Working mama

I've been back to work, very lightly, for the last week. My partner had his last day of work two days ago. Thank you to my sisterhood who have cuddled my baby senseless as I navigated having no childcare recently. My baby is coping so well with the bottle. I'm so proud. I'm working to increase my milk supply so I can build a stash. I overestimated my pumping ability, I think. After our breastfeeding struggles I'm desperate to avoid formula until he's at least 6 months old. I'm taking herbs to help. He will be 5 months at the end of this week.

Leaving him is strange. Good, to be independent, making money, knowing he's with his dad who loves him so much. I feel blessed to be the one providing for our whānau yet resentful that maternity leave isn't longer. Grateful to be out of the house, confused with empty arms. Grateful the job I do means so much, it's so worthwhile, resentful it's so emotionally draining and relentless.

I try to tell myself I'm looking forward to buying clothes and getting my hair done again as if that's preferable to being with my baby. But honestly, on the hard stay at home mum days, yeah, getting my hair done is preferable. I think?

I hummed at a mama who's blood I was taking this evening, I think I was trying to calm her, humming is so second nature, I hope she enjoyed it.

We curl up in bed every night and co-sleep and breastfeed constantly in staunch defiance of everyone who has tried to tell me that I shouldn't do exactly that. I repeat the phrase "worry doesn't take away tomorrow's problems, it takes away today's joy" to myself about 20 times a day. 

I used to believe in the journey from maiden to mother but I am learning that I'm actually a maiden who is mothering. Still me, there's just more of me, needed more.

Here is the good in the bad. And here is the bad in the good.

Photo: Oleg Sergeichik www.unsplash.com