The End-of-Maternity-Leave blues

I’m a rip-off-the-band-aid kind of person. The longer I marinate in something scary or sad, the more upset, anxious, depressed I get – so the faster I can get it over with, the better. Unfortunately, tomorrow hasn’t been something I can rip off. It’s been noted on my calendar for about 2 months. And the harder I’ve tried to live in the moment, the faster it’s seemed to come. Tomorrow I go back to work.

I never thought I’d ever consider staying home. I like working. I like being around people. I like feeling productive. If I was going to be a mom, I was going to be a working mom, and there was never a question in my mind about that. Sitting in the glider today, feeding my son, measuring with my eyes the shape of his right ear and noticing the arch of his right eyebrow and watching his inexplicably blue eyes flit back and forth, I had nothing but questions.

Maternity leave has been nothing like what I thought it would be. It’s had its requisite hardships—short-on-sleep nights, hours-long crying jags by day, startling health news and difficult decisions to be made. But I woke up every day happy, and every night, I went to sleep feeling I accomplished something special. I felt useful. I felt capable. Even in the times I felt I didn’t have the answers, I felt I had the capacity to do something to solve a situation. And through it all I felt unconditionally supported and loved.

I know a lot of that doesn’t end tomorrow. I’ll come home every day to that support and love and, most of all, an adorable little boy who will keep growing and amazing me every day regardless of whether I’m around for every moment. But I can’t help feeling like I’m departing a gorgeous utopian island I’ll never be allowed to return to. I can’t help feeling that I’ll never be that happy and complete again. I can’t help wondering, for the first time, if staying home with my son is what my dream job really is.

For now, though, it’s time to sleep, time to get in a few last cuddles, time to get ready, and time to start again.

Previous
Previous

Thanks, Stu

Next
Next

One unexpected gift of being pregnant