Going Back to the Office
Desiree Lenard
Wenatchee WA USA
From: NEW BEGINNINGS, Vol. 20 No. 2, March-April 2003, p. 53
My husband and I were overwhelmed
with joy when we welcomed our baby daughter, Karin Elizabeth, in May
of 2002. My husband and I were thrilled with the timing of her birth
because both of us are teachers and we looked forward to spending the
entire summer with our precious newborn.
After returning from a trip
to Spain in July, my task was to find a day care provider for Karin.
After learning that several people we had considered did not have room
for a newborn, I called a referral service and found a wonderful woman,
Lucy, who only cares for one other child.
In August, our school district
hosts workshops for professional development and I teach one on computers
each year. My husband went out of town for two days to help his parents
prepare for an interstate move and it was a great opportunity for Karin
to go to her day care for half of the day until my husband returned
home.
Karin and I had a typical
(sleepless) night and woke up for the final time at around 5:30 am.
We played, I fed her, and she fell asleep. I took a shower and began
to get ready. As I reached for my makeup, I could hear Karin stirring
in the next room. Tears flowed as it began to sink in that I would be
returning to work and the days of me attending to her every need would
soon be over. I applied my makeup and when I was almost finished, Karin
really began to cry. Little did she know that her mother was crying,
too. I thought to myself, "I'm almost done. I just need another
30 seconds." I went to her and held her tight and we cried together
for several moments. I nursed her and all was right, mother and baby
as close as can be, the way it should be.
Soon we were on our way to
Lucy's house. I could hardly gain my composure to talk with Karin on
the way and by the time we arrived, I was a mess. I explained how to
heat my frozen milk, but I was such a wreck that I could barely communicate.
I quickly kissed Karin and hurried back to my car. I cried most of the
way to the workshop and finally pulled myself together a couple of blocks
before I arrived. I saw many colleagues in the halls and everyone was
quick to ask about Karin. Each time I was a mess all over again.
At about 9:30, I thought
Karin might be getting hungry so I took a break and went to pump my
milk. This, too, was hard because I wanted her to be with me. I looked
at a few of my favorite pictures of her and my attitude began to change.
I thought of how grateful I am that I am able to give Karin all of the
benefits of her mother's milk even though, for financial reasons, I
must return to work. I thought of some songs I usually sing to her and
imagined myself holding her in my arms and nursing her.
I cleaned up and stored my
pumping paraphernalia and prepared to go back to work. As I walked out
of the room carrying my pump and my milk, I felt like a person who drives
an armored car and transports money to banks. I thought to myself, "This
bag contains liquid gold."
In the weeks since then, even though I have seen this emotional response
repeat itself several times, I can reassure myself that I am doing something
very important for my daughter, even when I can't be with her.
Last updated Tuesday, September 12, 2006 by njb.
Page last edited Sun Oct 14 09:29:32 UTC 2007.
