Today my little princess is six months old. I really don't know how we got here. I feel like I've lost years of time let alone a mere 6 months. Everyone says that time flies once you have children; you're so busy you can't keep up with yourself and every second of this new little life you are responsible to nurture and love. These past six months are more like a murky fog than anything else.
I still feel it - that pain in my chest - all day when I'm at work. My alarm goes off and I hit snooze for a half hour. I can't put my little angel back in bed yet; I want to cuddle a few more minutes. I don't want to miss her chest rise and fall; I don't want to miss her eye lids flutter during her dreams. She smells so sweet, so comforting: I just can't do it. I take a deep breath and fight back the droplet on my cheek and place her gently back in the co-sleeper. I remind myself that this is the life we've created, and I need to make sure she has a roof over her head and food in her tummy; it's my job to go to work to give her a good life. We are lucky that daddy can care for her during the day. But all day...I stare out the window, attempting to maintain an upward curve in my lips so that the staff around me doesn't ask what's wrong or how are you today.
They don't understand. Well some do. Those lucky ones who get to work from home at least a few days a week. They give me that knowing look and head back to their desk. The others just write me off any more. They think I just don't want to work. Maybe that's part of it, but not because "I don't want to," but because I can't accept this modern world where the mommy has to be away from her baby just to make ends meet. What happened to our society. I used to scoff at the "family values" discussions, and now...now I understand.
Those weeks leading up to my return to work were the most painful.
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