Back to Work

Charlotte's first full day of school.

I’ve written several versions of this post, but I’m unhappy with all of them. I either sound super defensive (“Me going back to work is the best thing for our family because . . .”), naïvely optimistic (“Oh, I can’t wait to spend my days with grown-ups and use my brain again”), or downright depressing (“I’m going to miss my baby girl during the day so, so much”). A thread connecting all these thoughts is what are people going to think about me going back to work and putting a 12-week-old in day care? And when I realized that charming undercurrent was what was making me so uneasy about writing this post, I decided to be super frickin’ duper honest with you. So honest, in fact, that I’m using bullet points to keep myself from over-editorializing and tweaking my thoughts. • I don’t want to be a stay-at-home mom. I just don’t. But if you dare, dare suggest that I don’t love my kid as much as I “should” or as much you love yours, you’re just plain wrong. • Even though I don’t want to stay home, I don’t want to part with my Charlotte. I miss her when I’m apart from her. I constantly worry about her when she’s not with me, even when she’s with Chris! • I always, always have that obnoxious nagging feeling that I’m not doing enough for my girl. Going back to work has sent this simmering, nagging feeling into overdrive. In other words, yes, I feel guilty. • I do not wish to model for my daughter that a girl must choose between children and career. Now, I don’t want to tick anybody off—for some women, a job is just a job or the salary doesn’t cover day care costs or whatever. I get that. I’m just saying that in my case, in our situation, giving up my job would be giving up a career I enjoy. I don’t want Charlotte to think choosing between babies and work is a mandatory part of being a girl. • I like earning a paycheck. There, I said it. • Chris and I have a mortgage. We intend to pay it. • I like the increased financial security that two incomes provide. So there you go. As for day care, we have found a lovely place in Potomac. Lucky for us, a spot unexpectedly opened up and we pounced on it. I have spent a great deal of time at the day care center, arriving at different times of the day and observing everyone—the babies, caregivers, administrators, and even other parents. During this process, I’ve also been slowly easing Charlotte into their care. First, I went to the center and stayed with her there for a couple hours. The next day I dropped her off for a couple hours solo. I was damn near hyperventilating as I parted with her, but we (I) made it and she did fine. On Friday, I dropped her off for an entire half day. As I opened the door to the infant room to drop her off, the caregiver’s face lit up as soon as she saw Charlotte. This, I realized, was exactly how I wanted someone to react when seeing my little girl. The caregivers have also reiterated how this is the best time for Charlotte to start day care because she has not yet developed separation anxiety. She happily goes from one set of arms to another and doesn’t notice a bit that I’m not there. “No offense to you,” the one caregiver said, “but with infants this young, it’s out of sight, out of mind. The separation is much harder on the parents than the child, I promise you.” Yesterday and today Charlotte is doing a whole day by herself while I tie up a billion loose ends at home and get us ready for the real thing tomorrow. We’re referring to day care as “school” because Charlotte now has a daily routine and her job is to learn, learn, learn. Her main caregiver has lesson plans and developmental goals individualized for her, and in between sleeping, eating, and pooping, Charlotte will play and play. I worry about fitting everything into a day, though—working full-time, the morning routine, breastfeeding, taking care of Charlotte in the evenings, housework, the commute. I guess we’ll see how it goes. One day at a time, eh? So, just because Chris and I think that going back to work tomorrow is the best thing for our family, that doesn’t mean it’s easy. No, these past couple days have been very, very difficult for me. I feel conflicted and sad and very apprehensive about how this will all work out.