Stay at Work Momma

I have a friend who came back to school yesterday after a two-month maternity leave. She is a strong and proud person and I have a feeling she’s hurting a little more than she would like to admit. No shame in that, I say. Leaving Daphne at home after our first summer together was harder than I ever thought it would be.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this idea lately – staying home with a babe. Daphne was sick a week or two ago and because I am salaried, I stayed with her while Matt went to work. What a tough week with a feverish baby – the worry, my cabin fever, the sad. I also work with two women who are choosing to stay home next year. One is going to open her own in-home daycare including her brand new wee one just born last week. The other is going to stay home with her son who will be here any day while she teaches online college courses. I both recoil and have to suppress the green monster of jealousy when I think about their new adventures.

Would I like to spend every day with Daphne? Yes! No!
Our first summer together was a unique time in my life for a lot of reasons. Matt and I were new parents, I’m sure my hormones were out of control, it was my first summer without a summer school gig to occupy my time and it was literally 108 degrees for much of July. Four-week old babies don’t love that sort of heat in case you didn’t know. Just getting into the car from the grocery store would send little Daph’s cheeks to a brink pink hue.

After the first few difficult weeks of figuring out feedings (damn you, breast pump!) and sleeping, and finding time to shower and eat, we settled into a new schedule. Schedules are funny, aren’t they? I’ve have more “routines” in the last ten months than ever before. As soon as I realize we are in a new pattern, Daphne decides to change it. I guess that means we are just going with her flow, but I didn’t even realize we had cut out her third nap until about two weeks after it happened. FYI: we are now down to two long naps every day. Now that I’ve said that, I’m sure she’ll start to change it again. Thank goodness Mother Nature knows what she’s doing, because if she didn’t, I’m not sure Daphne would have increased slowly to three solid meals per day. She probably wouldn’t be cutting out naps as she grows older and she wouldn’t know how to use a cup or eat with her hands. I know I took a part in all of those developments, but really, Daphne and nature are running this show.

I was blessed with 10 full weeks of summer break as my maternity leave. I didn’t have to take any sick days and I had an extended time with her before going back to work. I was so lucky.

And it was so hard.

I have a friend who told me once, “It’s lonelier to stay home with a child than it is to stay home by yourself.” Sounds bleak, but I am starting to agree with her. When I’m home by myself I am free to do what I want, when I want, how I want and with whom I want to do it. When I’m home with Daphne, she is my world and sometimes I realize that at the end of the day I haven’t spoken to another adult, looked up or left my house at all. About halfway through my maternity leave, I realized I was stressed out about this and needed to regroup. Poor Matt. For a week or two, he was greeted by an unshowered me, holding out our babe for him to take as he walked through the door. The stress was downright tangible.

Even so, going back to work caused an ache I didn’t know I would feel. I knew it would be tough. Everyone from my friends to my hairstylist said it was one of the hardest things they’ve done. Matt and I dropped off Daphne together that first day. We were utterly out of all groceries so he stopped at McDonald’s before meeting me there to grab me a coffee and an Egg McMuffin (this was pre-egg allergy diagnosis). When we left our daycare provider’s house, he handed me my muffin before we said goodbye and parted ways. I held it together until I saw that darn breakfast sandwich. What is that about? I’m not really sure why that triggered tears, but I cried and stuffed my face with eggs and cheese on an English muffin until I got to school. Have I told you the story about crying and eating an entire plate of fries with ranch dressing while I sat by myself and waited for Matt’s emergency splenectomy to end? I’m pretty sure I have a stress eating….problem. But that story is for another day.

[Picture: first day of school]

Just like most areas of life, this one is totally grey for me. I want more time with Daphne. I want to feel like I’m connecting with the outside world. I want to make sure she is getting everything she needs to develop into a well-rounded, level-headed and kind person. I want a reason to shower and put on something other than yoga pants every day. I want to read Daphne stories. I want to read something other than board books. I want to make Daphne’s food from scratch. I want to eat lunch with other adults. Balance it is. Balance is what I want. Maybe that statement applies to every part of my life.

I’m lucky enough to have a job to go to every day. I have my routines and my job that allows me some unstructured time in the summer to be with my girl. I’m happy for my colleagues who have figured out what they want because the decision is so unique and personal. I’m happy that they are financially able to pursue their desires and sad for those who cannot. For me, I’ve decided that this is the right choice and that we are going to continue to do just fine as we continue the hunt for balance.