Tuesday, December 22, 2009

On leave

First of all, here are the results to the "3 Reasons" post:

1. To hear how Maya vocalizes her love for left thumb.
2. As Highnumber correctly guessed, to hear Chris get very impressed with a midget's weight.
3. To hear the thumb-sucking stop long enough to let out a nice fart.

You missed that last one, didn't you? I think you should go back and watch it again.

Second, I've returned to the working world, and honestly? I couldn't be happier. I struggled with, and am continuing to struggle with, the fact that I did not enjoy maternity leave. It was hard. Really hard. Harder than my job by a long shot.

In the first few weeks, I was physically limited. I couldn't sit for very long, or stand for very long, or walk for very long. I wasn't sleeping and barely had time to eat or go to the bathroom.

As my strength returned, Maya also starting sleeping at night (or perhaps my strength returned because she started sleeping at night), which made things a bit easier. But sleeping at night meant she was awake most of the day. And most days, she spent a good deal of her awake hours crying. If she'd been changed, fed and burped and still cried, pretty much the only thing that made her stop was being carried around while I paced the halls for hours. We'd walk from the living room to the kitchen and back. Over and over again. Then up and down the stairs. Again and again.

Sometimes we'd go for a walk outside, but this was more difficult than it sounds. Going outside meant I'd have to change out of my pajamas and into real clothes and shoes. And that process was not fun because it was usually accompanied by a screaming baby. Once I'd put her in her crib to go change, she'd start screaming. The kind of screams where her whole head turns red and no sound comes out and tears roll down her cheeks, and I'd feel so terrible that most days, I'd choose to pace the house for hours rather than put her through 5 minutes of this type of screaming.

There were a lot of days that I wanted nothing more than an hour to do the dishes and tidy up. The house got so unorganized. We had tons of gift boxes and bags from friends and family on the coffee table, in her room and on the floor. Newspapers piled up on the front porch. Dishes overflowed the sink. Dog hair covered everything. We went weeks without changing the sheets. In my old age, I've become more and more obsessive about a clean house. When the house is full of clutter, I get stressed out. And many days during leave, I'd sit in the rocking chair nursing Maya, staring at all that clutter, about to have a nervous breakdown.

And some days, I did break down. She'd cry all day, and so would I. It wasn't until she was about 8 weeks old that her crying slowed down. She's take regular naps and I've have a chance to eat, clean and relax. And when she was awake, she was in a good mood and we'd play. That's when maternity leave started to get fun. But it's also when I went back to work.

Currently, I'm working from home a few days a week and going into the office on the other days. Chris is doing the same, and my parents babysit once a week. Next month, Maya starts daycare. And although I'm a little sad about her spending the majority of her waking hours with non-family members, I know that it has to be this way. I like going to work everyday. I enjoy eating lunch at a leisurely pace without the fear that the baby will begin crying any minute. I like have the option of going to the bathroom when nature calls rather than getting trapped on the rocking chair holding a nursing or sleeping baby. I enjoy working with people, helping clients, solving problems, and most of all, not watching TV all day.

And I like missing Maya. It sounds terrible, but it's true. I'm so happy to see her when I get home from work everyday. But when I was on leave, I can't say I was always happy to see her. When Maya was about 5 or 6 weeks old, I went to the grocery store by myself, and Chris stayed home with her. It was the first time in her life that we were apart for more than a few minutes. I was only gone for about an hour, but honestly, I wanted to stay at the grocery store all day.

Part of me feels terrible for feeling this way. As a mom, I'm supposed to cherish every moment I spend with my daughter. I'm supposed to wish I could stay home with her. I'm supposed be the only person who knows how to make her happy or stop her crying. But I'm not that mom. I'm the mom who loves her daughter, but also loves her job. And I'm the mom who sometimes — a lot of times — has no clue how to make her daughter happy.

I'd like to conclude right now with something like "but I'm OK with that." But I'm not yet. On one hand, I'm glad that I value both my career and my family, and that I can admit that I don't have all the answers when it comes to being a successful mom. But on the other hand, I can't help but beat myself up over the fact that perhaps I wasn't born with that mom instinct.

So instead, I'll conclude this way. I still don't know how to feel about any of this, but I think it's important to be honest about it in a public way. There were many days that I'd think about and reread this post from my bloggy-friend Melinda, and this post from my co-worker Michelle to remind myself that yes, I'm miserable, and yes, that's OK.

4 comments:

emily. said...

Sarah,
This might sound weird, but your post made me feel a lot less scared to be a mom one day. I think it's my fear of all those emotions you so honestly expressed that has kept me from thinking I could ever be a good mom. It's good to read (from someone I know and respect) that those feelings are actually pretty normal. It still sounds scary as hell, but I'm sure you're doing an awesome job and I applaud your candidness. All my best :)
-emily
p.s. I also totally enjoyed the blog posts at Anything Said and Big Shoulders...these are all bookmarked for when I'm gonna really need 'em

The Slacker Mom said...

I knew from day one of maternity leave that I would be counting down the days until I went back to work. One night after a leisurely trip to Target I found myself sitting in the parking lot of a Chinese restaurant calling my boss to talk shop and get the scoop on what to expect when I came back in a week. After 12 weeks I needed to feel connected to something other than two babies and a breast pump.

In the end it was hard to go back, but the best part of my day by far is seeing those boys when I get home.

*I totally caught the fart- it's amazing the sounds that come out of those little bodies!

Anonymous said...

Ditto what Emily said. I just can't imagine a world in which I am constantly fascinated by a baby, even one of my own making. It's good to hear that that's not a prerequisite for motherhood, as I was beginning to think it was.

MommyMarji said...

motherhood is just one part of your life. Yes, it is important, but don't let biology define you. Remember Valium was introduced in the fifties to calm those stay at home moms who had spent part of the previous decade performing vital work to save the nation in
WWII