Vegas with infant

Just got back from a 5-day trip to Las Vegas. It was for business, not pleasure. I went to attend an Orthodontist's convention. Since Ian could only come for the weekend, my parents joined me to share in the care of Jackson while I was in lectures. Going to Vegas was a rude awakening for me. I really, truly realized that I'm not single anymore.

I know it may seem a bit belated that this past weekend was when the alarming reality hit the hardest. Yes, I've been married 15 months now. But the first few months were the honeymoon period, the next few were dealing with the shock of getting pregnant, and the rest of the time was focused on preparing for Jackson's arrival and tying up loose ends with work so that both of us could make time to be at home with him. Neither of us really made major changes in how we lived our lives with so many other things to distract us. We were like two single people living together. And, yes, I've been a parent for nearly 3 months now. But since I'm on maternity leave, I haven't yet re-entered the world I'm familiar with. It's like I'm in vacation mode without it being a vacation. Having Jackson to care for is a pleasant, but surreal existence right now.

Going to Las Vegas reminded me that I'm not single anymore. I've been there many times since coming of age. It's familiar, with activities and a lifestyle that seems distinctly associated with my single life in my mind. In Vegas, you can stay up all night, lounge around the pool, and sleep until the sun goes down again. There's the surfeit of buffets to indulge in (and I like eating), a wide range of shows for entertainment, and bright lights and loud sounds to engage the senses. In Vegas, alcohol flows freely and clouds of smoke pervade the environment. And of course there's the allure of gambling (I'm a sucker for video poker and craps). And I missed just about all of it. One buffet and one show in 4 days. I don't really count the 9 hours of orthodontic lectures I attended among the fun things. My friends invited me out, Ian had some ideas for a date night (which we did), and even my parents made some suggestions that I enjoy myself. But there was someone I was with who needed me every 3-4 hours for nourishment and needed a nap at just the right time and wasn't allowed in the casinos and got fussy when out too long and was at a developmental stage where he couldn't take all the smoke and noise and needed diaper changes every so often and... who I love. So this time I didn't experience Las Vegas as I have in the past. Don't get me wrong. I don't actually need to do all that happens in Vegas. And most of the time, I don't even like to do all that happens in Vegas. But I think I like having the freedom to choose to do some of what happens in Vegas. And that came and went with my single life. Because now I have not just one, but two other people I have committed to serve.

So for just a moment while holed up in a timeshare in Vegas, I mourned the loss of the freedom that came with my single life. But then I thought about the way Ian greets me when I come home, the way he offers to do the things I don't like to do (like going grocery shopping and taking out the trash and lifting heavy things), the way he warms up my side of the bed for me when it's cold, the way he laughs at my dumb jokes, the way he doesn't get mad at me when I get mad at him. And then I thought about the way Jackson stretches when he wakes up, the way he looks at me out of the corner of his eyes when I bend over his crib because his head's too big to hold in any position but off to the side, the way the top of his head smells, the way he hyperventilates and windmills his arms in excitement when he realizes that I have a load of milk to feed him, the way he coos and smiles in response to my smile. And it is all so worth losing the life I had before.

Clarice