When you first have your child, you don’t really think about when you have to return to work. Your entire world has changed, and you have this new tiny human that has completely stolen your heart. I didn’t think about having to return to work until about a month before I was scheduled to go back. At first, I didn’t dread it as much since I still had time to get in all my snuggles. It didn’t hit me until about a week and a half before. The days seemed to be going by quicker and it seemed like my daughter was starting to learn new things. Since my time at home was coming to an end, I would not put her down as much. I let her sleep on my chest and held her as much as possible. I wanted to get in as many cuddles and kisses as I could. Of course, my arms were a little sore from holding her, but that didn’t matter.

The Tuesday before I returned to work, it really hit me that my leave was coming to an end. I was not ready to hand my daughter over to someone while I was at work. The thought of not being able to spend the whole day with her and talking to her was upsetting. When I would think about going back to work, I would start crying. For the first time in my adult life, I have found the thing that sets my soul on fire, being a mom.

The morning of Valentine’s Day, I woke up very upset. Today was the day, I had to return to work. With my husband being away at training, I was not able to talk to him. He usually knows exactly what to say to make me feel a little better. I woke up early but stayed in the bed. My daughter was sleeping so peacefully on my chest. Every time I would move, her little hands would grip my sides a little tighter. I got up at the last possible minute and took my time to get ready. I double checked our bags before going to pull the car around. When I came back inside, she was fussing in her rocker. I picked her up and held her close against my chest. The pouring down rain perfectly matched my emotion. I immediately started sobbing. How could I muster up the strength to leave my little girl at daycare? I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to walk right back in the bedroom, throw on my PJs and cuddle with her in bed. After about ten minutes of holding her and sobbing, I strapped her in the car seat and walked out the door. When I got to our friend’s house (the person who was watching her), I went into autopilot. I took her inside and let her know when she last ate and was changed. My daughter was asleep in her car seat, so I didn’t want to linger and risk waking her up.

As I pulled out of their driveway, the tears started flowing. I’ve thought about this moment for weeks, and now it was here.

I am not sure when the tears stopped, but they eventually did. As I pulled into the parking garage of my job, I was ready to leave. I knew that it would be an extremely hard day and I had to try to stay strong. My first day back was alright. It was nice and felt good that so many people were excited to see me. It was a pretty easy day, just catching up on emails. Although it was an easy day, I felt like I was in the wrong place. It was nice to be making money, but I felt like I didn’t belong. All I could think about was being back with my daughter. I constantly was wondering what she was doing. If she was babbling, crying, sleeping or excited to play with her toy. For the first time, I knew what I was passionate about and I wasn’t doing that. Was it a mistake to return to work? Should I seriously consider being a stay-at-home mom? Could it just be first day nerves?

Luckily my job allows me to work from home one day a week. On those mornings, I wake up feeling excited. I get to spend the entire day with my daughter and cuddle her when I can. I thought that maybe as time went on, I would feel a little better about going back to work. So far that has not been the case. I am hoping that it’ll get a little easier as we get into more of a routine. It has been a little over a month that I have been back at work. Although, I haven’t cried since the morning of my first day, I still hate dropping my daughter off and changing out of my PJs.