Tomorrow is my last official day of maternity leave. Wow- this just dawned on me. I know that the date has been slowly creeping up, but life has been to busy for me to dwell on it. And honest to God, I haven't felt sad until I typed that first sentence. Now, I am sitting here- head in hand- feeling awful.
Let me jump back a few years for a moment. Returning to work following my huge leave with Miles (all of spring and summer) was equivalent to learning how to re-breath oxygen independently. He and I were so close for those months, and we had shared to scariest and most stressful times together- not to leave out absolute blissful moments of wonderment and miracles. Caring for him had become such a natural extension of myself that leaving him every morning for school left me in tears during my daily commute for weeks. With time, the transition, as most typically do, got easier. And by the following year, leaving for work was a piece of cake (except for the fact that I leave before the sun is even awake).
Flip back to this moment, and I am right back in that difficult position. Self-created for sure, but none the less heartbreaking. Every cell in my body is attached to that darling baby girl; we don't go for very long without contact. I think to date the longest we've been apart was 7 hours- and nothing else comes even close to that. We both light up when we greet each other from nap breaks and play sessions. She literally purrs in my arms; I've never heard any other baby make this sound. We giggle, snuggle, tickle, and gaze for hours every day, and it's as if my arms were especially molded for her tiny body- that we were made for each other. For 9 months and then another 12 weeks, we've been inseparable. Literally.
In preparation for my return, I introduced Penelope to the bottle about three weeks ago. Since then my milk supply has been slowly dwindling. Even though she will still latch, I have to supplement all feeding with additional formula. I can no longer make enough milk for her. I'm wondering if even the thought of pumping at work has taken a psychological toll on the situation, but that's just speculation. This in itself has been very upsetting; I would prefer that she exclusively gets breast milk, but that is now beyond my control. Her health is what comes first and foremost, and homegirl likes to eat. From the moment she arrived, Penelope has been wonderful at feeding. She immediately latched following her delivery- just seconds after popping out she knew what to do. Truth be told, she near ate off my nipples in those early days, though thankfully, we were able to develop a fantastic feeding routine (and nipples of steel). This meant the world to me because breast feeding Miles was very difficult and stressful. Anyone who has ever struggled with breastfeeding can attest that feeling- it sucks, hands down, especially when this is a topic ripe for new mommy boastings. Penelope's enthusiasm and receptiveness not only boosted my confidence as a mom and gave me some redemption in my ego department. Furthermore, it only added to our bond. We went from Super Glue to electromagnetic status. Perhaps, dare I say, Super Strings attachment?
Anyways...
I am getting a little too upset to finish this post. I'd much rather spend this time watching her dream than reflecting on how sad I am about going back to work. Besides, we all do what we have to do for our families, right? Isn't that the role of a parent? In my case, I am the sole carrier of our health insurance policy- so there is no wiggle room- my buns are due back on Monday. I just hope both Miles and Penelope will someday know that every hour I spent working, taking classes, commuting, and completing professional development programs, I did for them. Though I am exceedingly proud of my profession and feel very, very, very blessed to have my job, I would instantly opt to stay home if it were feasible. Besides, as we all know, my passion for special education runs very deep; I will always be involved in the community in some fashion or another.
While my very being craves to stay at home with my children, I must spend some of that time away to ensure that we have a home to share together. Once again I am finding myself in awe of the power of parenthood- the pain of sacrifice and the love that keeps you going... even when your motivation is waiting for you in someone else's arms.
