getting out

Its the smallest things....a trip to the coffee shop to meet a friend, grocery shopping, going to the drug store. These are the things that become major endeavors with an infant. We tried to go and get a coffee...only a 2 minute drive and a very uncrowded coffee shop but little lukas would not have it. We walked in and he was hungry. Now I'm pretty comfortable with public breast feeding but the place was so empty and I was by a window and I just felt so exposed, so I headed for the bathroom but when I walked into the barren florescant lit little room and sat down on the toilet to feed lukas, he just looked at me like I had to be kidding. It did feel kind of dirty, like I was doing drugs or something. I looked back at him and said "o.k. you're right...lets go back out there." So I attempted non-boppy breast feeding which was a challenge. He flopped around and scratched his eye and got all red in the face. I worried I was poking him in the head with my nails and might accidentally puncture his skull. He weighs so much it was hard to keep him there long enough for him to really eat so we moved on to the pacifier. Meanwhile, my steamed milk is now cold and my muffin is untouched. My friend Trina and I try to talk but lukas is grunting and groaning and I feel preoccupied...I so want to be with people...to talk about something besides baby, but my thoughts are always pulled towards lukas. Its not just these logistical challenges that make it hard its also the new image. I'm not used to being the lady with the baby. The woman in the coffee shop on a Tuesday afternoon with a baby on my boob talking about solid foods and diaper rash. Why does that feel so cliche? We don't last very long there...a semi-forced hour and I'm convinced Trina will never want to go out with me and my squirming baby again. I'm also convinced that I may never want to go out with my squirming baby again. After a car ride with an unhappy little baby I land back home in my familiar breast feeding chair and he settles back into me. I look down at him. He is curled into me and he sighs a little as he drinks his milk. His hand clutches my shirt. I know its not his fault. He is just a little person with fears and needs who is trying to understand this world. But that doesn't make it any easier. Maybe Ill just stay inside until he is at least 3 months old. Its just too stressful out there.