We made it...

This past week I returned to work.

Prior to taking my maternity leave I thought I would be ready to go back after a few weeks.  I did not expect to want to stay home with Rocco.  People told me I was going to struggle toward the end of my time off. But I did not believe them.  I did not understand how much Rocco would change me emotionally.  My job is important to me and my assumption was that I would be ready to jump back in. However, I started to have a melt down about a month ago.  I realized I wanted  my full time job to be motherhood.  I no longer had interest in my paycheck.  The time, money, and energy I invested in getting my masters was no longer important.  I am a Mama now.  This is my purpose.

The thought of spending time away from him made my chest hurt.  Going to Barefoot Bunz for an hour at the gym causes severe separation anxiety.  I start thinking of him halfway through any class a the gym.  I don't want to miss anything.  Not one coo.  Not one smile.  Not one seedy, mustard colored poop.

Returning to work was not a decision.  I HAD to.  Eric is self employed and I am the benefit carrier.  Plus I have student loans to pay.  Loans I took out took out so I could get the education needed to have a career.  So, I took as much time as I could financially and started counting down the days.

The day I went back I broke all of my rules and ignored the routine I was desperately trying to master before my return to work.  I let Rocco lay on my chest all day.  He was allowed to nap there.  Nurse himself to sleep.  While we did all of this I whispered to him how much I love him.  I told him how much Mama would miss him while she was gone.  Crying on him the entire time.

When I handed him to Eric he asked why the baby was all wet.

I cried in the car on the 15 minute ride to the hospital.  I swiped my badge through the time clock.  I focused on my breathing on the elevator.  Opened my office door.  Dropped my purse on the floor.  Attached my key to my hip.  Made sure I had a pen.   And I dove right in.

Halfway through my shift I realized that I enjoy what I do.  I love counseling and case management.  I enjoy working with alcoholics and drug addicts.  I like my coworkers (although my Wolfpack is currently broken up) and have a great boss.

Going back to work wasn't that bad.  Although the night seemed to drag on.  I couldn't WAIT to get home and see Rocco even though I knew he would be in bed.

I walked in the door.  Unhooked the key from my hip.  Threw my bag on the floor.  And sat down next to Eric to get a detailed minute by minute report about how many ounces he ate, when he had his diaper changed last, and how long he had been asleep.  I was in the door about 5 minutes when I heard Rocco start to cry through the baby monitor.  It was a little early for him to wake up.  Maybe he knew I was finally home.

I'm exhausted.  It is a challenge getting up in the morning after a night of choppy sleep.  Rocco is the cutest in the morning, too.  He smiles and coos.  It is hard to say goodbye to him.  And it is also difficult to come home, feed him, bathe him, and then put him to bed.  Putting him to bed is alot of work!!!

All of the guilt, the sadness, the tears, separation anxiety....That is all about me.  Rocco is fine.  He is too small to know how long or how often I am gone.  He gets to be with his dad when I am at work which I am tremendously grateful for.  It was me I was worried about, not him.  So I guess selfishness doesn't go out the window entirely when you have a baby.

Rocco and I are going to spend the next two days together.  I'm so excited.