Prisoners

I am starting to fantasize about taking Miles to the local Crepe Cafe and enjoying dinner OUT as a family. Or perhaps visiting our favorite breakfast haunt . . . .or even running an errand to the hardware store or grocery store with Miles tucked into the Baby Bjorn. But alas, the tables have turned, no longer is Miles the prisoner, but Dean and I are prisoners of our infant. Dean's Uncle George poignantly pointed this out to us not long after Miles homecoming. How right he was...

Yes, we go for walks. Yes, we go to medical appointments. And yes, I attend two support groups (ok, maybe three); a Listening Mothers group at Swedish, an evening couples PEPS group and our ad-hoc NICU mothers' monthly get together. But there is something quite limiting about not being able to integrate your baby into society. When I find myself with him at the mothers' groups, he seems more real and more "normal" to me. I think what I am saying is that I am ready to break out of our bubble soon.

So when can I peruse the aisles of Whole Foods with Miles? When can Dean and I enjoy dinner out with our new baby in one of many of our local favorite restaurants? When can I remove the blanket from his head when I whisk him through doctor's lobbies? And when can we reconnect with our friends who have young children?

Soon, oh so soon. In no longer than a month we will be venturing out.

I can taste that crepe now with baby at our side!

lisa