Back to Work: Thoughts On The Last Moments of Maternity Leave and the Return to Reality

And just like that, I was less than 24 hours from being back at my desk at work. I could already hear the ding of my email alerts. My tiny, wrinkly newborn was now three months old and it was finally time to return to work after 13 weeks off.

Notice I said “off” and not vacation. Maternity leave is not a vacation. There are no fruity daquiris at the swim up bar and private beaches; only warm spit up and the pungent odor of a full diaper pail lingering in the air. Wake-up call is anywhere from 4 am to 6 am and you’re in charge of breakfast. Netflix binges are actually boring after a while, believe it or not. While taking care of a newborn is definitely not relaxing, it is extremely rewarding and mostly joyful. I realized through this whole “fourth trimester” that there is a lot of luck involved in how easy or hard it all is.

I freely admit, I got lucky because Will is a lot like me and we seem to just understand each other without words. He can fall asleep anywhere at anytime and he sleeps in long stretches like I do. I have often had to wake him up just to feed him. He’s also not a fussy eater. We selected the Costco formula and randomly selected a popular brand of bottles and hoped for the best. Turns out, he’s already like a ravenous growing teenage boy. He needs to eat all the time and isn’t finicky at all. I have heard stories about babies who prefer certain types of nipples and have allergies related to formula and wipes. There are other babies who refuse bottles all together. God, help me because I would pull my hair out.

Will is what many people describe as a chill baby. Low-maintenance is his way of life. Three crazy barking dogs jumping all over him do not even phase him. We were having work done on our house and he snored right on through the sound of drill into the ceiling. He can sit in his boppy on the couch and entertain himself for hours. I am sure at some point he is going to give me a run for my money, but that time is not now thankfully. He is just happy and mellow. Someone joked he was like an elite model baby and I love that analogy. My tiny Tesla baby. But while he was adjusting to life smoothly, I was having a little bumpier of a journey…

For anyone that has had a baby or multiple babies for that matter, you know how true what I am about to say is. For the rest of you, just close your eyes and imagine.

YOUR BODY WILL NEVER BE THE SAME.

I don’t care if you have the genetics of Heidi Klum, SHIT. IS. NOT. THE. SAME.

I will never forget the first time I went for a jog after he was born. I felt fine physically, but the second I picked up my pace, I felt like my uterus wasn’t buckled in and was bouncing around inside me. My pelvis felt like a car had backed into it and made a dent. It definitely shifted. Sort of like how they tell you on airplanes that items may have shifted around in flight. And just like I was warned, I still looked pregnant for a good while after he was born. The body stuff was harder to deal with than I imagined. People always use the phrase “bounce back” to describe women getting back into shape after giving birth. I assure you that there was and is no bouncing here. It’s more like wobbling. Very, very slowly. I’m definitely realizing why the doctor’s offices refer to women like me as having a “geriatric pregnancy.” I’ve made exercise a priority for many reasons, but even that, which is something I’ve done all my life, just feels different. I work my core and do my planks and it is just plain HARD and I am always exhausted before, during and after. Turns out, after a hiatus from all things fitness, I did not miss burpees. I really struggle(d) with seeing my new self in the mirror, especially as my return to work date neared. I had not entirely bounced back and my skirt suits were still too tight. Where is that shapewear in my drawer because I actually do need it. Not immediately looking like the old Tasha was a harsh reality to accept. In my mind, I told myself that the end of my 13 weeks was a deadline. I was supposed to be back to my old self, right? Not quite. And so I’m working on accepting that things don’t always move as fast as I want, especially the last few pounds. I can let my thoughts keep me awake at night or I can learn to live my life and let those thoughts exist, but not control me.

Ironically, other things move far too fast, like time with my little guy. I feel like before I know it he will be walking out the door yelling “Bye, Mom.”

