I have two days left at work until my maternity leave starts. I’m not ready. I’m not ready for the baby, for moving house, for leaving work. I thought I would be but I’m not. I’m altogether freaked out. How will I manage with a baby and a toddler (bit late to worry about that now), how will I find the energy and inspiration to cook dinner each day, how will I ever rest, how will I find any time to be me.
When I returned to work after I’d had the pob, last May, I threw myself back in to the job, I had a new boss, I needed to make an impression. I’d lost myself a bit at home by the end of my year off, I’d loved it but it wasn’t who I was and to be honest I wasn’t sure who I actually was anymore. Having a child totally changes your identity. Well it did for me.
Coming back to work gave me a bit of my identity back that I was familiar with.
It hasn’t been easy. I had to fight to get three days a week, four is definitely too much for me. I would rather work two. But maybe that’s just not possible for me. I have missed the pob hugely. I really think if you could have 18 months off work that would be much better. He was so teeny when I left him at a year old, he still napped twice a day, needed help eating, needed cuddles all day long. I longed for him. He wasn’t sleeping through the night.
But now he is nearly two. He loves going to childcare. He learns so much and tells me each day what he has been up to. He will definitely miss his days in childcare. But I am looking forward to playing with my boy, going to toddlers, getting out over summer. Exploring with him and seeing him grow and change. I’m looking forward to watching him become a boy and seeing how he adapts to become a big brother.
It’s just I’ve only just got in to a solid routine, feeling comfortable leaving him, used to making lunches, lugging bags around, arranging childcare. I feel much more balanced than when I first came back to work. I can manage my work and my home life and the balance is good. The two days I have off work are spent doing pob things, I’m used to arranging the rest of our lives so that I can have two days with him and not drown under a pile of washing. My days are with him, not domestic days.
It will be good to be off completely but I will have less time just about us as I’ll need to do more at home, with the baby and house stuff. I suppose it’s the fear of the unknown again. I hate it.
I need to work but who knows where I will be in a year?