Last Day of Work

This past Friday was my last day at work, a company I've been with for six years. It was strange to leave on second shift around 1 AM, only one person to say goodbye to before walking out the door.  This time was less painful than leaving my Kansas City lab family in September, not being able to see anyone on a regular basis due to the distance. The people here are only a phone call away, and staying in touch is going to be much easier since we're in the same state.

For those that are interested in the banal details of my work: between January and the start of March, I was working roughly 5 PM to 11 PM on weekdays, and another five to six hours at varying times on Sunday. Saturday was my one day off, and it regularly involved going to one our parents' house and sleeping all day while they watched D. I would nap twice a day during the week (when D went down for naps), and H and I would trade off taking care of the baby during the night.  H didn't have the luxury of sleeping during the day, so I would try to cover nighttime bottles as much as possible.

But then at the start of March circumstances changed at work, and I was suddenly pulling 7 PM to 2 AM shifts. This was inevitably what caused me to quit. I could not take care of a baby full time as well as working half a night shift. I relied on family to watch D during the mornings so I could sleep in, but they have lives as well and couldn't do it every day. I don't blame them for it either - their help was a blessing, that extra sleep is what kept me going for so long.

So I've been 'recovering' this week from work.

Monday was the worst (isn't Monday always the worst?). I had terrible, interrupted sleep the night before - apparently I tend to dream about D falling off the bed and I have to sit up and slam my arms down on the comforter in order to save him. Getting back to sleep afterwards was awful. So on Monday I decided to only nap once in the morning to try and force myself to have better sleep at night. It worked, although I was exhausted. I've been only doing one nap for the rest of the days this week.

I can hear it now:  "You get TWO naps during the day, and you're complaining about only getting ONE?"  Yeah, I am. My sleep schedule is all messed up (see above), and while I'm working on getting it back on track you betcha I'm going to soak up all that good naptime sleep. Maybe one day I won't need to sleep during the day to make sure I can adequately take care of my offspring, but today is not that day.

When I told people I was quitting my job in order to be a stay-at-home-mom, I got two responses. Either "Wow, I'd love to stay at home and do nothing all day,"  or  "Wow, that's going to be a big responsibility."  Obviously I prefer the latter, but I understand the former response coming from someone who doesn't have children, or who did but had to work in order to support their family. I didn't understand until it happened to me, to be honest.

There's definitely something that happens mentally (and hey, maybe it's all the hormones during pregnancy), that rewires your immediate or subconscious or passive thoughts from I'm looking out for myself  to  If I don't take care of this child first, before anyone else, the world will end. Fiercely protective, I'd say.  Since I'm only nine and a half months into this beautiful thing called Motherhood, perhaps that feeling will subside a bit down the road. Perhaps it happens when the kiddo can start taking care of itself, that it no longer depends on you for everything. 

Until then, I'm pouring everything I have into this handsome, bright, smiling work of art that tests my every limit. Uncle Dave had it right: "It's going to be the most challenging, most difficult thing you've ever done. But it's also going to be the most rewarding."