On Going Back To Work

My three times daily work ritual - pumping in a conference room.

 So I survived my first week back at work.

I knew I would. It's not like it was an end of the world scenario, but leading up to this week, my heart and head made it seem like it was a tragedy. I knew that placing my baby in someone else's care during part of the week was inevitable and I tried not to think about it too much until I was at the very end of my maternity leave.

I did everything I could to prepare for life as two working parents - I made a ton of baby food and froze it. I went through all of Brighton's clothes and weeded out the items that didn't fit anymore and brought out some of her bigger sizes from storage. I made a detailed document about Brighton's eating and sleeping habits for her babysitters. I started pumping again (consistently) about a month ago, making sure I had plenty of milk as a backup supply. I was more diligent about getting her on a eating and napping cycle so her daytime caretakers would have an easier time following her cues.

In my last week on maternity leave, I tried to spend every moment I could just enjoying her, soaking her in. Every time I felt sad, I tried to count my blessings. I had almost six months with her after all - it was far more than most working parents received with their child. But then my last weekend before that dreaded Monday came and the anxiety hit me fast and hard. I spent most of Saturday night sweating through my shirt and pacing the house. Finally I had the sense to text some of my girlfriends and ask them to pray for me (Matt was at a birthday party). And they did and I felt an inkling of peace.

That Sunday night as I put Brighton to bed I told myself that something had to change - either my circumstances or my heart. I asked God to help me figure out which one to focus on and it was perfectly clear:

My heart needed to change.  As I prayed, I was reminded...

... that going back to work full-time is the right choice for right now. Of course I want to be at home full-time with my baby, but the right thing for our family is for me to work and receive a paycheck and all the benefits that come with it - like good health insurance and paid vacation and sick time and flexible work arrangements.

... that Brighton will be taken care of by her grandmothers, who are capable, healthy, amazing women who did a darn good job of raising me and Matt. They love my daughter fiercely and are eager to help care for her while Matt and I are at work during the day. I couldn't ask for better for my baby.

... that most of my co-workers are just like me - working mothers with young children. They are the most supporative team I could ask for because we are all trying to figure this thing out - working and providing and raising our children.

... that my boss will allow me to work from home two days a week, which allows me to see Brighton a little more and relives me of two days of pumping milk and washing bottles.

... that just because someone else is caring for my child during the day, I am still her mother. Matt and I are raising her, caring for her, providing for her. Working outside the home doesn't cancel that.

... that nothing is permanent. This job could go away tomorrow, or we could realize 6 months from now that this isn't the right choice anymore. I am not married to my job. I am not imprisoned by it either.


Monday morning came. And I cried before I left for work. And I cried on the way to work. And I teared up the minute anyone asked me about Brighton that morning.

I tried to hold it together so I thought of all the good things God reminded me of. I counted my blessings and the day got easier, and each day after was easier than the last. I started to feel peace in my heart. I still missed Brighton terribly and hated that my time during most of the week with her was limited to a morning nursing session and a few hours in the evening before she went to bed, but it turned out ok every single day. She was fine. I was getting there. And I know it will continue to get easier as time passes and that my heart won't feel so heavy each morning as I kiss my baby goodbye.

So for now, I am a working outside of the home mother. This is the hard choice I have made. I'm sure there will be days when I am grateful for my situation, and other days when I want to throw in the towel and quit; but since my circumstances aren't going to change right now, thankfully my heart has.