Tonight marked a big moment: our first evening out. Together.

Just us. In real clothes with other real  adults. Not the make believe ones I get used to on Netflix. For the record — those would be the Vampire ones from the Vampire Diaries. I am such a sucker for that show. This is the one perk to late night feedings — endless eps of VD to catch up on.  And no, that’s not code for the STD. I really am talking about the show.

I forgot just how good it is to get out and connect with others till tonight.

So now I’m quickly pumping on the right side so I can wake Baby J, feed on the left and pray pray pray my ass off that he falls back asleep so I can sleep.

At some point today, I can’t quite say exactly when it happened — perhaps somewhere between me answering phone calls with a finger while I breastfed and singing Beyonce to stop FOH’s crying — I felt a sense of normalcy.

I had been missing you, normal, and for a while there, I thought you were way overrated. Normal? Right, who wants to be that? See — that was pre-FOH me.

Now-Me wanted to cry tears of joy for that emotion. For feeling, finally, this was all simply everyday routine. My normal go-to.

It’s taken eight and a half weeks and I am so thankful to have reached this point. This fills me with the reassurance that yes, it really will get better.

And better.