The first week back to work, that is. I promise not to be overly dramatic when I describe the process of taking my newborn to daycare. I won’t use any corny cliche’s or make a big deal of what was a tough situation. I’ll just simply and calmly say…”IT WAS LIKE DOING A HEART DONATION WHILE STILL ALIVE.” See? Not dramatic at all.
I had a very methodical approach which upheld nicely until I decided to broach the subject of what to do if she started crying and they couldn’t figure out why. It was halfway through that sentence when I completely fell apart. The poor girl who was working looked lost as this woman started sobbing in front of her.
The piece of advice I was trying to pass on got me boohoo-ing because of a simple fact that every mother knows. There’s probably a hundred different ways to hold a baby…maybe more. I’ve seen pages and pages in baby books describing them. Every single mother knows though, that there is only one single way that they, and only they, can hold their baby that soothes them. It’s innate. It’s beyond a simple definition because it really can’t be described. A mother and her baby find a position where they just kind of melt together…and suddenly the abrupt introduction to the outside world seems to disappear for the infant…she’s right back to that womb-like feeling. She hears your heart, feels your warmth and all is well.
So, to describe this to a stranger who has never held your child and expect to do it without emotion? Never. I might as well have been describing to her how to make my lungs breathe. It’s the most natural thing to me, but incomprehensible to another.
When I got to work, I sat down at my desk and opened an email titled “your baby this week.” It went on to describe that my baby had just reached an age where new situations might make her nervous and she might be a little more clingy to her mommy. Thank you babycenter…that nice little dollop of guilt on top of my bowl of self pity was delicious.
I'm a mom to three girls (ages 22,21,13) and an Optometrist who also happens to be married to an Optometrist. Despite this fact, my daughter’s school had to make three requests for my child to get an eye exam. My last pregnancy occurred as I was closing in on 40 years old and it inspired to me to launch this blog, chronicling life as a working mom who found herself buying diapers and bifocals simultaneously. When I'm not busy carpooling or doing eye exams I can usually be found on a dock soaking up the water and sun at my Show-Me-State home.
BABYFOCALS 