[Lack of] Separation Anxiety

Last night was the first night I have been away from Gillian since she came home. I had plenty of second thoughts and concerns about leaving her behind while going to my work retreat, but since I was asked (or told, really) that I would be presenting on the site where we took on Big Oil (and won, I might add), I found the strength to go and leave her here.

The first thing I realized when I got there is that I left my breast pump flanges at home. It doesn't work without them. YAY for flakiness! So, since we were in the middle of nowhere, I had to drive somewhere to get replacements...70 miles later and a pumping session later, I joined the group. Before long, I was completely engrossed in the talk about TCE in shallow aquifer in Downer's Grove and dioxins in fish in the Tittabawassee river. I was almost giddy with using my brain for the intellectual pursuit of swapping science stories. During breaks I caught up with my colleagues from our region 5 states and joked about the good old days (like getting threatened by mafia-tied cops one fine day in Ohio). We broke for a couple of hours in the late afternoon/early evening for some play time (canoing for most) and dinner. I took myself on a dinner date (to La Vigna, the only decent restaurant within 40 miles, as far as I could tell), alone, to enjoy the solitude. It was better than fabulous-the food, and particularly the company. The evening session with the partners had a jovial air. I presented second to last. I was all into it, supergeek-like...the stunning diurnal pattern of the data, the correlation to the monitoring locations, and finally, and most spectacularly, setting a precedent in region 5 using the clean air act for a civil action against a polluter. It doesn't get much better than that in my business-successfully getting a case and getting the company to sign on and legally promise to deal with it's own mess (while improving the quality of life for an entire city of residents). Floating with the sheer enjoyment of the day, I headed back to my Bed and Breakfast (which accepted the government rate), to my room where Abraham Lincoln had once slept, that happened to have a whirlpool bath (I think Abraham Lincoln would have liked the whirlpool bath had he been so lucky in his day). I pumped. I drank a liter of water. I had a simply magnificent bath. All uninterrupted. By anyone. I felt like I had entered the doors of Heaven, all relaxed and unrushed, and wonderfully unneeded*.

As I lay in bed, blissfully free to lay diagonally if I wanted to (and I did just because I could), I realized:

1. I love what I do, and I love sharing the excitement of my successes with my colleagues, and love them sharing theirs with me. I love hearing about creative ways our partners have addressed issues in their respective states, and the great outcomes that they have actualized.
2. I will never ever take the spare set of flanges out of my pump bag again.
3. I love small towns with rivers running through them and being out of the city in a small town is inherently calming.
4. I got to eat my entire dinner-date meal with both hands, without having to half pay attention to the food and the other half entertain the baby. I drank my wine, thoroughly enjoyed my lobster and shrimp pasta, and read my book without interruption. If you have never had a baby, you don't know what it is to have a peaceful meal after months of attempting to eat with a baby in tow.
5. I had not gotten peed on, puked on, or snotted on all day. I was wearing the same clothes I had put on that morning. I did not change a diaper for 36 hours.
6. Instead of fighting a stubborn, crying baby at bedtime, I took a luxurious bath, ate some fudge, and drank my water.
7. I SLEPT 8 SOLID HOURS WITHOUT INTERRUPTION FROM ANYONE. No one stole my covers, no one froze me with the window unit, no one woke up at 4 am to eat, and no one hogged the bed. (Sarah, this reminds me of our conversation today) I just didn't have to compromise, or be considerate, or be thoughtful. It was all about me, and it felt damn good.

So, did I miss cuddling Monkey and covering her with kisses? Seeing her sweet little smile in the morning? Of course I did. But if you ask me if I was torn up missing her while at my conference, the answer is NO. It was good to get away, alone. I haven't done that in a very long time. I use to do it several times a month. It is important to have little windows of doing things on your own time, and only doing the things you want to do (as opposed to having to do things other people want you to do, or doing things other people's way that you have to do).

*When I said wonderfully unneeded, I meant at that moment. I think to be unneeded in a general sense in one's life would be sad (I would argue that a lot of a person's sense of purpose comes from his/her belief that they are fulfilling a need that other people have-be it love, care, affection, you name it).