I’ve had a week off of work, and what a […]
I’ve had a week off of work, and what a fantastic week it was. I’ve spent some wonderful time with my little man, and his infectious little giggle is such a gift when he shares it with me. I’ve been to my first baby group, one that focuses on sensory and singing (I’ll talk more about that adventure next week)—and I’ve spent much needed time with my other half, which is what I want to talk about.
… For we did the very thing all parents want and dread simultaneously: We had a date night. Without Ben.
It took a lot of courage and over planning for it to happen, but we did it.
Before Ben, date nights used to consist of going out after 7, walking into the city center (as we live a 10 minute walk from it) and having a meal at about 8 p.m. with drinks and a nice walk after, usually getting home past 11.
Date night now is something very different.
My partner’s mum got to our place at about half past 4, just after a feed, and was given a list of instructions—what to do if he cries, how to burp him, what songs he is starting to like, games he smiles at, the toys that are his favorites and what to do if he cries. (Yes, that last one was on there twice!)
I think we may have forgotten that Ben’s Nana had done this all before, and judging by how awesome my partner is, she did a pretty good job, too!
By 5 p.m. we were (reluctantly) out the door and on our way to have a meal. As it was a cold but nice night, we walked in to town and spent the whole 10 minutes only talking about Ben and if he was OK. It felt strange, only a year ago I would have done this walk without a care in the world, but the entire time I felt like something was missing. We were both there and still a part of me wasn’t, almost like I had lost one of my legs.
Secretly if at any point in the 10-minute walk my partner had suggested turning back, I would have jumped at the chance. I was seriously struggling with neither of us being with him—what if he needed either his mummy or daddy to give him a cuddle? But we persevered and went to our restaurant.
And can you guess what the first thing we did was? Yep, you’ve guessed it. We got our mobile phones out to make sure we’d not missed a call and we had plenty of reception. Satisfied all was OK or else we’d know, we ordered. (I’d thought about what I wanted, so it would cut down on time away—which would have been a little sad if my other half hadn’t done the exact same thing.) And we settled to eat.
Maybe it was the glass of wine, maybe it was the fact that we knew he was safe and at home, it was probably a bit of both. But we actually managed to unwind a little and talk about other things, normal couple things, and it was lovely.
For about an hour.
Then we both started to twitch, and we spoke a little less and ate a little quicker. I was tempted to ask for the bill whilst still eating but didn’t.
With indigestion from eating so fast, we paid and started to walk home. The 10-minute walk felt a lot longer, and we opened our front door—wondering what had happened in our absence, wondering if he had been OK, wondering if he had needed us desperately—only to discover him quite happily sleeping after a big bottle feed (from one of the three full bottles of expressed milk, just in case) on his Nana’s shoulder.
It turns out we didn’t need to worry at all, and that was such an amazing feeling.
But still, we’re not going to rush on to the next date night.