So I'm almost 5 months into this gig (working mom)...
For the record: I stayed home with Hope for 12 weeks, and then went back to work 4 days a week. At that point we hired a nanny through the agency Your Other Hands to be at the house with her. When she reached 6 months, we enrolled her at the Salvation Army Kroc Center daycare, where she is currently attending.
Although many mothers report having a very difficult time returning to work, by 12 weeks I was ready to get out of the house. I was tired of talking about myself in the third person all day ("Mommy's going to make lunch. Mommy's putting away the laundry. Mommy's going to go crazy if she doesn't talk to another adult sometime soon."), and I had accomplished all of the things on my "to do" list that accumulated while I was too big/pregnant/unmotivated to do anything. I was itching to feel competent again after caring for a newborn. Although I've had a lot of baby experience in my life, there's something about those early days that makes you doubt yourself and every instinct you've ever had. I was literally looking something up on Google at least 3x per day.
I got a trial run at returning to work when I went in for 2.5 days of training over the summer. My mom came to stay with Hope, and it was a really easy transition. Unlike my normal working day, we had a clear cut schedule, and I was able to plan pumping times in advance. Those were actually the highlights of my day, as I got to pump with two second-time moms who had tons of advice and sympathy to share. When I left home those days, Hope was so young that she didn't even seem to notice, and when I rushed home to greet her, she gave me a look that said, "Oh yeah, you. Hey, did you know this nice lady has the same milk you give me? And she's better at changing my diaper too."
Despite my eagerness to return, I did have conflicting feelings. That new friend Mommy-Guilt laid it on thick: "She should be with her mother, not some stranger." "You'll never get this time back." "You'll miss all her important milestones." "You think your job is more important than your baby?" And the crusher (because it contains so much truth): "That nanny's so expensive, you might as well just stay home." The trepidation was not eased when, the day before I returned to work, Hope bawled her eyes out when I left the house to go for a run. She wasn't just crying, she was screaming, red-faced, with big tears running down her face. Apparently she cried the whole time I was gone, and didn't stop until I came back and swept her into my arms. I took her to our room to nurse, and as she calmed down, I picked up where she left off. Lying there sweaty and crying, I watched my tears dissolve in the fabric of her swaddle and wondered if I was really going to be ok after all.
Our first nanny was wonderful, and I felt totally comfortable leaving Hope with her. The first morning went off without a hitch, and I immersed myself in work during the day, only thinking about Hope a handful of times. Coming home at the end of the day, however, I found a sobbing nanny rocking our little monster on the couch. Turns out she was offered a full-time, permanent position, and I was going to have to interview nannies all over again. All of those doubts immediately surfaced, and I started wondering if working was really such a good idea after all. Thankfully, I found someone fairly quickly, and within a few days, Tommy began to worry that Hope preferred the new nanny to us.
I can't begin to explain how wonderful Mercy was with our daughter. One of the best things about her, however, was that she saw a different side of Hope. Whereas we were still treating her like a newborn, Mercy pushed her to play with toys, gave her tummy time, read books to her, tried to teach her to clap. How stagnant we had become! Within one week, Hope could fall asleep without the swaddle, arms and legs askance. She started rolling herself from her back to her front and picking her head up off the ground a few centimeters during tummy time.
Mercy's last day was hard for all of us, although Hope still sees her from time to time when Tommy and I have date night. The transition to day care was definitely the most difficult for me. Now I wasn't just leaving my baby with a stranger, but taking her to a completely new place and leaving her with 3 adult strangers and 3 little ones! We went to visit the week before, and spending time in the room with her teachers and the other kids really helped to calm my nerves. I was still a bit of an emotional wreck the next week, however, when the time came to leave her there. I took a photo with my phone, and found myself looking at it throughout the day to convince myself that she was doing fine. For the record, I did shed some tears in the car that morning.
That first morning was over a month ago now, and it's gotten easier and easier every day to leave Hope at daycare. In fact, I often look forward to seeing her teachers and the other kids. Just like with Mercy, I find that the caregivers there see a different side of Hope. They push her to do new things (art at 6 months?) and help her to interact with other kids her age. In the past few weeks, she's grown at such a rapid pace. She's sitting up independently, eating so many different foods, crawling, babbling, signing, and now even starting to pull herself up on the bars of her crib. She used to jump at every little noise, and now she seems more able to hold her own in a variety of situations.
It's so exciting watching her develop into her own person. And it's ok with me that she does a lot of that developing with a new group of friends. I know that she's in good hands, and I really appreciate that I still get to be my own person too. Going to a job four days a week that I find challenging and fulfilling makes me a better, happier, more well-adjusted person, and I believe that ultimately, that makes me a better mother for Hope.