And so there I was, savoring my last night of maternity leave and it felt like the night before the first day of school. I had real anxiety despite the fact that I have worked here for years! What will I wear? Will my suit pants even button? What if all my login passwords have expired? Do I even remember how to be a lawyer? I wish I could just stay in leggings. I hope no one wants to touch my belly anymore.

I decided to channel all that anxious energy into a photo shoot for my son’s first day of school. I laid out all my props; books, an apple (for his teacher, duh!), and a cute little sign. I settled on a crisp pair of jeans and a cute button down for him. Not exactly the most comfortable outfit to lay around in, but it sure does make for a cute photo. I also decided to refer to his day care as school. I think it makes the whole transition easier to process. All kids go off to school! No need to cry.

I dropped him off at day...I mean school bright and early on a Wednesday. I strategically chose to return to work on a Wednesday. Mostly so I can say to myself on Friday what a long week it was and how I made it through like a champ. I carried him in and met his teachers and everything just felt right. He was all smiles and giggles and I knew immediately he was in good hands. It is kind of crazy to think that as working parents we often leave our children with total strangers. But seeing him go right into her arms was all I needed to know that this was the right decision for us. The room was filled with all kinds of fun stuff and I was excited for him to make friends, even if they can’t talk to each other or hold their heads up straight. 5:00 PM didn’t feel that far off…

I made it to my desk earlier than I’ve probably ever arrived to work. Things were actually just as I left them, which is both good and bad. The work was still waiting for me! I even went to court the first week and didn’t forget my name, so that’s a win. I thought the first week would be a lot rougher than it was emotionally. I admit that I did not cry when I left him at school. I wondered if this made me some kind of sociopath. Isn’t he supposed to cry and then I cry? I’ve learned there are no set rules for this kind of stuff. Certain aspects of being a new mom are easier for some than others. Crying or not crying, I am a good mom. We’re all good moms just doing our best.

I picked him up 8 hours later and his first day was a total success.

There were no diaper blow outs either. It’s funny how day cares operate now. They use apps to communicate with parents and a daily report gets sent to me letting me know critical details such as exactly how many ounces he ate, when he ate them, and when he peed and pooped. I call it his report card.

It’s pretty hilarious, but my favorite part is the pictures they send. The best one was him riding on this giant stroller with seats for several babies and he was just sitting there with his new buddies smiling and as happy as can be. Those photos made the first week back so much better because I knew he was doing just fine. Better than fine actually! And so we made it through and we’re slowly establishing a routine.

For 37 years I haven’t been a morning person and I am becoming one now. If you told me 5 years ago I would one day be sitting at my desk and working by 8:00 am I would have laughed and told you the only way that was possible is if I slept in my office. But babies change you (and not just your body). A crying and hungry baby at 5:45 am has a way of getting you up and moving, even if it’s slowly and with one eye open. Also, a lot of coffee helps. Like, a lot.

So we survived The Great Return to Reality without any major hiccups or crying spells. Someone told me this week that I make it look easy. I don’t know about that. That’s for those moms on Instagram wearing size 2 jeans as they meal prep during the baby’s nap. That’s making it look easy. Remember, it was only three months ago that I peed my pants when I came home from the hospital. Who does that? And I currently drive around with Post-It note in my car that says “don’t forget the bottles” as my daily reminder (I still forget bottles). I also worry I will drive right past his school and just go home and forget him there one day. But these fears are normal and I accept that and don’t let them cripple me. I know there is something so beautiful about maternity leave and having that special one on one time with my baby. That time will never come again and that feels bittersweet. But this next chapter feels like I can enjoy it, too, most of the time.

Every new phase of being mom is going to bring something different and unexpected. I am ready for it! As I glanced at him in my rearview mirror this morning in his car seat, I caught him smiling at me and as his batted around his little toy. Maybe he knows this is our new routine and he likes it.

He babbled happily to himself when I pulled up to school and while I don’t speak baby, I am pretty sure he was trying to say, “you got this, Mom. You’re doing just fine.”