Giggles, and Going Back to Work

Since I had been TTC for a while before we met R, I was able to save enough money to take 5 months off from work. I'm SOOOOO glad that I did. I needed that time to bond with R. As I have mentioned before, the first three months were spent just trying to survive my postpartum depression and the colic. And then somewhere in between the second and third months giggles happened. Giggles that I caused! My son was starting to bond with me and I with him. The 4th and 5th months were spent strengthening that bond, which I desperately needed because I wondered daily if I had what it took to make a decent mother. My biggest fear was that I did not, and my lack of bond/connection played into that fear. But giggles happened, and smiles at me, and belly laughs, and naps in my arms, and reaching for me. Sitting up, touching grass for the first time, and tasting and making faces at food. It was in these mundane daily acts that I started to feel connected to my son.

It was also at this time that I had to go back to work. Ah the irony...when all I wanted to do was get away I had to stay at home with the baby, and just when I was starting to feel like my place, purpose and joy were wrapped up in being with my little chunky monkey that is the exact time I had to go back to work. That last week at home was tough. I cried at everything. I hated that I was going to miss all those firsts and all the cuddles and giggles but I knew this was part of the deal.

When I found out that it wasn't going to be easy for me to get pregnant I felt an urgency to start trying. The original plan was to wait until my husband could financially support us himself. But with the uncertainty of when or how long it would take for us to get pregnant, we took the leap. I know it hurt my husband to see me moping around the house as my return to work date neared. I know he wished he could give me my heart's desire, but he also reminded me that this was the risk we took when we started trying ahead of schedule.

I had to remind myself that as I was TTC I had asked for god's timing in it all and that I would learn to surrender my sense of control in exchange for trust that god would provide (a baby, or if no baby then the healing and courage to embrace my new life path) and in the right time. And here I was with the prayed-for-baby, questioning god's timing. How could I leave him?

An army of working moms reached out to me, sympathy in their eyes, offering me their strength and courage. My mother was one of them. She was sad, and, I imagine, relived those painful days when she had to leave me and my brother as I cried to her. She affirmed my grief, and conceded that it is hard, but it would get easier, and it would be okay.

My greatest comfort was that R would be staying with his papa. J adjusted his schedule so that he could watch R the majority of the time I was away. But there was still guilt and fear. Now a year has gone by and the fear (of R not wanting/knowing me) has all but disappeared. The guilt, however, that lingers and somedays it wells up and lands heavy on me, and all I can do is stand in it and wait for it to settle back down. Days like when my husband confessed that he saw our son take his very first steps but he didn't tell me right away because he wasn't sure how I would take it. Days like when the sitter is leaving and my son cries and reaches for her. Days like when my son figures out how to say, "Xbox" and I wasn't there to marvel at his genius. I know more days like those lie ahead. I also know that I am working, not because I don't love my son, but because I do! I love him so so so much! And this is the sacrifice I have to make for our family, for him.

Going back to work definitely has its challenges, but THANK GOD for giggles and cuddles and special times like these!