Another Tomorrow
It's my last day of maternity leave! WAAAAAHHH! Or so it was when I first wrote that sentence at 11 a.m. (It is now 9:45 p.m.) I had a vague notion to somehow make this last day special, but now that it's over, unless you can count using the toilet with the child on my lap as "special," it was pretty much just another day. Still, I'm lucky and grateful because at the very core it was a last day with an almost-four-month-old, which is something most working women in this country will never get. Longer paid maternity leaves--come on, Obamas!
Even more, for all I've bellyached about going back to work, you might not have guessed that I've negotiated a truly sweet deal with my company and am, in fact, head-over-heels-over-butt amazed at the arrangement we've worked out. Get this: I'm only going into the office one day a week and then working from home another day and a half, for a total of twenty hours. Only one day in the office and yet I act like tomorrow is the beginning of the end for me and Wombat. Silly Mama. You'll go to work all day Tuesday, and then on Wednesday morning it'll be all burp cloths and diaper pails just like old times! Don't look at it as the beginning of the end; look at it as an excuse to wear pants that don't cinch with a drawstring.
Okay, point taken, wise guy, but it is still a change, for all of us. For Wombat, it's going to be about learning to drink from a bottle (or learning to stage a hunger strike), and for Simon--Mr. Daddy Daycare--it's going to be about seeing just how deep his reserves of patience actually run. (Pretty deep, I think, but this will surely be a test.) For me, I think the hardest part won't be the new time commitment or forced separation but the new head-space commitment and forced focus. At this point in the game I'm more than competent with all the daily babycare stuff, but--ay, the rub--only to the exclusion of everything else; now that "everything else" is what pays the mortgage, however, I have to figure out a way to do it too all.
So, tonight while Simon is gearing up for a full day of crying (Wombat's), I'm gearing up for a full day of fighting back tears. I've thought about this transition a lot--like, even-before-I-was-pregnant a lot--and, having always known that I'd have to go back to work as a new mother, I've always feared this part, perhaps even more than labor and delivery(!). In the best of all possible worlds, I'd be one of those mothers who knew deep down she was a better, more whole person (and mother and wife-type being) for working outside the home; dropping off the kid at daycare would be a breeze because I'd know it was the Right Choice for My Family. Now, here I find myself on the brink of possibly the easiest back-to-work transition ever--only one day in the office, with Daddy as childcare--and I'm feeling a little lost. What if I cry the whole day at the office? What if I don't even tear up once and LOVE being there amongst the binder clips and fax machines and humans who wipe their own bottoms and don't shriek in my ear because LOOK! I'M STANDING! ON MY FEET! SQUEEEEEEE!!!!!? What if I miss my son too much/not enough? What if it (work? life?) never feels right again? What if I never feel right again?
Today I spent a few minutes clicking around Work It, Mom, for help and found this member question: "What did you do that helped you make the transition from maternity leave back to work a bit more manageable?" The best response? My esteemed colleague Lylah's comment: "I gave myself permission to feel conflicted." My giant exhale rustled the curtains in the next room.
So that's my goal for tomorrow: Not to make judgments about myself or the situation based on how I handle the transition, but to recognize, to acknowledge, to sit with, and to be at peace with whatever emerges--sadness, grief, liberation, relief, guilt about not being at home, or guilt at not wanting to be at home. Remember, remember, remember, this is just a transition. "Transition"--to flex my editor's muscles once again--is from the Latin roots "trans" and "situ," meaning "across" and "place" or "position." Tomorrow is not the beginning or end of anything but the in-between. Tomorrow is merely the step between Here and There, between Now and Later. Tomorrow, no matter how rough or how smooth, is not forever. "Tomorrow," from the Latin meaning "Everything's going to be okay."
Typing from the hospital where I'm recovering from the birth of our second daughter - good luck with returning to work. It is hard and painful, but hopefully you will find, like I did, that it really was the best choice you could have made. For me, the first week was intensely painful, the second week was painful, and the third week it all began to feel routine. Now I can't imagine not sending my girls to daycare since my toddler seems to thrive in that environment (and actually hates being home sick since she misses her friends, teachers, and school.)
Here's to discovering a new life that involves family and work...you will do a fabulous job as mama and employee. Good luck!
Aw, Leah. I know there is nothing I can say that will make this better or easier. So: (cheesy internet) hugs.
Good luck, mama. I hope it ends up being easier than you thought...and that someone treats you to lunch to at least make the day more agreeable.
And don't worry about crying at work. People will understand if they even notice. I am a crying-at-work veteran. All the cool kids are doing it!
that's the BEST advice ever. for real!
I'm thinking of you today, and am loving your advice. Whatever happens, happens. Feel however you want, but remember, there's nothing really to feel guilty about. (Though you are allowed to!)
Thinking of you today. Wishing you and the whole family all the best.
Just think how wonderful you'll feel when you get home later today :) And after that you'll have six straight days with little Wombat!
i totally cried my first day back at work.
oh & my son wouldn't take a bottle, i had to go visit him on my lunch break - yeah a part of me liked that. :-)
i totally cried my first day back at work.
oh & my son wouldn't take a bottle, i had to go visit him on my lunch break - yeah a part of me liked that. :-)
Thinking of all of you today.
I remember going back to work when Graham was 8 months old and leaving him in Daddy Daycare and being so horribly conflicted.
They were fine, and I was fine. At least until Matthew emailed me a photo of Graham holding a sign that said, "I Miss You Mommy." Sigh.
I wish you all the best. As, right now, you are probably at work. Hope it's a breeze and that you are even more overjoyed to be at home, once the work day is through (that's what I find, anyhow).
That is the most perfect way to say it. I too gave myself permission
to feel conflicted when I went back to work (part-time, like you).
There are some days I wish I was at home with my daughter and others where I'm just really happy to be amongst adults. I view it as the best of both worlds.
This aspect of motherhood had never even graced my brain until reading the last few entries of your blog. I really wish you well with it and I hope that you're able to come to peace with every emotion this transition entails.