I never pictured myself as a stay-at-home-mom. While I had the utmost respect to those who had the patience and the benevolence to stay at home wrangling wee ones all day, it sounded like the absolute last thing I would ever do.
I would be an ambitious career-mom, a ruthless ladder-climber winning promotion after promotion in a spitup-stained blazer. I could, and would have it all. Gorgeous husband, perfectly-behaved children, dream job. I would come home from work refreshed after a day of meaningful adult interactions and would be a better parent for it.
And then I met her. I met my sweet little Moonbeam.
And holy shit, you guys. When people tell you that you’ll love your baby more than you could imagine they aren’t kidding around. Maybe not for the first hour or the first day or the first week. It might take a bit for the panic to subside. But as soon as you stop feeling like you’re doggy-paddling through a hurricane and you can finally breathe a bit you realize that there is nothing like this love.
So for twelve weeks we doggy-paddled together. We learned to swim. We learned to float on our backs with the sun on our skin. Moonbeam and I soaked up as much togetherness as we could and by week eleven I thought, “there is no way I can leave her” but when there are bills to pay what can you do? I had phone meetings with my bosses and emails with HR, made plans to decrease my hours, packed up my pretty pink breast pump and on a sunny Wednesday morning I kissed her goodbye and I left. All day I missed her. All week, all month. And after that first month my husband and I decided me being at work wasn’t working out so well. After some vigorous number-crunching we came to the conclusion that me being at work was actually costing money, and I wasn’t interested in paying to be away from my baby.
So I gave one month’s notice and the days got longer. Knowing there’s a light at the end of the tunnel just makes the darkness so much more unbearable, but we made it. This is my first official day as a stay-at-home-mom. Yesterday I clocked out and don’t plan on clocking back in. My new job is very demanding and it might not be for everyone. I’m on-call 24/7 and my boss doesn’t cut me any slack. She needs me to feed her and to clean up after her, and she screams if she doesn’t get her way. But I love her, I love her, I love her. Oh how I love her. And I’m so glad to be here today.