I didn’t think anyone else could take care of him but me. Like me. The last weekend in February Ali and I had our first night away from the kids since Sebastian was born. Our last trip had been a ‘babymoon’ to Cornwall, England when I was just 5 months pregnant. And after Sebastian was born we had to be apart for 11 days while he was in the NICU and I had to commute back and forth to the hospital. The nurses had pity on me and had let me stay the first 5 days after his birth before sending me home.
After he came home with us we were always together. Mother. That was my new job. I was a mother. It had turned out much more complicated that I thought it would be. I remember my first outing without Sebastian. Because I did have them. But they were short. An hour or two. In Cairo there was no one else. Just me. But I did have time to write once a week when ali took Seb to music class. There was ali.
Ali had business trips that I never had. The next time we were apart was his g-tube surgery. Ali slept in hospital with Sebastian while I took care of Tallula, who was just a baby. I do remember when she was a baby. But the memories are so different from the early days with Sebastian.
I used to dream about holidays on the beach like I had in my twenties. They never came. At least not like I dreamt. We did to go the beach with ali on two of his business trips when we lived in Egypt. Sebastian loved the water from the beginning. His feet kicked and his face smiled and the beach dream evolved. I didn’t want to escape. Until I moved to Canada and was lost in winter. It lasts forever and at the end I’m just tired of digging us out of the snow.
So I planned an overnight for ali and I in February. Not to the beach. Instead we stayed in a guest suite overlooking a frozen lake. We trekked in snow shoes out to the island in the middle of the lake after a long, lazy breaksfast. We even sled down the hill to the lake afterwards and I laughed like I haven’t laughed in a very long time. Ali slept in and even though I wanted to, I couldn’t. But I did enjoy the quiet time to myself. It was strange. It was the real time away for me. Because we go on dinner dates and we come home late after the kids are in bed. But we are always there in the morning. And this time we weren’t.
And everyone was ok. In fact we all had a pretty swell time. It’s good to trust others with your kids. They like that special time with a Grandma and Pap and friends like Marjorie. Even when letting go is hard. It’s necessary. And now I know I need to do it again and again. For me. For us. For our family.