Last time we went away as a couple was 5 years ago. We got massages, slept in, took long walks while holding hands and ate fancy foods.
On our way back home, we stopped to buy some food and I jokingly took a pregnancy test. That night, I learnt we were going to become parents. It was our last mini-vacation, just me and my husband.
Now, our family lives in a “parenting retreat” that’s supposed to last for at least 18 years. At the time I’m writing this, we have 14 more to go.
But in a few days, we’ll escape from the “parenting retreat” and head out into the world, just the two of us. I feel disoriented and exhilarated, wild and worried.
I prepared lists of his favourite foods, emergency numbers, his daily routine and carefully packed an outfit for every day we are away. I set aside his favourite books and toys to take away and progressively explained him that he “will sleep chez mamie 7 times“.
As the d-day is approaching, my heart is racing. I find myself smelling his hair and hugging him every chance I get. Before I go to bed, I stare at him sleeping and I feel reassured that he’s the most incredible little being in my life.
The thought of leaving him feels like someone opened my body and took my heart out. I feel guilty that I want to go away. At the same time, I feel like I deserve a week with my husband, discovering new places, having some time to talk about us and make plans about our future, see friends and celebrate.
Next time I’ll write here, I would have probably grown into a different mother (and wife). This is the best part of documenting my journey. You’re welcome to come back and see how our story unfolded.