During my pregnancy and maternity leave, I was often asked if I plan to return to work or what we planned to do. I always said that I am going back and part of me was looking forward to it. I enjoyed my leave. I had my parents here, we did a lot things, I had a lot of help and it was like an eight-week vacation, in some ways.
I went back to work on December 10, when little peanut was just about eight weeks. During my last week of leave, I put her in her daycare for two days to get us both adjusted. I got to get a massage and do some clothes shopping and she got her little feet wet in her new schedule.
The first day we dropped her off, I did cry a little bit. But mostly because of what her teacher said. She talked about what miracles and blessing babies are and I thought about how much I loved my little one. And I teared up. Then we got outside and the hubs and I high-fived each other.
Upon my return, I was often asked if it was hard. I am still asked this. All day, I missed her but felt no guilt for being away from her. I knew that she was in good hands and that she would have a better life if I was at work. Whenever she needs anything, she will have it. Because I recognized that I am not cut out to stay home, she will also have a mom who is sane and relaxed. I don't have a super stressful job, I work for a great company and with great people. Coming back wasn't hard. And I felt guilty about that. I felt guilty that I didn't feel guilty. Does that make sense?
Sure, I may miss milestones. It may not have been her first smile ever, but I will get to see her smile for the first time. It may not be her first step ever or hearing her very first word, but I will get to experience all of those milestones for a first time.