This is it, my friends. Back to work next week.
I’m looking forward to it like an appendectomy.
Family leave is a damn good gig. For 10 whole weeks I’ve been not going to work, and for 10 whole weeks they’ve continued sending me paychecks. Good stuff, I tell you. But it’s finite.
Here’s the thing: not working, for the moment, doesn’t seem to be an option. Financially, it doesn’t make sense, we have a new mortgage, etc. etc. Of course it’s only money, and of course we could figure out a way to live on less, but we’re not there at the moment. I like my job – a lot. I get good wages and good benefits to do something I like, something that does just a little towards making the world the way I think it should be. And I do it with really good people beside me. This is incredibly, incredibly lucky. And I wouldn’t want to give it up.
The other part of this is that Roo isn’t going into day care – it’s NSG’s turn. She had to go back to work almost immediately after we came home with him, but now that I’m going back she’ll be taking him most days. I’m going back part-time for 2 weeks, and then I’ll unofficially work 4 days a week, and Roo will be with his auntie when he’s not with either of his moms. As stressed as I am about leaving him, it’s really all about me. He’s going to continue to spend his days with people who adore him.
But still. I’m not ready to be away from him for more than 2 hours, and that’s no lie. Last night around 4 am I decided I couldn’t go back to work because we don’t have an insulated bag big enough to carry around a day’s worth of bottles.
And the breastfeeding… this is stressing me out. I still can’t pump more than 1 1/2 ounces at a time (at best), and I can rarely feed him without using the SNS at all. I’m worried that this tenuous hold I have on producing this little bit of breastmilk is going to break when I don’t get to breastfeed him between 7 am and 6 pm 4 or 5 days a week.
I know, I know. There’s bonding and so much more to it than breastmilk. And I’m not unhappy about the goat’s milk formula we’ve been giving him. But I get so much satisfaction out of knowing that at least he’s getting an ounce or 2 of breastmilk at every single feeding, and I would hate for him to lose that.
Ugh. I miss him already, and he’s sitting in my lap as I type this.