From Here to Maternity
I had about 18 different anxiety attacks this past weekend.
Monday was my first day back at work. I felt disoriented and a little depressed, but, at the same time, it felt oddly normal to be back in the office amongst my coworkers. The pumping ordeal was certainly new, but if I didn't think about it, I felt like the same person I was before I had the baby.
Only, the moment someone asked me how I was holding up, I would break into uncontrollable tears.
The aspect of returning to work that felt the most different was not at work at all. It was my commute. No one offered me a seat. I had been so pregnant for so long, and then after that, I was always lugging around my giant baby. But now I was just an ordinary lumpy thirty-something taking the subway to and from work.
Brian's sister had agreed to watch Max for my first few weeks back. When I got home, the two of them were sitting on the couch playing. I had been gone for ten hours. I imagined that when I walked through the door, he might reach for me. Or smile at me. Or acknowledge my existence in some way. But Max barely seemed to notice I was there. When Jessie left, Max started to get grouchy, so I fed him, and he fell asleep. Then he woke up and cried, I fed him, and he fell asleep again. Some hello!
I felt like saying, "Hey, Kid! You're looking at Ol' Milk Bags over here. Show some respect."
By the time Brian got home, I was beside myself. For all the nursing and cooing and sleepless nights and zombie days, for all my bouncing and lugging and shushing and getting pooped on and peed on and spit-up on and drooled on, to my 12 week old, I was nothing more than the family cow.
Last night I held Max for as long as I could. Long after he fell asleep. I didn't want to put him down. His warmth and his smell made me feel good. But maybe we are missing a vital connection. I absolutely adore him and feel linked to him in some deep, hormonal way I can't understand. But mentally, I still can't get over the fact that I have a kid now, and that I am this little human's mother. Maybe Max can't understand how he could be the son of the family cow.
Here is a picture I took on my last Thursday of maternity leave: Max and fellow baby Milo in Prospect Park:
I also took another picture of Max mocking that iconic Cosmo centerfold of David Hasselhoff:
Maybe my two worlds — my world before Max and my world now since — will finally be reconciled on Take Your Child to Work Day.