Well, it’s over. My twelve weeks of blissful baby snuggles ended with my return to work today. I have dreaded this day, not because I don’t want to go back to work, but because the thought of leaving the tiny human that has not been out of my sight for more than an hour since her invention with essentially a stranger is enough to break my soul. I spent so much time preparing my daughter for her first day at “school”, that I completely forgot one BIG thing I should have done to prepare for my return to work.
I spent nearly an entire tearful hour trying to choose an outfit for my daughter to wear to school today. Something that was cute (so the teachers would love her), something that was pink (so they’d know she is a girl), something that wouldn’t be too hot, too cold, to tight, too loose…
By the time I’d found something that I thought would be acceptable, I was exhausted. And we still had to bathe our two year old and fight our way through her bedtime routine.
I loaded all of the kid’s bags into my car, but I still had a feeling that I was missing something.
Once our two year old was asleep, I bathed little Lennox (the two month old), put on her pjs, and cried hysterically into the top of her head while clutching her – probably a little too tightly – to my chest.
I stared at her in wonderment while I fed her. When she was finished with her bottle I reluctantly swaddled her and put her in the bassinet. So peaceful. So beautiful. I was exhausted both emotionally and physically. And then it hit me.
I had to get dressed to be amongst other adult humans in a work environment in less than nine hours… and I had nothing to wear.
Correction. I had nothing to wear that would FIT. I started to panic. People. Let me tell you that the LAST thing you want to be doing when you’re already on the verge of an emotional breakdown is trying to wedge your postpartum body into your PRE-partum clothes.
The phrases “lipstick on a pig”, “sausage casing”, and ….. came to mind whilst squiggiling and squirming into garment after unforgiving garment.
I am too small for my maternity clothes, and about ten (okay 12. OKAY 15, jeez ?) pounds too big for most of my “work” clothes.
I bought a few “in between” pieces to wear when I was still on maternity leave, and while they’re pretty cute and I feel good in them, they’re a bit too casual for office attire.
SO. If I had it to do over again (and my advice to all you expectant mommas and mommas on leave now), I would have taken a few hours to shop for some “fits me right now” clothes that are appropriate for a working woman and not a milk-covered Mommy.
I’m not saying that having a cute outfit would have stopped the ugly cry tears when I drove out of the preschool parking lot this morning, BUT I sure would have felt much better about myself walking into my office for the first time in three months if the pair of pants I eventually stretched onto my body hadn’t been about to saw me in half as I did it.