We are in the waning moments of my maternity leave. Tonight I go to the HGTV 15th anniversary party. Tuesday, my first day back in the office, every minute of my day is booked with meetings. Seems my re-entry will be more like a cannonball into the deep end than the toes in the shallow I’d envisioned. But that’s fine, it’s just time.
I have all the standard feelings. I am looking forward to exercising that fast and critical part of my brain that I’ve had on snooze for a while. There are smart, fun people to see and I want to get back around a table with them.
And then I look at my boys. Their small, tender faces. I know I will struggle to walk out the door in the morning. I’m more concerned with Alden’s reaction than I am with Elliot. The freezer has enough milk, although I wish it were more. He’s got a loving daddy to hold and jiggle him. Alden, however, quickly got used to 24/7 Mommy and I fear he and Damon are in for some plaintive days. I know he’ll be fine. I’m not worried that he’ll be damaged or that he won’t get used to it, probably sooner than my ego would like. But he will be sad. And that makes me sad. I’ll also be sad because I got used to 24/7 boys and I really dug it. I’m signing Alden up for a Monday-night Kindermusik class so that we can get a little 1:1 time during the week.
Oh, and I mortally hate pumping. The thought of all the chilly hours I will spend in the lactation room (which I am grateful to have) makes me feel a bit sick. It is only during that time that I feel like an unnatural mother. All my instincts are saying, “That should be your baby, but instead you’re feeding a machine.” It’s not rational, I know, it’s just how I feel. I also once got some of the most traumatic news of my life while using my pump, and now there is an unfortunate association I haven’t been able to break. I get a little shudder when I plug it in. Drama drama. I’ll push past it. Baby needs milk.
And Momma needs to get ready. Time to dust off the heels and the flat iron!
jaysaint 