Re-engaging brain

Today was the last day of my Maternity Leave L

It’s been one of the best times of my life. I’ve loved spending time with C and trying my hand at housewifing for 9 months. And I reckon I’ve done alright.

I was a bit confused at the start. It took me a while to work out that Mat Leave was for giving C a secure, healthy start (my google history may just throw up the question ‘what is maternity leave for?). Anyway, apart from the (now) obvious, I had a few aims at the beginning of my leave. In rough order of importance, they were:

1.  find good baby groups
2. travel to see friends/family
3. go to exhibitions etc whilst Clara is tiny
4. take more holidays/trips
5. try the baby cinema (grown up films but babes in arms welcome)
6. make a monthly video diary
7. write a monthly blog
8. learn how to code
9.  do a car maintenance course 

Ignore 8 and 9, what was I thinking? For the first 3 months, it was achievement enough to make sure she and I were fed, clean and reasonably happy. 7, meh. I did do a bit of work which I’m very glad about now (I even got promoted). Keeping my toe in the water means going back is less of a big deal, and taking Clara to a conference while I could was excellent fun. But the most important things were the quality time with loved ones, i.e. 1-6, and I’ve done - and enjoyed – those in spades.

We’ve joined premmie groups, baby massage groups, singing groups, messy play groups, and had a blast. I’ve tucked C away in a sling and walked for miles, walked in the forest, whiled hours away in cafes.  We’ve hung out at home playing on the floor, eating together, swimming in the hot tub most days. We’ve explored new parts of the UK and found new ways of holidaying. We’ve seen more of my family than I’ve done in years. Not to mention some fantastic new friends I’ve made through NCT classes, those always surprising, hilarious, wise women have been a lifeline and sanity check.

Having C around makes everything more fun and exciting. At times it’s been hard, of course, when a grouchy refluxy baby could not be calmed and the hours dragged. Having Prev here working from home has been amazing, here to help with poosplosions and to share cute moments with. I’ve never missed adult conversation like people told me I would. I’ve enjoyed keeping C fed, medicated, clothed, and clean. I’ve developed an unlikely obsession with cloth nappies. I’ve spent way too many hours on Mumsnet forums.

And as for returning to work, I’m optimistic. Friends have found unexpected confidence and efficiency at work since becoming mothers, I hope something similar happens to me. I’m glad I’m starting out part-time, as leaving C is hard when she’s still so very titchy. And knowing that if the working mother thing doesn’t work out, we have options (though secretly I suspect that I’ll dig being back at work and my new life and old life will blend in all sorts of new and interesting ways).

Sending C to nursery is a headfuck. Well, more like a heartfuck actually, since my head knows it’s a good thing for everyone. I need to work, I want C to see me working and contributing to the world, the nursery we’ve found is amazing, and can offer her brilliant things to learn and have fun with. But then I want to hug her tight and inhale her smell and never let her go. She fits into my 1950s housewife fantasy just right. But maybe I don’t.