I go back to work three weeks from tomorrow. I am dreading it so much that I don't know if I'll even be able to enjoy my last three weeks on maternity leave.
All I think about is how much I do not want to go back. I don't think I can do it.
When I go back, my husband will watch Alex Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and a dear, trusted babysitter will watch him Tuesday and Thursday. And that's great, it's really an ideal situation, except for the fact that it would be more ideal for me to be with him every day. I want to be with him every day. I want his every minute.
I want to be in charge of his routine. I want to see all of his smiles. I want to change all of his diapers.
I want to keep breastfeeding all day long. I don't want to switch to primarily pumping.
I don't want to go sit in corporate America in a cubicle all day long while other people raise my baby. I worked too hard for his little life.
The thing is, I'm our primary breadwinner. And my baby needs me to work so that he can have cars to ride around in, and a nice house with his own little nursery. He needs me to work so he can go to the doctor and have good health insurance.
In the next three weeks, I have to find a way to think about going back to work as something good I'm doing for my baby. I need to stop thinking of it as a death sentence. Because it feels like a death sentence.