Delayed Reaction

The Sunday evening anticipation of leaving Cayden for work actually turned out worse than the Monday morning departure. Lots of tears Sunday evening, but only a few sniffles Monday when I left Cayden and Dad in the driveway, on their way to Grandmas. And a few more tears when I opened the card and "Spit Happens" book my boss and coworker left on my desk for me to find as a welcome back gift.

Kept busy during the day, and really only thought of Chicken Wing when I pumped, three times. Which was unsettling -- to expose myself in my office, even though the door was closed. And I just know people on the other side of the door could hear the whirr-whirrrrr of the pump. And then there was the challenge of carrying the milk to the fridge and the parts to the bathroom for cleaning, without raising any sideways glances or attracting attention. I never thought I'd be so self-conscious about it, but I was. I think I'm going to try to find a cute little bag to disguise my milk parts for transport around the office.

But I never even needed the make-up touch up kit I packed, just in case tears mussed my mascara.

Monday afternoon wasn't as good as the morning and day, though. As soon as I got to the parking garage I felt this mild panic, like I just couldn't get home soon enough. I started wondering if Cayden had enough milk to get through the day, if he had enough diapers, did he nap well, etc., etc., etc. By the time I got to the garage I was in an all-out sprint up the steps to see my baby.

Of course he was fine all day at Grandma Barb's, but he was kind enough to greet me with a heart-melting smile when he saw me. And then I just bawled holding him, never wanting to let him go again. Monday night was about as sad as Sunday night for me.

But here we are at the start of another day, and I'm doing OK. Taking each day, one at a time, until the routine gets easier for all of us.

Oh, but Chicken Wing failed to get the memo that this is back-to-work week. Because last night he was up four times instead of his usual three, and his sleep stretches were in the one- to three-hour range, rather than the two- to four-hour range. (Yeah, we've given up on the six and eight hour sleeps for now. Better not to have high expectations so that our hopes are crushed each night) Uggh.

But both Mama and Dad have started hitting the sheets as soon after Cayden goes to bed as possible. It's been a long time since I was in bed at 8:30 or 9 p.m., but it seems to be the only way to get enough windows of sleep to not go crazy in the early morning hours or fall asleep during the day.