Being a Lawyer and a Mommy

I am a working mother now. Or I should really say I'm a mom who is working outside of the house. I now know that every mother is a "working" mother...it's just that some don't get paid for their work in money. (But kisses and cuddles are pretty good pay themselves.  At least they are more rewarding in many ways.) What I'm trying to say is that my maternity leave is over and I'm back to being a lawyer during the day.

The days leading up to my return were horrible. I cried all the time just thinking about being apart from Lukas. I'd spent every day, all day, with him for 12 weeks. How was I suddenly going to be apart from him for 8-9 hours a day, 5 days a week? The thought alone was enough to turn me into a puddle of tears. The one thing that got me through was knowing that this did not have to be a permanent change if I just couldn't handle it. I could always quit my job and be a stay at home mom. Buy I at least had to go back for now (from a financial standpoint and from an "I have an education and kind of like being a lawyer and want a career and at least need to try to be both a mom and lawyer before choosing the mom-only route" standpoint).

So Monday morning rolled around. My mom was watching Lukas for my first week back, so she arrived bright and early. I woke up and pumped as I irrationally was fearful that somehow Lukas would eat the 14 ounces in the fridge and 30 ounces in the freezer (note that the average baby eats only 25 ounces in a DAY...and probably only like 12 ounces in an 8 hour period.  I was nervous, what can I say?). I then fed him, got dressed for the day and held him just staring at his sweet face while he slept. I went over all the details with my mom - how to use the bottle warmer (which she's already used multiple times), where his clothes are (which she helped me put away before he was born), where the bottles were, etc. etc. I was stalling.  Big time. She knew where everything was in my house and how to take care of a baby. (She'd raised two kiddos who turned out just fine.) She was not the problem. I was. I couldn't convince myself to leave the house. Eventually she somehow shoved me out the door and told me that they would be fine. I'm still not sure how I hadn't started crying yet, but I held my composure. I went and sat in my car in the driveway but couldn't put it in reverse to pull out. I just sat there confused and sad.  Could I really leave him?  But after five minutes I gave myself a pep talk and was able to leave. Somehow, there were still no tears.

And so I set out on my 6 mile drive to work. About a minute in to the drive tears just started flowing down my face. I was uncontrollably crying and couldn't stop. I cried the entire drive to my office. I was a mess. Luckily the partners were away at the annual partners meeting, so I wouldn't have to try to compose myself too much. Two of my female coworkers have had babies in the past two years and they knew what I was going through. I knew I had someone to empathize with me. I was prepared for the worst, given the tear-filled car ride. What was going to happen when I sat down in my office? Shockingly, nothing. No more tears. I was sad and missed Lukas like crazy, but I didn't fall apart. In fact, I was really taken aback by my composure and togetherness. In all honestly, I even began to feel guilty that I didn't feel worse and that I wasn't this mess of emotions and constantly bawling. What did that say about me? Luckily, after talking to some very wise women, I realized that this was a normal reaction. I missed being with my son, but I also enjoyed being out of the house and getting back to work. And that does not make me a bad mother.

The rest of the week went smoothly. I somehow didn't cry once the entire week at the office. Wednesday afternoon on my car ride home I did become very sad and started to cry. I'm still not sure where that came from given that I was on my way home to see Lukas, yet I was very very sad about having to be apart from him. I'm going to blame it on the hormones. (Nope, the hormones aren't gone just because the pregnancy is over...especially since I'm nursing...its just a continuation of the crazy hormones.)  Or maybe I'm just prone to crying in the car.

I do question if the reason I was OK was because I knew Lukas was in good hands with my mother. I knew he was with someone who loved him and would do anything for him. And this week Mr. Cob's parents are watching him, so I have the same reassurance that he's getting lots of love. Next Monday could be different when he starts going to daycare. I think I might cry then. But maybe not. Hopefully not.

The one big change I've noticed since being back at work is that I'm more present in whatever it is I'm doing. If I'm at work, I'm trying to be efficient and get work done and not dilly dally around. When I'm at the office, I might as well get as much work done as possible. And then when I'm home with Lukas, I'm really there with him. I'm not half playing with him, half checking my phone, half watching TV. I'm 100% focused on Lukas. I'm not able to spend as much time quantity-wise with him as I'd like, so I will try to make up for that with making sure we are spending quality time together when I am home. I'm also trying to remind myself that I am working in part to give him a better life. I know many people would argue that my being home would be the best thing for him, but for our family its just not in the cards. At least not right now. I'm sure I will continue feeling guilty for not being at home with him every day. But for now I'm juggling my two roles as best I can and as best I know how.

Just because I'm working, it doesn't mean I love my son any less. I hope he knows that and will always know that. I'm now starting to cry as I write that. Because I do feel guilty and constantly change how I feel about being apart from him. And I miss him. I miss being with him and seeing his sweet face all day. And now I'm sad. I'd normally try to put a happy twist on this to end on a positive note. But the fact of the matter is, I wish I was home with my boy.