100 Words Per Mile: The Exhaustion of Baby Withdrawal
My wife and I make our first trip without our daughter.
January 11, 2022
13.00 miles
1:55:42
Another half marathon, and this one felt pretty good. My body can be a fickle thing, doing its best to convince me that I have no more than two miles in me yet continuing to move with very little hesitation. Is it muscle memory? Is it will? I don’t know. The more I run, the more of a mystery the body becomes for me.
Our daughter has started to really refine her motor skills. She will roll from her belly back to her back, and she can hold her head up pretty well during tummy time. When she finds herself really engaged with her toys, she’ll even talk to them, making vague vowel sounds as she does so. We’re not sure how much is intentional communication or basic sound exploration. She doesn’t seem too aware that she’s the one making the sounds, but I’m a firm believer she’s a lot smarter than she’s letting on.
Recently, my wife and I made a short road trip to go watch a basketball game. I’m a huge NBA fan and my Christmas gift from my wife this year was two tickets to go see the Washington Wizards play the Magic in Orlando. This, I thought, was wildly generous of her, because that means we’d be leaving the baby with someone else (it turns out my mom was in on this) for eight to ten hours. I cannot emphasize how surprised I was by this.
Now, I trust my mom to take care of her granddaughter. There’s not a doubt in my mind that she is a wonderful babysitter—but the new-parent anxiety doesn’t just melt away. The three hour drive there wasn’t too bad, but the moment the game started, we were already complaining about the lack of photos provided by my mom. My wife didn’t voice it, but the separation was a breeding ground for paranoia. Was she okay? Would anyone tell us if something was wrong? Could they be at the hospital right now?
Absurd, but this is all thanks to a heightened amygdala.
The most interesting part of the drive was having my wife in the passenger seat again. Ever since we had the baby, one of us has sat in the backseat with her, just in case something came up. But it was just us now, so we held hands, and briefly remembered what it was like before we became parents.
I couldn’t really drink because we were driving right home and I couldn’t go for a run, so I had to find a way to let go. Thankfully, our seats were good, and I managed to disappear into the game a little bit. We’re probably years away from bringing our little girl to one of these, but I’m already excited about the prospect. Parenting, for me, is already about sharing all the things I love about the world. Books, sports, art. One day, we’ll share beers. I’m trying to be patient about it all. The newborn version of my daughter is already gone forever. She’s wearing three-to-six month onesies. It’s fading fast—but I’m still excited for the future.
