I haven't built up the courage to sign up for parenting classes in the area, to meet other moms. If I do leave the house it's so I can buy last minute diapers. In my pre-baby days, I used to be out real late. Conversations with friends used to be about impromptu trips or late-night concerts. I don't even know if I could actually pick up the phone and -- get this -- have a conversation. I'm burdened with requests every minute to "hang on" so I can attempt to feed pax or hurry up and wipe his mouth before he chokes on his baby puke. I'm always trying to get school work done but I can't help but look in the crib and make sure his tiny, sleeping chest is rising and falling like it should be. The words "poopy" and "potty" did not exist in my vocabulary, and I rarely, if ever, openly talked about my nipples or other regions of my body. In my pre-baby days, when I suffered the weekend head-splitting hangover, I stayed in my bed until the pain went away. Until I was strong enough to get up and make some greasy food. The house was silent.
I miss my Indianapolis friends, and what I don't tell them is this :
There is NOTHING so magical as rediscovering the world around you, through your own kids' eyes. There is no greater feeling than the sensation of tiny warm hands rubbing your chest or your back, and no lovelier sound than a coo or a round of giggles. That without my son, I might never stop to ponder important things such as how formula is different from breastmilk and the tips for comforting a crying baby and what will happen to my baby if he sleeps on his stomach. Later down the road I'll have other important things to consider when his imagination starts to grow. When the "why is the sky blue?" questions start rolling in.
As hard as it is to believe, those small joys really do outweigh these past few months of sleepless nights, oceans of worry, and, yes, being urinated and vomited on more often than a frat house floor is. Sacrificing my privacy, freedom, and dignity isn't easy, but it adds a depth and richness to my life that didn't exist before I kissed my abs goodbye forever.
My friends in Naptown, Terre Haute and Muncie all own pricier shoes and clothes than me. They drive nicer cars, and have much smaller bags under their eyes than I do. My Jager girls have breasts that are still remarkably perky and they suffer less heartache. All of you can sleep in any Saturday that you please. You bitches get to wear bikinis. In public.