Finding my Mojo

I went out on maternity leave in August 2014, and returned back to work in December of the same year, 14 weeks later. My son was 14 weeks old, and I got shoved back into the grind of a commute, work, rinse, repeat. This isn't a new story, this is the story of every working mother in the US. If you're not in the US, I likely hate you for your more parent-friendly leave policies, since almost every country is ahead of us.

I will say this--I am lucky enough to live in a state with paid maternity leave. Since short-term disability is through the state of NJ, it also includes maternity leave. It's nowhere near 100% pay, but it certainly makes life a little easier.

Anyway, my point here wasn't to get into a discussion about how shitty the US is towards new mothers, my point is that without much ceremony or mental preparedness, I returned to my old job a little over 3 months after my son was born. This first part was...not so bad. Riley wasn't in daycare yet, thanks to the generosity of my mom and mother-in-law. December is a notoriously slow time of year in my field. I only had to get through 3ish weeks and then it was holiday time and I was off again.

4 months later, we unexpectedly had to put Riley in daycare. This went more smoothly than I expected, and he's taken to being around other caregivers and other kids without any trouble. I, on the other hand, didn't fare as well.

Sure, I put on a brave face, but every day that I only got a few hours in the morning and a few at night with my son ate at me. I wanted to quit, but I knew my income was vital to our comfortable life. I wanted to spend my time after work nuzzled against my son, but he was growing and wanted to explore. I wanted to kick things and be angry that life wasn't different, but I had a happy, healthy baby and a great job and why did I have a right to be sad?

(Wow...I didn't expect this post to be such a downer...I promise more swearing and humor next time)

These feelings have faded a bit, but I still have moments where I just want to get up and walk out of work and never look back. This is not a reflection on my job specifically, but the simple fact that I really don't get to choose to work, I have to work. I'm working really hard at getting my mojo back, my passion for my career, and it's getting there, slowly but surely.

Until it's back at full capacity, I'll keep plugging along, counting down the hours until I can see my baby's smiling face.