On the Other Hand

We took Evelyn to my office yesterday afternoon. She mostly slept through being passed around, loved, kissed, and admired. On the other hand, I wanted to know about workload, RFPs that we've received, proposals we've won or lost. It was reminiscent of how I'd had Matt bring me the laptop to the hospital, so I could check my email and send instructions to my coworkers. And I was more or less "recovered" from labor and birth by the time I'd left the hospital, so by day three I was ready to go back to work. I don't like hanging around the house, can't stand having the TV on all day, and hate feeling like I'm not accomplishing anything.

At the office, my direct boss asked when I was planning to return. With a long sigh, I told her our daycare coverage didn't start until November 1st. "Well, you can take up to twelve weeks with FMLA," she said. "And remember, you don't get this time back."

Back home, her words really hit me. On one hand, I want to get out of the house every day, be productive, accomplish things. But on the other hand, Evelyn will grow so fast during her first year. She'll soon be sitting up, pointing to things she wants, crawling...and walking away from me. So last night, Matt and I watched a movie and I soaked in the joy of having my baby daughter sleeping on my chest. I admired her little eyelashes, rosy lips, smooth round cheeks, tiny little fingernails. I stroked her wispy dark hair, rubbed her small back, and kissed her forehead over and over again.

What I realized is: the part of me I wanted to hold on to will always be there, but what I have in the other hand--the part of me experiencing brand-new motherhood--is fleeting. And I need to hold on to it while I can.