sitch.

You know the way you’re super fragile and a crybaby sometimes?

Well, I’d feel terrible if you broke down at my shower. My sister will collect the supplies tomorrow. I’ll Venmo you for everything once I review the receipts. Thanks.

3 weeks of handmade paper flowers, $800 in decorations, 45 handlettered invitations, and she reduced it all to a pickup like I was a party supply store.

When the day of the baby shower came, I spent most of the day having a depression nap. When I woke up at 8:00 p.m., I checked my phone and cried my eyes out.

Everyone was posting themselves on their story beside the chocolate fountain, thanking Haley’s sister, Amy, for planning the whole thing. Meanwhile, I was lying in bed completely drenched in sweat, losing all will to live.

That’s when I knew I didn’t just lose my baby. I lost my best friend, too. In a moment of rage, I blocked Haley on everything and disabled all of my social media accounts permanently.