An Unfamiliar Place

Slept for 10 hours last night. But I woke up with a raging headache, and after only one beer last night. Dreamt that a close friend betrayed me, and another one turned to crime (highly unlikely, in either case, since the first is my closest friend and has never given me any reason to distrust her and the second is married and a mother of 2 and has never done anything more criminal than underage drinking). But I have these dreams sometimes (involving people I think I know doing things that are totally out of character) when I've been away from home for a few days. Especially when I'm in an unfamiliar place.
And I am definitely in unfamiliar territory. Here, our days are structured around the ever-changing feeding and sleeping needs of a 7-pound, 2-week old baby. We are a drive (and an hour-long process involving the folding and unfolding of the stroller, the procurement and adjustment of several blankets, and the strapping in of the baby and the car seat) away from a latte, a bookstore, a deli--even a convenience store.
We're surrounded by variations of my sister's 80-year-old house (which is easily three times as big as my apartment in New York--and she owns it). We are a good 30 to 45-minute drive away from the city of Chicago--and a 15-minute drive to the train station. My 'gym' consists of a stair climber in the (furnished) basement that my sister and her husband ordered off a late-night infomercial.
At night, we order submarine sandwiches or Thai food and watch television and play board games. In the mornings, my sister and I sit around in sweats, eating toasted Lender's bagels from a plastic bag.
When I told my sister, an Ivy League grad with a medical degree, that I was writing a blog, she looked at me quizzically and asked: "A what?" My brother-in-law had no idea that Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt were married, much less separated. When I pointed to the headline in the Tribune's Tempo section on the rumors that the couple split in part because Pitt wanted to be a father but Aniston wanted to focus on her career, he said "Who cares?" and pulled out the sports section.
The furniture in the dining and living room are covered with dog hair (their one-and-a-half-year-old dog is only allowed to put her front legs up on the couch, but she's got some long legs). And there are dog toys and baby-related paraphenalia--baby books, blankets, breast pump, and bath--wherever you look. It's easy to lose track of time between the feeding, bathing, and changing of the baby.
Their lives these days involve the baby, the dog, and each other (not necessarily in that order). And there is not room for much more (except for my brother-in-law's job, which takes him away from home from dawn until dinnertime).
My life in NYC revolves around my husband, my career, my friends, and my city--probably in that order, though work occasionally gets in the way of my other priorities. For the most part, though, I have control over how and where I spend most of my days. We're mobile and we're out most of the day--even on weekends.
Mobility, control, a social life, and a career--how much will we have (or want) to give up when we have a baby?