It's been four months since I gave birth to my son, Matthew. Thinking back over the the time since he was born, I feel incredibly fortunate to be reflecting on a long list of moments that made me smile, and only a few where I felt frustrated or unhappy.
That said, there is one morning that stands out in my mind as the most difficult: the first time I dropped Matty off at daycare. I don't think I realized just how attached I had become to him over the twelve weeks of my maternity leave. Since the moment I brought him home, Matty and I spent close to every minute of every day together. I had left him with his dad or grandma for an hour or so when I needed to run an errand or take a nap, but for the most part, we had been together since the second he entered the world. I knew he needed me for all of his basic needs, but it didn't occur to me that I needed him, too. Being with Matty provided me with a sense of comfort. Any worry or anxiety I had as a new parent was put at ease when I was holding him. I knew he was okay, and I didn't have to worry.
Dropping Matty off at daycare was the first time I was going to be away from him for an extended period of time. I was a ball of different emotions - sadness, fear, loneliness, not to mention all the feelings I had about going back to work. I walked in and handed my baby to the staff and he immediately started hysterically crying. He was not quite 3 months old, and I am positive that he was crying because he was tired and not because I had handed him off, but it was still excruciating to hear. I started crying as well. I decided I needed to get out of there and let them do what they are trained to do. I knew Matty would be fine once he slept, and at his age he didn't really know if I was there or not.
I went to work and tried to stay busy, keeping my mind focused and not thinking about Matty and how much I missed him. The end of the day could not come fast enough. As soon as I was finished seeing my last client, I ran to pick him up as quickly as I could. The feeling of elation I had when I walked in and saw him is impossible to describe. The unparalleled joy of seeing him after our time apart actually made me feel like the separation was worth it.
It has been six weeks since that first day. While it is still slightly sad for me to drop him off in the mornings, I have also come to enjoy our time apart. For one thing, it really does make me appreciate our time together in a way I never could when I was always with him. Additionally, as he gets bigger and more active, I can do less and less of my own to-do list while he's awake. I try to drop him off a little before I need to leave for work or to get home a little before I need to pick him up. Knowing that he is in good hands means I can take care of a few things - errands, housework, etc - that I can't do when I am entertaining him.
At first I felt terrible about not rushing to get him the second I could. But as time has passed I realize how valuable this time apart is to our relationship. Becoming a parent does not mean I've completely become a different person. What it means is that the old me - the one who likes to jog along the Schuylkill or write a blog post - has to fight a little bit to survive. By taking some time for me when I am able to, I am actually enhancing the quality of my relationship with my son, because I am ensuring that I don't feel even the slightest bit resentful when I am with him.
Of course, most of the time Matthew and I spend apart is when I am at work, so I am still trying to find ways to do the things I enjoy. But putting Matty in daycare has helped me realize that it is okay to want some time apart, and that I shouldn't feel guilty for enjoying my time away from him.
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