I am participating in another workshop of Writing Motherhood. I am a day late (and probably more than a dollar short), but I just didn't feel like writing yesterday. So I didn't. Not much of an excuse, I know.
The most significant first in my life has to be the day we came home from the hospital with Darius. Just 30 hours before my baby was still in my belly. And now he was a real live baby. My real live baby. I still remember laying him down in his bassinet to take my first shower as a mother. He looked so teeny and so helpless. I knew that the day in which I would return to work was just around the corner. But work seemed like an impossibility when leaving my baby for a 15 minute shower was guilt-inducing.
I did return to work when Darius was twelve weeks old. Staying home was simply not an option. I was still a newbie Project Manager and didn't earn what my new Professional Certifications were worth. I had just bought a townhouse the year prior and didn't have much of a savings to cover the mortgage for more than a couple of months. Being a working mother would be my reality.
Armed with my super fancy $300 Pump In Style and my laptop bag, I walked back into the office for the first time in nearly four months. It was surreal to be back in the office. The feeling reminded me of the first day of elementary school; excitement mixed with trepidation. I was nervous. I was ready to get back to work. I was scared to see how many emails were in my work inbox.
I remember sitting back in my desk with papers strewn about. My boss had already warned me that an intern was using my space while I was away. I guess she forgot to clean-up before my first day. I picked up the papers into a nice stack and placed it in the back corner of my desk; out of sight and out of mind. I fired up my laptop and had to think for a moment about my password.
I got lost in email for a couple of hours. I trashed every email that was more than a two weeks old. I figured that the person covering for me had handled it all. And if he hadn't, well now that people knew I was back I would just get another email from them about the still open issue. I scheduled a meeting with the person to have a proper handoff. I needed to know what was still open, how things went, was I returning to total chaos?
I remember the frantic call from my finance manager about my replacement being in rehab for a coke addiction and only have three days to close the books for month end. I remember the endless interruptions from co-workers checking in and asking about my darling baby. I remember the first lunch back to work with one of my dearest friends. I remember forgetting to pump in the afternoon and feeling like I was going to gush breastmilk like a fire hose during a management meeting at 4:00pm. I remember getting a blister from wearing heels for the first time in seven months.
But most of all, I remember picking up my sweet little baby at 5:30. I remember the look on his face when he noticed that I had arrived. I'll always remember the way he smiled at me and coo'ed. I'll always remember his sweet smell and kissing him and squeezing him. I remember putting him to my breast for the first time in nine hours and feeling sweet relief and true bonding.
I remember feeling grateful that we had both survived the first day back to work. I was officially a working mother.
