Three weeks left of maternity leave, why have we done this to ourselves? It's the moments like this that I long for the 1950s Leave it to Beaver world. Life seemed so simple then, and mom got to stay home and bake and raise her family. Then again, I know. I know that's not how it really works: that world is fantacized and romanticized. I can comfort myself that at least these last three weeks I get to work from home save one day a week where I can pop into the office for 4 hours and take care of office type things.
PJs, slippers, cup of dacaf coffee...beep...laptop booting up. The baby is napping in the bassinet and I figure I have about 2 hours before she wakes and wants fed and play time. Thousands of emails...I went through most of these via blackberry so the number doesn't scare me as it should. I spend the next two hours deleting and filing and forwarding and send out question emails about if something had already been taken care of. Not too bad. I'm happy that my little angel is stirring so I get a break from the real world for a few minutes.
The first day was ok. No real phone calls or meetings or disasters to clean up. I can do this. HR made me promise that I would set aside specific time to work so that my FMLA can stay properly documented...so off with the blackberry and shut down the laptop. Sigh. Now snuggles and nap for mommy.
Day two made a few calls, spoke to my boss and tried to get my brain to think w o r k again: a harder task than I imagined. It seems that all my muti-tasking skills and elephant's memory have vanished. I catch myself making...gasp...mistakes. It's only day 2...I can't beat myself up, and I really don't have the strength even if I wanted to. I'm too tired. My precious angel still thinks 2 hour feedings are the bomb and the pain in my body is raging. I'm grateful that I have this slow return...I can't take a full day in the office even if I tried.
And then day 3 arrives. I need to trek to the office to handle supply orders and fedex and see what piles are cluttering my desk from the temp. Shower. O sweet shower. The water rushes over me and I feel able and strong. I don't want to ever leave this beautiful shower...ahhhh. Now the fun part...presentable office clothes...umm...not. I don't fit into any of my pants. I pull on a pair of post maternity jeans 4 sizes larger than before the mommy me and one of my maternity tops - good thing empire waist is still all the rage. It's only 4 hours and our office is more casual than anything.
Little beauty is awake and begging for food. I'm anxious to feed her because I'll be away for more hours than I have so far. I want to hold her and nuzzle so that sweet smell can get me through the coming hours apart. I can't put her down. Hubby is encouraging me to head out so that I can get home fast, but I can't. I just can't. Here comes the wave. As I start to cry so does the baby: now I really can't leave. Hubby takes the baby from my arms, gives me a kiss, and sends me out the door.
The car ride is awful. I didn't realize the pain would be worse driving. My trip was only 30 minutes since I waited until after rush hour, but the searing pain makes it impossible to get out of the car when I arrive. It takes me about 20 minutes to gather my laptop bag and pump and purse and make my way into the building and up the elevator, collapsing at my desk.
I forgot how quiet the office can be. It amazes me that with an office of 30 people there are never more than 10 on any given day. I can hear the air conditioner buzzing and realize that it is quieter here than at home. Almost a nice break. I sit at my desk and stare at the booting computer screen. I wonder if my sweet pea fell asleep when I left? How will she do feeding from the bottle while I'm gone? Will she miss me? Will she do anything new while I'm away? I feel the tears coming back, shake my head, and get some water from the kitchen.
Everyone says hello as they pass me and ask about the baby. I smile and show some pictures, and fight back my leaky eyes. The pain in my back, hips and legs is unbearable now. I didn't comprehend how much less movement I had at home nor did I expect that getting in and out of my desk chair would bring me to my knees each time. I hurredly managed to order paper, kitchen and general office supplies, say hello to everyone and left. I made it three hours and figured I can work the last hour from home.
I sobbed the entire way home and didn't put the baby down until dawn the next morning.
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