Story of my life right there. Pump on the table. Haven’t had time to actually pump any yet. Baby toys. Teether. Cup of tea I finally drank after reheating twice. More baby toys on the floor. And me stuck in front of the TV because when little one is not having it and just wants to sleep in your arms, you literally do nothing except let her sleep in your arms because that’s what is best for her.
And I know if this were a more popular blog I would probably get comments like, “just go put her down in her crib and do what you need to do,” or “take care of yourself first!” But I honestly don’t agree with that. Not trying to rile up anyone’s feathers.
At this point, she is what matters most. Her needs before mine. And obviously I don’t mean completely neglecting my own, but if she needs to take a nap in my arms because she is overtired and being near me is the only thing that comforts her, then I will make that sacrifice and let her do it.
Everything else can wait. The dishes can wait. The laundry can wait. Making the bed can wait.
Because instead, I’m choosing her.
Because every time I decide not to choose her is a moment I don’t really get back and she is growing far too rapidly for me to take for granted these moments.
I believe it’s more important for my little to know I am there for her instead of choosing other things over her. I think in the long run it will help her grow more confident and feel more secure. She will know she is important and loved because she will feel like I am placing importance on her needs.
Anyway, aside from all that. The depression is creeping back in, guys.
She brings me so much joy though and that is probably what helps me get by but also fuels it at the same time. How is that so, you say? Well because I know my endless days with her are coming to an end very soon.
About a month and a few days to be exact. And then I have to dreadfully return to work.
Trust me, if I had it my way, I would not be returning.
I am definitely not one of those moms that’s are career minded women who almost find going back to work as a break from their children. No offense.
No matter how hard the days of taking care of her are, I would rather choose being with her over being at work. And it’s not because I dislike my job, it’s not that bad, it’s just because I believe that a child needs their mother at the very least for the first year (if not more) of life.
I believe it is a crucial time of development and having the mother close by would further help the child develop properly. There is something about the mother/child bond. It’s healthy and magical.
And I think it’s rather cruel to expect new moms to just go back to work shortly after their child is born.
I mean some women don’t mind it at all. Like I said, they feel like it’s a nice break, going back to work and interacting with adults again. But for me, I feel quite opposite. I never interacted much as it was so it would make no difference. I quite enjoy being a homebody and spending every minute with her. I love watching her reach her milestones and taking care of her every need. I love breastfeeding on demand and cuddling as we sleep in until 10am. I love watching her eyes light up when she wakes up in the morning. I love our routines and lack thereof.
But, I am forced to go back. Why? Because we need the money. Because America fails and only provides six weeks of paid time off for their mothers and it’s not even full pay, but barely enough to get by.
And this is why my depression is back. Because I am crying daily knowing that our carefree time together is coming to an end.
I am dreading it so much. I am literally in fear that I won’t be able to even do my job due to the stress and sadness I will feel. And even if I am able to perform, I am afraid that my milk will dry up due to that same stress.
And that will bring me even more sadness.
I don’t know what to do. I have so much anxiety over this.
I spent all night while she was asleep on websites looking for work from home positions. But honestly, it’s just not realistic.
I make too much. My benefits are superior. I’ve been with my company for 15 years so I have seniority.
I can’t just quit. I have too much debt. I’m a slave to it and it angers me.
And any work from home position I find is either some type of MLM crap or they pay very, very little. It’s almost impossible to find a real job that allows you to work remotely unless you’re some crazy graphic designer that can do their job from anywhere.
Note to self: learn graphic design.
I’m so afraid she will forget me. I’m so afraid she won’t feel the same bond. I’m so afraid she won’t grow up the way I’d like her to if I were in control over her care. I’m so afraid of something happening while I’m gone.
My fear and worry feels endless. I wish there was something I could do.
I feel like I can’t even pray about it. My mine feels to scattered, too overwhelmed to even let God in lately. All I can do is utter the words, “help.”
Please do something, Father. I don’t want to leave my baby…
And yet so many women do it. Why am I any different? Why am I special? I’m not. I have to go back just the same as they went back. And I’m sure they did not want to go back just the same as I don’t. But what can you do?
All you can do is keep hoping, keep praying for some magical opportunity that will allow you to stay at home with your little babe.
Some would say trust in the Lord for He knows best. I know He does, but why would He allow this? This separation? There has to be another way…
Here’s to praying…
Here’s to hoping…
Just when I thought the sadness was gone, another form of it walks in.
Mama with grace