I Can Do This by Kelsie Christensen

“You’re an adult woman, you can do this!” my husband Bob says over the phone from 1,500 miles away, as I dress our four-month-old son, Emmett.

“I’m so nervous,” I reply. “I don’t know any of these people.”

There are many things I didn’t expect as a new mom, forced mom outings being one of them.

If only my anxiety would calm down.

The sun is setting as I load Emmett into the car, still on the phone with Bob. “Who knew free dinner would be such a driving force to get me out of the house?” I joke. “New mom life.”

We arrive at the old brick school where the moms group is held, and I strap Emmett into the front pack. “I’ll call you when we’re heading home,” I tell Bob as we hang up.

Walking down the ramp into the building’s basement, I feel nauseous. “We can do this, right buddy?” I ask Emmett.

I hear kids playing and moms chatting from down the fluorescent-lit hall. I take a deep breath and walk in. Moms are on the left by a big table covered with taco fixings. Kids are to the right playing in a padded area with so many toys and activities. Emmett will LOVE this place when he gets bigger, I think.

With Emmett still strapped to my chest, I get some food and walk to another room, where I sit down at a plastic folding table with ten other women, a huge ball of anxiety in my stomach. What do I even talk about? My whole world revolves around this tiny person. Am I even interesting anymore?

Turns out they can relate.

I chat with a mom of two whose husband is also a truck driver. I ask if being a trucker’s wife with kids ever gets easier. “Kind of…not really,” she answers. At least she’s being honest.

The woman sitting next to me has a baby girl strapped to her as well – a three-month old, she tells me. We exchange numbers so we can meet up for a walk, and have another adult to talk to. I feel my anxiety lessening.

After two hours, I walk outside into the dark. I can’t wait to call Bob and tell him how it went. I can’t believe I had the guts to go – to meet new people, and to take Emmett along to something that’s actually for me. I plan to go again next month. I appreciate knowing I’m not alone and now have a community I can turn to.

I am an adult woman, I think to myself, as I strap Emmett into his car seat. And I can do this.