November 5, 2013. The date that had seemed so unimaginably far away in the early and 
endless days of August hovered over me as the last few days of my maternity leave ticked away. Returning to work seemed utterly daunting. Just the thought of physically getting to work – leaving my son with his grandmother, driving a mile to the train station, sitting on the train for 45 minutes, and then walking the 15 minutes from North Station to our office on Bromfield Street – made me feel edgy and anxious. This baby had been my little appendage for 12 straight weeks – plus the nine months before that – and I didn’t really remember how to be without him. It was disconcerting.
Ironically, the first day my husband went back to work the week after Sam was born, I was desperate to join him. He got to sit on a train for 45 relaxing minutes, and go to a place where he knew exactly what he was doing, and where he had a clearly defined role and expectations. On the other hand, I had to clumsily navigate an entirely new world full of endless diapers, feedings, and naps; just getting out of the house felt like a huge accomplishment, particularly as the days morphed into a continuous 24-hour loop. Of course, as the weeks went on, the physical part of parenting got easier and easier. And, as Sam started smiling and cooing and generally engaging with me and the world around him, it became incredibly fun, rewarding, and satisfying in a way that I had never experienced.
I had made the decision to return to work well before having my son, and I felt confident that it was the right decision for me and for our growing family – if I could make it work. I considered the amount of time off; paid vs. unpaid leave; work coverage issues; childcare options and costs; train schedules; work travel. While some of these conversations and negotiations – both with my boss and with myself – were uncomfortable and difficult, it was pretty easy to reason through them clearly and logically. What totally took me by surprise was how attached I would become to my kid; knowing that you will love your baby is totally different than experiencing it, and that emotional pull was overwhelming. All of the logic in the world paled when I heard Sam cry. Or saw him laugh, smile, stretch, sleep, eat, grab, yawn… (as a new parent, everything he did seemed miraculous and perfect, designed to make me fall deeper in love with him).
That first November day back at work was a whirlwind – I don’t think that I even turned my computer on until mid-day. I caught up with friends and coworkers, figured out a pumping plan, and just generally marveled at what it was like to speak with adults all day. It turns out that thinking about how difficult it would be to leave Sam was worse than actually doing it. Returning to work was interesting and stimulating in a totally different way, and I felt a renewed sense of purpose – although I did have to periodically remind myself to stop narrating my thoughts and actions out loud to my friend and office-mate. I also had to restrain myself from getting right up in someone’s face and shouting “Bless You!!” whenever I heard a sneeze – a move that always got huge giggles from Sam, but probably wouldn’t have been appreciated by my coworkers!
It was incredibly difficult navigating work and home life, particularly that first year when Sam could change so dramatically from one week to the next. I worried about missing things, and screwing up his routines. It became a very scheduled existence for me, balancing the early mornings at home with Sam; the commute to work; the work itself; the pumping every few hours; the mad dash to make my train every evening; and the evening play/tub/bed routine with Sam. As tough as that balance could be – particularly adding in extras like colds, sleep regressions, and work travel – it ended up making me a better parent and a better worker. I became significantly more efficient at my job – I was working smarter, wasting less time, and staying on top of everything because I was busier and my day felt more condensed; I couldn’t stick around until 7 or 8pm finishing everything because I needed – and wanted – to get home and switch into parent-mode. It also allowed me to fully engage when I was at home and could concentrate completely on enjoying my time with Sam. Of course, there were days and moments where it felt like too much, and when it seemed like I wasn’t able to work or parent particularly well; but in general, the experience has taught me to be more patient, adaptable, and a more skilled problem-solver.
It is interesting to think back on this period of time now, particularly as I see Sam thriving as an almost two-year-old. He is curious, funny, and happy – and also very willful, active, and loud! Clearly, my worries about him surviving and thriving without me were for naught, but I have no doubt that a lot of those thoughts will resurface this fall, when it is time for me to return to work again after my second maternity leave.
Being a parent is hard; as soon as we get into a good rhythm, something inevitably rocks the boat and makes us recalibrate – whether that is an illness, a developmental leap, a tooth, or a second baby. It has also made me realize how interesting and exciting it can be to learn how to do something new – and how rare that experience can be once you become an adult.
Now, as I end this blog, a request: Can someone please remind me that I feel this way in October?!
Image credit: Microsoft