Working mama

I worked until 7pm tonight, which means Ava was already asleep by the time I got home. This was the first time I missed out on seeing her before bedtime.

So, when she inevitably cried shortly before 8pm, it took all my self-control not to be like, "I will go! I will hold her! We will cuddle!"

No.

Be strong.

...I was. I let her cry it out for about 20 min until I went up there, pat her back 5 times and she passed out. It took all of two minutes. (Mostly because I lingered.)

And that's when I realized how I am simply meant to be a working mom. It's a strange realization because I never thought that would be me. I was raised by a stay-at-home mom and always thought I would be one myself. But being away from Ava makes me appreciate even those shitty little nighttime moments, which would otherwise make me fall apart. In fact, I feel wildly insecure whenever I have to care for her for more than one full day by myself. I know I can -- and I have before -- but it's not my natural state.

I guess being a decent parent means recognizing your own limitations -- and what makes you the best version of yourself, for your child. For me, it's my job. Even on these rare 7pm nights. I just need to keep reminding myself that that's okay.

Self reminder

Dave's been working in his new (reduced-travel) role for exactly one day now and the boy has already booked a business trip to Zurich for all of next week.

THE HELL, DAVE?

I think we have different ideas of what "reduced travel" means.

Seriously, though, I can't complain. Dave used to be gone Monday at 4am through Thursday at 8pm every single week. Five days/nights overseas once a month isn't anywhere near as bad. I guess it's all about perspective.

I think of my brother-in-law, who's in the military -- he was gone for months at a time. Granted, his (ex) wife had approx. a million family members to help with their kids, but still. Months. I can't imagine.

I used to be supremely jealous of women whose husbands came home every night to help them with the kid(s). "Who are these unrealistically lucky women with husbands who work 9-5 jobs??" I would wonder. "I totally hate them all."

Oh, that's right, I'm one of them now.

Sort of, at least. He may take an international trip once a month, but he comes home by 6pm most days. He may work additional hours at night, but it's after the baby is in bed. His career trajectory may not be in the seven-figure range, but on what planet is that a necessary income?

So this is a reminder to myself to count my blessings. If I get annoyed that he has to work late, pissy that he has to go in early and leave me to care for the brood, or disappointed that he's out of town no more than one week a month, I need to remember: He's still home more. And that's all that matters.

Work and worries

I've officially worked out my maternity leave schedule. And it feels good/terrifying all at once.

My last day of work will be August 16, six days before I'm due. I'll return just after Thanksgiving, on December 2. That sounds like a long, long time -- though I've been told I can always call them to come back earlier if I want to.

This may sound ridiculous, but I'm nervous about being away from work for any amount of time. I really enjoy my job (not to mention the amazing and talented women I get to work with). What if I don't enjoy my baby as much? Is that totally taboo to say?

It is, I know it. But it is something I wonder, seconds before I feel like a terrible person for even having that thought pop into my mind.

I just don't want to lose my editorial edge. (Despite the stream-of-consciousness you read here, I am actually a professional writer and I know how to "turn off" my own nonsense.) I also don't want to forget how to speak to another adult. And I don't want to miss out on any big professional changes if/when they happen. In general, I don't like feeling out of the loop and being gone for three months is a surefire way to make that happen.

On the flip side, I also want to enjoy being a mom while I'm home. I'm not sure how that works with the lack of sleep, sore boobs and never-ending stream of literal shit, but people say something changes when you have the baby. You have this unexplainable bottomless pit of unconditional love for that little being and your heart just overflows with it. Perhaps less so at 3 in the morning, but it's always there nonetheless.

I hope that happens for me. And I hope that I can really appreciate my time at home. I do know how lucky I am to be in the situation I'm in, about to welcome a child while having an incredible job waiting for me to return. I just can't help but wonder and worry about how the reality will actually play out. I guess time will tell.