With a face like that, can you blame me for not wanting to leave her tomorrow? Ah, the dreaded end to maternity leave. If you had asked me pre-pregnancy what I thought about being a stay at home mom, I would’ve quickly told you that it was not for me. “I’d be bored”, I would’ve said flippantly. Even throughout my entire pregnancy, going back to work was just a given. “By the time month three hits, I’ll be glad to get back to work!”, I’d joke, “Conversation with some real adults.”
How incredibly hilarious and naive. Was I frustrated at times? Yes. Tired a lot? Sure. Days spent rocking and cooing and dealing with shitty diapers? Absolutely. But bored? Nothing to do? Yeah, right.
What I didn’t realize, and what I think every new mother soon realizes, is that being home with your kids isn’t as black and white as I liked to make it. It isn’t just perfect coos and smiles and uninterrupted naps. There was also lots of coffee needed, plenty of puke, shitty clothes and screaming to fill the spaces. And then woven in to those crazy, happy, and overwhelming days is this little girl who is doing new things, getting bigger and getting more and more perfect. I couldn’t have predicted just how hard it would be to leave her. Or how terrible I would feel about spending most of my time away from her, rather than most of my time with her.
Then, of course, there’s the irrational fears – that she won’t love me as much, or that she’ll love her caretaker more than me. And then the very real fears that I’ll miss her first word, the first time she crawls or takes her first step. Time that she’ll be growing while we’re apart. But, are any of these things really real until we experience them ourselves? Is it the fact that they do these things for the first time or the act of witnessing them for ourselves that fills parents with love and excitement and awe?
And what about balancing it all – working, being a mother, a wife, this photography life that is (thankfully) taking more and more of my time – how will I balance it all? Can I? Or will I just suck at every role of mine a lot, rather than suck at them all just a little bit?
What I hope – the only thing that I can hope – is that tomorrow guides me through to the next day with a minimum number of bruises. That every day gets easier and more manageable. That the weekend comes soon. And of course, that I have a smile like this waiting for me when I get home.