Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Being away from baby for the first time

I went back to Minneapolis, only possible because we moved away, and now I can return to a once home, the place I cried at the idea of leaving. Like looking back on a cruel lover, moving I was surprised to realize how much stress and bad memories I have. I arrived into MN at night, a friend picked me up, J, and we went for a drink at Barbette's. I got a cocktail, I never do that, and fries. I dont get to sit at bar stools often and now if I do I want to take full advantage. Whereas before, back when everything was arbirary, when I was not a parent, I order cheap, placed no value on what I got from the bar. The point was mostly to be at the bar with friends. I ordered happy hour beer usually. Never the $10 hot rum drinks. But that is all different now. Going out is a chance to gorge on color, flavor, ideas, energy of strangers.
I had the next day to myself mostly, I was reading at the Loft in the evening and going by the University to hear a talk by my former lab manager. In between the talk and the reading I found the publicly accessible pumping room at Boynton. It was wonderful to take off my shirt and pump somewhere on campus, though I had to ask two people to get access. I was surprised to find that my thoughts kept going back to how low I felt after pregnancy and after my oral exams. I know that after big stresses I need a few days in the tropics (without inlaws!). But I have yet to employ this strategy. I was so lonely, terrified of being alone with the baby in the house all the time. I felt like I had lost my identity. I felt like work and motherhood were at odds. I felt like I would never get a job and would have a phd and do nothing with it. I wished I had never gone to graduate school. I feared my advisor would make me do things I didnt want in exchange for letting me finish. I felt sick with separation from everyone else, in love with my baby, absolutely, newly more in love with Robin. But still I felt like a prisoner to the house, my anemic recovering stitched up body.
When did things get better? When Robin finished his phd too. When we went out West for a vacation. When we went to Tucson for more vacation. When I started to get my period. When I finally got my official offer letter for my postdoc. When I knew what to do with myself and Byrd. When I was not overwhelmed to take Byrd to the grocery store. When I stopped feeding Byrd in the night. When Robin started sharing daycare with me again.
So I returned to my beloved city and pondered my saddest lowest times.
After my reading I had drinks with friends at Sea Change. It was great. I loved being dressed up, drinking fancy drinks, talking with all these people I love so much. I wore a new dress, in my size, my body back where it should be. Back where I want it to be. I wore a sweater over it though, too nervous to show my arms, shoulders, if my stomach looks pregnant still, if I look pudgy still. Even if I think I have lost all the weight, I still feel dis figured from the last year and a half. My body has been through so much change, it feels gnarled, changed, impure, lesser. But sometimes I can conjure such joy that my body works. A friend recently told me about a miscarriage, she said she felt like her body didnt work. And I felt relief. My body works. I grew a baby, I make milk for the baby.
The next night J and I went to Bar La Grassa - a scene of sexy gay men with nice asses waiting tables and bartending, drunk old men at the bar trying to talk with us, amazing food, J drinking Maker's Mark like there is no tomorrow. I went home feeling satiated for food, fancy, fun.
I arrived home close to midnight the next day. The airplane ride I tried to close my eyes and think about what I had done over the weekend, discussions of story structure, my plans. It was peaceful, much more so than usual. I came home better rested than when I got on in Minneapolis.
I came in and Byrd was squaking upstairs. I didnt know if Robin would want me to feed him or not since that would break routine. When I came up, Robin handed Byrd to me and I sobbed, almost tearless, but sobs came like waves through my body. Bryd smelled so of Byrd. And he was bigger. More boyish. Now i cant describe the baby smell - milk, pee, hair, cloth. I cant seperate out the parts, recall, but when I smelled it I collapsed.
I didnt miss the baby or Robin. I missed them and loved them, but it felt great to go home and see friends to have time alone to sleep in my own bed and do as I pleased and eat burgers and drink rum. None of the fancy food or scenes mean much in the long run, but it still felt so good. Mostly, it was a releif to not have the option to consider stopping whatever I was doing to go back to Byrd, not needing to justify time away.
Back, I feel good about our house, the nightly fires, cooking, being together, not being rushed. I feel strange not knowing what I will do, but the nerves and sickness of being new have died down. It felt boring today. Just being in the office working. Really boring.