Last night was the first time we both when out and left the baby at home. She was with her capable a

Last night was the first time we both when out and left the baby at home. She was with her capable aunt, who she adores, (and she even waved me off and nonchalantly said ba-bye when I placed her in my sister’s arms and said I was leaving) but it was still slightly anxiety-provoking and guilt-inducing. Especially when we got some texts, in the middle of the play we were seeing, that said she was a little upset and kept asking for Mamamamamama. I mean, was this play really more important than spending the evening with my sweet girl? Did we have to come? Was this all a mistake? Maybe… to all of the above. The truth is, most things really aren’t worth being away from her at night. (For me, personally — you do you, of course.) Usually, either she can come or one of us can stay home. She’s only this little for such a short time and my husband and I have our whole adult lives, eventually, to spend our evenings out alone. This littleness and intense neediness is just a season and we’re happy to revolve our lives around it, for now.And yet…. it was really nice to get out. To put on a nice outfit that won’t be stained by someone else’s messy eating, a necklace that won’t be tugged at, lipstick that won’t be investigated by tiny, pudgy fingers. We didn’t have to shlep a diaper bag or coordinate a baby carrier with my outfit or debate over who was going to handle a stinky diaper. It was the first play I attended since I was a few weeks pregnant with her, when I discovered how uncomfortable and stressful it was for me to wait until intermission to pee. I used to see plays somewhat regularly, and it was thrilling to be wrapped back up in that make-believe world of costumes and sets last night. I realized how much I missed suspending my disbelief and having the opportunity to really focus on something, without distraction. Except, at times, I was distracted and anxious and guilt-ridden. And I wished I didn’t feel the need to feel that way. I wished I could have made the decision to go out and trusted that my baby would be fine and allowed myself this opportunity for self-care without the guilt that feels thrust upon us at every turn.So we went out, I enjoyed it, I hated it, I’m not sure if or when we’ll do it again and I’m not sure which choice is supposed to make me feel more guilty, like a better or worse mom, like a better or worse woman. This motherhood and womanhood gig is complicated like that. It’s hard when everyone (self-included) has an opinion and a philosophy and every choice feels burdened with meaning. It’s hard when we don’t always know what’s best for our babies, what’s best for ourselves. It’s hard when our needs and our babies’ needs are different. So I just try my best and try to tell the guilt to shove it and try to block out the rest of the noise and try not to add to the cacophony that tells women and mothers that whatever we’re doing isn’t enough. Because you know what? It is. -- source link

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