Away From b

This morning I rolled my achy body out of bed, waddled to the bathroom after collecting a mishmash of clothes to wear while I get ready, and turned on the light. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I melted into tears, watching them steadily stream down my face, lightly splish-splashing on the counter.

You see, today I am leaving my son in the care of my parents and sister for the day. Well, my husband and I are leaving him. I have a baby shower to go to on the other side of the state, and since a three-hour car ride each way would be torture for the little man (who already had to make a similar trek a couple weeks ago) we decided at the last minute last night to see if we could procure babysitters for him for the day. My mom jumped at the chance, and now Little B gets to spend the whole day with Oma, Grandpa E, and Aunt Christine instead of being schlepped here and there, cooped up in a car that holds no fun for him.

My family has watched him before, obviously, so why did this upset me so?

This will be the longest I have ever been away from my son since the day he was born. If we drove there, went to the shower, and drove back without stopping at all along the way either way, we'll be gone for nine hours. I'm pretty sure the longest I've ever left him with a babysitter is like three hours. So, as you can imagine, this day has become pretty daunting for me.

Through the haze of my tears, I started to think about a friend and something she did for the first time last night, and I'm trying to draw strength through her and through my own experience. My friend Andrea spent her first few hours alone, outside of the hospital, with her brand new son last night. She wrote on Facebook how nervous she was and how scary something so tiny can be. Her words brought me back to those first days when I stayed home alone with Baylor, how I didn't know exactly what I was doing and I was scared, but we did it. And we survived many, many days since.

I know I can do this today; it will be much harder on me than Little B, I'm sure. But it's good to get this first taste of separation under our belts because (deep breath, Nicole) I know there is a much bigger separation coming up in the not-so-distant future. A separation I am still struggling to fathom, let alone be okay with. So days like today, those important baby steps, are a good jumping-off-point to prepare me - and Baylor - for the few days when I'll be in the hospital, getting acquainted with a new little person.

Still ...

I better bring some touch-up makeup with me today. And lots and lots of tissue.