Happy Nurses Week!

Yes, I have returned to work just in time for National Nurses Week! I like to think of this week as a great time to celebrate our challenging and rewarding profession, and also a great time to receive a new tote bag or some sort of hospital-logo'd swag. Or even a pen. I'm not picky.

To be entirely honest, I've never considered being a stay-at-home mom. There are so many reasons - I love my job, I love contributing financially to our family, I have much better and cheaper health insurance, we live in an expensive city and have a mortgage and a houseful of animals and a coffee habit to maintain and I just found out how much preschool costs around here...maybe I'm getting off track here, but the bottom line is that we are a dual income family by choice. This is what works for our family, at this point in our lives. Of course there is also the small matter of me being contractually obligated by the federal government to stay at my job for another 1.5 years while they pay off my student loans. I'm pretty sure defaulting on that contract requires me to pick up trash along the highway or give my condo to a diplomat or something tragic, so! Off to work by choice and the fear of Uncle Sam I go.

But even though I knew I was going back to work 12 weeks after Matilda was born, it's not like I was thrilled about it. I work nights and (please don't hate me for what I'm about to say) my baby sleeps like a rock and I had a very restful three months off. I am actually cringing looking at that sentence; somewhere out there another mom is cursing me and God is checking off the "Colic" box on our future children. But I was nervous about all the sleep switching and Matilda's schedule and then about a week before my first day back I had this meltdown that basically went "No one can take care of my baby like I can! No one knows how to calm her down like I can! What if I can't pump enough at work and my boobs explode! What if what if SIDS SIDS SIDS I don't want to go sob sob SIDS what if exploding boobs sob sob WEEP!" Joshua would probably like to write his own version of this story, but the bottom line is I had been calm and realistic for my entire maternity leave and then I took this spectacular dive into crazytown. Even though the only people I ever have to leave Matilda with are Joshua, my mother-in-law, and my best friend. What a sketchy group of 'babysitters'.

Two weeks ago I went back to work, because that's our new (and old) routine, and because I don't want to be in the default chain gang, and it was shockingly not that bad.

I did cry when I walked out the door for the first time. And then I had a moment at Starbucks about 7 minutes later when the barista asked what she could get me and I fully intended to say an iced venti Americano but instead I choked up and just made this little squeak instead. But I pulled myself together and got to work and it was fine. I love being a nurse (Happy Nurses Week to us!), I love taking care of babies, and thankfully I am not at all a weepy mess around the sick kiddos even though I am a mom now. My boobs did not explode, Joshua did not sleep through Matilda crying, I did not forget how to do my job, and then I rushed home in the morning and have never been happier to see my little family.

I won't say that being a working mom - all two weeks of it - has been entirely smooth sailing. It's difficult to get myself ready and get enough sleep before and after work when I just want to spend time with Matilda. It's annoying to leave my patients to pump, and annoying to remember everything I need to make that happen. I end up messing up our schedules trying to breastfeed Matilda right up until the very second I have to run out the door so I don't have to pump so many times at work. We also had some trouble figuring out which bottles and nipples were best for her, even though she's taken bottles without any fuss before. It's exhausting to wake up so many times to breastfeed when I'm sleeping between shifts, since she goes for long stretches overnight but needs to eat every three hours during the day. And then this past week, Tilda was entirely obnoxious and cranky for Joshua and he was tired and frustrated himself. I called him to see how things were going and I heard the baby screeching in the background right before he yelled in a high pitched voice, "I am freeaaakkkiing out!" They certainly weren't having a good time, and I couldn't do anything about it, and that sucked.

But! I hung up that phone at work, said a little prayer for Joshua's sanity, and then realized I was actually glad I wasn't home. While I don't think I'll ever happily run out the door to work, I like being there and having a break from the day to day mommy routine. I love my coworkers, they make me laugh, and twelve hours can fly by if you are having a good time with the people around you. I also like knowing that all the time I spent busting my ass in college was worth it for this, a flexible career that allows me to have lots of time with my own baby and still take care of other babies who need help getting started in life. And Joshua is an awesome dad who pulled it together, calmed our daughter down, put her to bed and felt really proud of himself that he did it alone.

There is always the mama guilt, I think biology and The Internet will not allow you to live your life without it. I feel guilty for leaving Matilda to go to work, and guilty that I like going to work. They tell me it doesn't get any better. Which is why I am hoping for a tote bag. And why I'm so thankful that tomorrow is bringing me my first real paycheck since Tilda was born (Happy Nurses Week to ME!)



The other morning I took some pictures of the tulips that are randomly growing on the ledge of the fifth floor of the parking garage at work. I have all these sappy thoughts about beauty in the midst of concrete (there is a metaphor here, and I think it's fairly obvious) but I can't even take myself seriously enough to go down that road. I love tulips. Here they are at work. And here I am at work. They are gorgeous, and being a working mom is just fine. The End.