It’s funny how absolutely everything in your life can change in an instant. I mean everything. As I returned to work after my one year of government-paid maternity leave (for which I am incredibly grateful) I struggled once again to find my identity.
I have always worked. It may have been at Blockbuster, for
provincial government, or as a laborer for odd jobs such as painting but I
worked. I earned my way. Then suddenly, I was unemployed. Not only that but I
was “stuck” with this screaming thing that couldn’t do anything for himself and
needed me 24/7 and I had no idea what the f I was doing. I longed to go back to
work. I knew how to be a business analyst. I was good at it. I was interested in
it. No one screamed at me. I didn’t feel the need to hide in a closet and cry
for 20 minutes.
Then, as time passed and my little thing grew and began to
become a person, it got a little easier. Oh look, he can sit on his own. Oh he
can roll over! Haha, look, he is petting Newman. This is easier now that he can
eat solid food and feed himself. Boy do I love this baby led weaning stuff! Did
you see that! He stood on his own! Oh my goodness! Ahh! He took two steps! He’s
walking! When did he start walking!? And the list goes on. Those first giggles
and smiles. First foods, first steps.
My first love.
I love his dad immensely but my goodness, it’s incredible
the love I have for this little person. I would go to the ends of the earth and
back without batting an eye for him. I would gladly give up my life for him if
I needed to. It’s quite intense and it’s something I was not prepared for in
the slightest. I knew I would love him but I had no idea the extent of it.
I loved spending all day and all night with him. Of course,
I loved my little mommy moments too where I got to go to the store alone but I
always rushed home to get back to him. And he loves spending time with me too. He
is happy when I come home and sad when I leave. He’s my little wingman.
Cut to that last day of maternity leave. The sick feeling of
dread creeped into my psyche. That feeling of loss. That horrible feeling that
tomorrow I would be spending the most time I have ever spent away from him.
That I would have to wait all day before I could hold him, kiss him, nurse him,
see him smile and giggle. I felt ill.
But we get through it.
But now the pressure is on mommy to once again struggle with
her identity. This is something I was not prepared for. I need to relearn the
job, the people, the processes. I need to focus on work while trying to not
watch the ticking clock and counting down to the moment I can shut down the
computer and speed out of the parking lot to go home to see him. My priorities
and viewpoints have changed. It’s a tough transition.
I’m actually really excited about the goings on at work and
it is a very interesting point in my career but I face it with hesitation
knowing that this exciting stuff is not the same kind of exciting as my home life.
It’s all adjustments and recalibrating I suppose. But still, that face. He’s
what keeps me going. He is my fight, my drive, and my determination.
My love.
Photo credit: Kara Rohl
