There are many parents out there—both first-time and the more seasoned variety—who choose to stay home to rear their babies. And that is awesome. But for many, that is simply not an option.
When our daughter was born six years ago, I felt like I was a little bit older than the average first-time parent at age thirty-one. Whether or not that’s true, I have no idea. I’d been working for several years at a university and felt like I was carving my career path, one position at a time. Each new position brought on increasing responsibility, a little more money, and the continued promise of something bigger and better. I was working on a master’s degree in my field and really liked my job, something I knew I was lucky to experience. You could say I was career focused. I had no interest in giving up my job.
In my unyielding quest to keep things well-planned and organized, here’s how I thought it would work:
- Deliver baby. Whew! That’d be easy.
- Bring baby home and commence maternity leave, lasting six weeks, during which time I would check into the office at regular intervals to prove my worth.
- Deposit baby at childcare center.
- Return to work forty-two days post-partum, promptly at 8 a.m., stay until 5 p.m.
- Shed baby weight.
To say I didn’t get it was the understatement of the century.
There was so much I was not prepared for, including:
- Falling madly, uncontrollably, sickeningly, and not least of all, overwhelmingly in love with my daughter. I knew I’d love her, but this was ridiculous. I had heard of parents who marveled at smiles and gas bubbles. Never did I think I’d be among them. Their queen, actually.
- How utterly heart-wrenching and difficult it would be to leave my precious and tiny infant in the care of a complete stranger.
- The fact that I would cry daily—as in every day—for the first twelve months of my child’s life. Out of guilt. Out of anger. Out of sheer sleep deprivation. (I was also unaware of babies’ ability and/or willingness to sleep.)
