Through a Window

I've heard a lot of new mothers (and mothers of older children) all express the isolation that comes with caring for a newborn. I had never felt that until tonight.

Mostly my days consist of trying to wake up and by noon I feel like I should do something other than be in pajamas. By two o'clock I have changed into yoga pants and take my hour walk. By the time I get back home around three-ish (or four-ish depending on how prompt I was at two to leave the house) I come home, shower and cool off or do some arm stuff with the little weights my mom bought me for mothers day. Either way, it's a time warp to eight pm when Hubby comes home. I don't know how my day just breezes by so fast but it does. My whole day just vanishes before my eyes.

Not today thought...

today crawled...

Because I had plans.

Yup, that's right! I had made PLANS! To go somewhere! Without Hubby, for a knitting group. Knitting is my thing. I had found a group online that is local and was going to meet them at a coffee shop. I started getting ready hours before, pacing. Meeting new people is a big thing for me. I have to mentally prepare myself. It takes stuffing my anxiety deep within myself and tricking myself into thinking I'm a social butterfly. I told BabyG all day about our adventure to a coffee shop to knit with some nice ladies from the internet. I told her she had to be strong for me, because I was very nervous about the whole thing.

 Her little eyes grew big as I put on make up for the first time in months and curled my hair. She didn't recognize me. I had to talk to her and kiss her to remind her I'm her mother. Her mother with make up and hair fixed. A mother she had never seen before. As I convinced her I was her mother, I convinced myself I could do this. I waited to be kind of early but late for the time given to meet. I didn't know anyone so I wanted to recognize the group of ladies knitting rather than them having to approach me.

Did I mention when I'm graciously nervous about an event I always show up extremely early?

Well, I wasn't extremely early but I was early nonetheless. That's okay though, I thought. I needed to get out of the house anyway. Spend a few dollars on myself and soak up being in public with my face painted on and my hair being the best it has been in days. I bought my tea and cookies. I nervously glanced around while I purchased said items and spotted no one knitting. Fuck. I'm early. But I was... eight minutes late. Fuck. O well, I take a seat outside on the patio by the door. I post on the forum of the group and tell them where I'm at and what I'm wearing. Someone response with "I'm late, but I'll be there!" so I'm hopeful.

Well, an hour and a half rolls by and no one has approached me a I, either didn't see, or overlooked ladies walking in with knitting supplies. BabyG has officially gotten bored with her surroundings and even though I bravely breastfed her in public she was done with her nap as well. As I gulp down my last sips of tea in a rush to escape this public place with a screaming baby I glance in to the coffee shop and notice a group of ladies laughing and knitting. It was like in a movie. Sound stopped, I could hear their laughter louder for a split second and then was vacuumed back out into the reality outside. I could hear only birds and their laughter. I was back in high school again and the cool kids were kicking me out of a conversation I know something about. I was all dressed up for prom and my date was dancing with another girl. My internet date had turned out to be a classmate playing a cruel joke on me. I was alone. I was literally outside looking in on something I wanted to be apart of.

Obviously I'm an adult now and these ladies don't know me. They might have recognized me from the forum but are just as coy as I am. I can rationalize why I wasn't approached or simply they just didn't see me.... or it wasn't them at all. All day I had thought about the conversations I could have with these ladies and possible friendships that could grow from it. I thought about what they would be like. I paced the house today worried they would hate me and I would get coffee poured on me and they would drag me out by my hair. Okay, so maybe that last one is a bit extreme but I haven't "put myself out there" to meet people in such a way for awhile and last time I was in a knitting group there was a forty year gap between me and the second youngest.

I played out the scenario of me going in and awkwardly introducing myself and then saying "Hello. Goodbye." No, I couldn't do that. BabyG was very serious about not wanting to be there anymore and Hubby was due home soon. The empty cup hits the trashcan and I let out a big sigh. O well.

Maybe next week.