For the record: I stayed home with Hope for 12 weeks, and then went back to work 4 days a week. At that point we hired a nanny through the agency Your Other Hands to be at the house with her. When she reached 6 months, we enrolled her at the Salvation Army Kroc Center daycare, where she is currently attending.
Although many mothers report having a very difficult time returning to work, by 12 weeks I was ready to get out of the house. I was tired of talking about myself in the third person all day ("Mommy's going to make lunch. Mommy's putting away the laundry. Mommy's going to go crazy if she doesn't talk to another adult sometime soon."), and I had accomplished all of the things on my "to do" list that accumulated while I was too big/pregnant/unmotivated to do anything. I was itching to feel competent again after caring for a newborn. Although I've had a lot of baby experience in my life, there's something about those early days that makes you doubt yourself and every instinct you've ever had. I was literally looking something up on Google at least 3x per day.
I got a trial run at returning to work when I went in for 2.5 days of training over the summer. My mom came to stay with Hope, and it was a really easy transition. Unlike my normal working day, we had a clear cut schedule, and I was able to plan pumping times in advance. Those were actually the highlights of my day, as I got to pump with two second-time moms who had tons of advice and sympathy to share. When I left home those days, Hope was so young that she didn't even seem to notice, and when I rushed home to greet her, she gave me a look that said, "Oh yeah, you. Hey, did you know this nice lady has the same milk you give me? And she's better at changing my diaper too."
Despite my eagerness to return, I did have conflicting feelings. That new friend Mommy-Guilt laid it on thick: "She should be with her mother, not some stranger." "You'll never get this time back." "You'll miss all her important milestones." "You think your job is more important than your baby?" And the crusher (because it contains so much truth): "That nanny's so expensive, you might as well just stay home." The trepidation was not eased when, the day before I returned to work, Hope bawled her eyes out when I left the house to go for a run. She wasn't just crying, she was screaming, red-faced, with big tears running down her face. Apparently she cried the whole time I was gone, and didn't stop until I came back and swept her into my arms. I took her to our room to nurse, and as she calmed down, I picked up where she left off. Lying there sweaty and crying, I watched my tears dissolve in the fabric of her swaddle and wondered if I was really going to be ok after all.
Our first nanny was wonderful, and I felt totally comfortable leaving Hope with her. The first morning went off without a hitch, and I immersed myself in work during the day, only thinking about Hope a handful of times. Coming home at the end of the day, however, I found a sobbing nanny rocking our little monster on the couch. Turns out she was offered a full-time, permanent position, and I was going to have to interview nannies all over again. All of those doubts immediately surfaced, and I started wondering if working was really such a good idea after all. Thankfully, I found someone fairly quickly, and within a few days, Tommy began to worry that Hope preferred the new nanny to us.
I can't begin to explain how wonderful Mercy was with our daughter. One of the best things about her, however, was that she saw a different side of Hope. Whereas we were still treating her like a newborn, Mercy pushed her to play with toys, gave her tummy time, read books to her, tried to teach her to clap. How stagnant we had become! Within one week, Hope could fall asleep without the swaddle, arms and legs askance. She started rolling herself from her back to her front and picking her head up off the ground a few centimeters during tummy time.
Mercy's last day was hard for all of us, although Hope still sees her from time to time when Tommy and I have date night. The transition to day care was definitely the most difficult for me. Now I wasn't just leaving my baby with a stranger, but taking her to a completely new place and leaving her with 3 adult strangers and 3 little ones! We went to visit the week before, and spending time in the room with her teachers and the other kids really helped to calm my nerves. I was still a bit of an emotional wreck the next week, however, when the time came to leave her there. I took a photo with my phone, and found myself looking at it throughout the day to convince myself that she was doing fine. For the record, I did shed some tears in the car that morning.
That first morning was over a month ago now, and it's gotten easier and easier every day to leave Hope at daycare. In fact, I often look forward to seeing her teachers and the other kids. Just like with Mercy, I find that the caregivers there see a different side of Hope. They push her to do new things (art at 6 months?) and help her to interact with other kids her age. In the past few weeks, she's grown at such a rapid pace. She's sitting up independently, eating so many different foods, crawling, babbling, signing, and now even starting to pull herself up on the bars of her crib. She used to jump at every little noise, and now she seems more able to hold her own in a variety of situations.
It's so exciting watching her develop into her own person. And it's ok with me that she does a lot of that developing with a new group of friends. I know that she's in good hands, and I really appreciate that I still get to be my own person too. Going to a job four days a week that I find challenging and fulfilling makes me a better, happier, more well-adjusted person, and I believe that ultimately, that makes me a better mother for Hope.
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