Back to Work

The end of the year also brought the end of my maternity leave.  As January 5th approached, I tried not to think about it, but it kept creeping closer and closer until it was the night before I went back to work and I was shaking with anxiety, overpacking my car with all the things Ezra would need in my office.

I cried the whole five minute drive to my school.  I spent the day trying to juggle Ezra and the emails I needed to answer, and it didn't work, so I cried some more.  I tried to be okay with leaving Ezra in the classroom, but within the first few minutes, an overly excited child tossed a foam block into the air and nailed my sweet baby in the head--which caused tears for the both of us.  My sweet Emma came by to ask me how it was going, and I cried some more while choking out, "It's so hard."  And being a mom, and one of my best friends, and the most empathetic person I know, she knew exactly what to say.  I still cried.  All of that is because crying is what I do now.  Now that I have a baby, the waterworks just won't shut off.

I've done this a thousand times with other moms.  I've seen them struggle to drop their babies off on that first and second and third day, week, month.  I've seen them cry while peeking through the observation window at their giggling babies.  I've answered their emails and phone calls, "just checking in!" and talked them down from the ledge.  I heard them when they said, "I can't do this.  Maybe this isn't for me.  Maybe I should quit my job.  I can't quit my job!  I don't know what to do!"  And I said the right things and gave them big hugs, and called to let them know it was going well--and took pictures of their babies so they'd know that it was all smiles.  So I thought it would be different for me, especially since I could have him any time I wanted, visit him, kiss him, see him, even wear him all day.  And maybe it was easier than most, but still not easy.  I spent the last 15 weeks holding Ezra to my chest, instinct telling me exactly what he needed at any moment.  I spent my whole days devoting 100% of my attention to the tiny extension of my heart.  And now the thought of relinquishing one. single. minute. to anyone, even teachers I know, and hired, and trust is enough to make me vomit.  The dull ache in my chest still feels heavy and achy.  Tonight, I think, worst of all.

Ezra's first nap without mom.  :(

We're four days into this new adventure, and tonight was the hardest night.  We had a total of 15 minutes to cuddle before Ezra became exhausted and cranky and extremely ready for bed.  We didn't get cuddle time on the couch.  We didn't get bath time where we sing at each other.  We didn't get before bed baby massage.  And we only got about 45 seconds of cuddle time in the rocker before He was out like a light.  I miss him.  It's hard to believe this time last week, I was unshowered and exhausted from running the daily baby care marathon.  And without that daily marathon, there is a hole in my heart.  So I held my sleeping baby and tried to stop my chin from quivering before bursting into huge, ugly, heaving mom-tears.  Cathartic. 

Being a mom is so hard sometimes.  It's so beautiful and rewarding and soul warming, but it comes with endless guilt, large emotions, and that ache.

I'm told all of this will get easier.  Maybe it will.
There are some joys.

I let Jason read Ezra's daily report from his teachers and he said, "Ezra did circle time!?  That's so funny!  What is circle time?"  When I explained that he probably sat in a teacher's lap and sang songs and watched a lot of one year olds dance around, Jason clapped his hands and laughed and seemed so genuinely excited for Ezra.

When I walk into his classroom (every hour!) and see my smiling baby, who is so entertained watching all the big kids and cuddling my friends/his teachers, my heart warms.

And if I'm being honest, it's nice to remember what alone time and personal space feels like.  It feels good to know I've accomplished something at the end of the day.  If I had the financial choice, I'd choose to stay home and watch The View.  But the alternative, working at my sweet school, isn't so bad and I'm so lucky to work five feet away from my sweet coconut.

Still, there's an ache, a hurt, a heart flutter that even illegally obtained Xanax cannot fix.