Dang. 5:30am comes quick.
Leaving your precious baby is like soccer tryouts. Going in, you think you just need to survive day 1. At the end of day 1, you realize day 2 is going to be even worse, because you're going to have to do all the same things over again but this time you're going to be sore from day 1.
What's worse than pumping? Washing bottles.
Why didn't it occur to me that putting on mascara these past two mornings was a bad idea?
What will happen quicker: Nora's adjustment to being in day care or her teachers' adjustment to having six new kids with new schedules? Are they even reading the form I filled out?
You literally can't go anywhere without seeing a mom with her baby. Even a college campus. One minute it makes me feel warm and fuzzy, the next it makes me tear up.
It's not fair to put a baby in day care when, in the same week, she really starts crawling and you have to put away a set of the clothes she's outgrown. You're supposed to get adequate time to mourn/celebrate each new stage individually.
Did they get any tennis in today? Remember when I used to know everything that happened at the US Open?
What would Kim Clijsters do?
I hope she knows I'm not just doing this for me. That eventually, I think she will like being there. That eventually, she'll be thankful to have grown up with a mom who had a rewarding career.
How many baby photos at my desk is too many?
How is it possible that packing the car for a day of being apart from your baby requires three times as much stuff as a day when you're taking your baby everywhere?
Who are all these people walking around my department? Have I really been gone so long that someone I used to speak to regularly is calling me Melissa?
Why is screaming at the top of her lungs her manner of letting me know she's happy to see me at the end of the day?
How will you know if she spent most of her first day crying? Her face will be red the whole evening. How will you know they're telling the truth when they say she cried less on day two? Her face will get back to normal shortly before bedtime.
Dang. 10pm comes quick.
Oh Melissa, I'm so sorry today was hard. :o)
ReplyDeleteReally though. I know how this can feel, and it feels like a combination of utter exhaustion, selfishness, self-pity, self-hatred, and a swarm of existential questions about what makes a good parent, what fulfillment means, what money means, what ever could matter more than that 7 hours with your baby, etc.
But here are my quick encouragements:
As with many other decisions, your baby will be happiest if you are happy. Nora is thriving, and she will keep thriving because she is confident that you love her. That won't change, regardless of your work.
I haven't taken oral exams, but I've spent three years as a graduate student and parent (as has Bill). And, if you didn't work in the way you are, you would literally never have breathing time as a family. We spent the last three years passing the kids back and forth on weekends, so the other could read, write papers, etc. Or rushing to coffee shops after dinner and leaving the other to pick up the pieces. This way, you may have some semblance of a normal family life, in the face of pretty serious, self-moderated/-motivated work.
The balancing act will only get easier. Like all things, this is a season. It will change by the semester, and you will have summers "free." That will feel like paradise, and is a killer perk.
You know yourself. Separate yourself from you as whatever constitutes you idea(l) of a "mom." Because you're a great mom, and you can't help that, so think about Liz. (It's ok to do that.) Weigh what matters to *you* (which, if I know you, will include how you will feel about its ripple effects on your family) and do what feels most right. No matter what that is.
Ok, this was not short and I have much more. I'm sure you've thought of all these things. But I'm grasping at straws to try and let you know I'm behind you. :o)
Whoa. Or take no advice from the person who wrote, "Separate yourself from you as whatever constitutes you idea(l) of a 'mom.'" Holy heavens. I dare you to guess what that even means.
ReplyDeleteThe second week is the worst, then it gets easier. You'll get back into your groove as a thinking woman and that's when you'll FEEL that you're doing the right thing, not just know it in your head. I promise it gets better. You won't cry every time you see a mom with her baby, or every time you think of what Nora might be doing when you're not with her. You'll just smile, knowing she's having fun with her new friends. You'll know you're giving her a gift by sending her to day care -- it's a different gift than the one you can give her when she's at home with you, but it's still a gift.
ReplyDeleteKrista, much better. Agreed.
ReplyDeleteThanks, ladies. One foot in front of the other...
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