A reflection on maternity leave/parenthood

Well, here we are- on the precipice of returning to work and the culmination of my two and a half months of maternity leave. I have very mixed feelings about the return to work- I am so excited to see my colleagues again (Hilary, I missed you!), to be intellectually stimulated and to help contribute to our family once again. But I am also very sad to be handing Henry off to a stranger (and fortunately, also his Noni) where he will be fed from bottles and not see my face for 8 hour stretches. The longest we've ever been apart was for 3 hours when I had to submit my fall grades at the beginning of December. I can't help but wonder- will he recognize my face when I pick him up? Will he miss me? I hope so.

It's amazing how becoming a parent has helped Andrew and me assess our own strengths and weaknesses- and how it has challenged us in many ways.

For instance, Andrew has always told me that he wishes he had more patience and that he thinks that it is one of my strengths; I never really thought much of it until I saw it put into practice with Henry. There have been many mornings about 5am when I was bouncing Henry back and forth in what felt like a state of 70% sleep/30% awake for as long as it took for Henry to pass through his digestive troubles.

On the other hand, Drew is completely at ease with a restaurant full of people staring at us when Henry is screaming bloody murder and I completely tense up and want to go bounce him or nurse him somewhere far, far away from judging eyes. Andrew is right, of course- who cares what others think- but for me, as a mother, I'm still trying to build up my confidence in my parenting capabilities and I like doing so without an audience. I still giggle at Andrew's story of trying to go to the restroom with Henry in his arms... there was recollection of Drew scooting through the men's room with his jeans around his knees- trying to get Henry to the changing table so he could have both hands to buckle his belt again (something he didn't really think all the way through when he unbuckled it!) But he came out of that men's room beaming at his first silly fathering mishap, and that's the best way to get through these new, unfamiliar challenges. I must admit, I'm much harder on myself when I do something clunky, and I should work on reacting more like Drew does.

As I might've mentioned, Henry and I moved into the nursery after a few failed attempts to get through the night (and subsequent day) as a family sleeping in the same room. Andrew's days during the football season were sometimes 15+ hours and getting woken up every hour and a half was just not helpful to making it through such long days. But those weeks in the nursery ended up being a very special time for Henry and me. I would put on the same playlist of piano music (and some instrumentals from Little Women) that I used during Henry's labor and birth, and in the dim light of the lamp we would pray and thank God for our safe and beautiful delivery and then sleep-nurse-sleep-nurse, sometimes repeated 7 or 8 times throughout the night until Henry would give me the long, arched stretches that would signal our night was over and our day had begun. I think back to his disheveled hair and his cheeks all pink from the pressure of sleep and I wonder how time can move so slowly yet so quickly all at once. As my friend Alisha told me, with a newborn, the days are long but the time is short- isn't that the truth.

Henry one morning in the nursery

I can't say that I would like to go back and relive the difficulty that accompanies sleep deprivation (and I'm really only getting about 3 hour stretches at most, still), but the memories of the nights in the nursery will forever be a little treasure for me to carry forward into the story of me and my son.

And, those of you who know me well know how much I cherish a good night's sleep and a long, uniterrupted nap- both of which have eluded me since Henry's birth- but I'm learning that being a parent means learning self-sacrifice of which many of us (me especially) have not experienced much at all. I think it is especially difficult for women like me, who have our first child in our late 20s or 30s and have had 3 decades worth of practice of living with our own wills dictating our every move- to have to set aside much of the freedom (at least for awhile) that we are so used to. I never thought I was taking the following things for granted: hopping in the car to run a quick errand, making a sandwich and eating it without interruption, sometimes even having enough time to shampoo my hair!

Life was much easier without Henry, but it was also significantly less rich. I can't wait to see how else having Henry in our lives will deepen our characters and will provide us with more unbuckled pants stories. And I keep trying to remind myself, going back to work doesn't mean my time with my baby is over, just that it will change and, like everything else, we will adjust.