#matleave

So I had a KIT day today. That’s a Keeping In Touch day for those unfamiliar with the term, or for those who thought it was maybe something to do with Kit Harington. Or KitKats. Sadly it’s neither.

I’m lucky enough to work for a company who are extremely supportive of those on parental leave, and KIT days (whilst not mandatory) are wholly encouraged. They are a good opportunity to do the odd few days here and there, and to get a feel for what’s going on so that when you do eventually return to work, you don’t feel like an H&M-clad rabbit caught in the headlights.

For me, it was mainly an opportunity to indulge in some minor smugness at how the place has (surely) crumbled to dust without me in the office every day. I expected to walk into something that resembled a scene from Mad Max, with burnt out vehicles, explosions going off, and everyone running around screaming.  Disappointingly (but also, secretly  – thank CHRIST!) the place is still standing. Rather boringly, all the stuff that I waddled away from in May is completely under control. And whilst my entire world has altered beyond all recognition since I last logged onto my laptop, everything back at the office is pretty much business as usual. Except they’ve changed the supplier of coffee in the canteen. Meh….

“Going back into work for the whole day? Oooh you must be dreading that” said someone to me recently, as though I’d just told them I’d elected to undergo root canal surgery with just a shot of rum as an anaesthetic.

Dreading it? Are you effin’ kidding me?! I was bouncing around last night like Buddy the Elf on Christmas Eve. Despite the fact that yes, it’s “just” going back to work, here’s why today was so bloody brilliant:

 1.       Someone asked my opinion today. Yes, I know! Asked ME my opinion! About an actual THING! A WORK THING!!  Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t anything major like which aircraft should adjust its altitude to avoid a mid-air collision (I wonder if Air Traffic Control do KIT days?!) but it was still nice to be asked my opinion about something.  Actually that’s a bit unfair. I’m asked for my opinion at home all the time. However such tenders for my wisdom tend to be along the lines of whether I think that yellowish mark on the duvet is shit or vomit, or whether it’s worth starting a new episode of Game of Thrones before the Calpol wears off.

 2.       There were biscuits. But not just that – they were chocolate biscuits. And I ate one, and so did other people as we discussed what had been happening and what projects were on the horizon. And as I watched people eat biscuits I realised something truly liberating – when the crumbs fell on the floor, it wasn’t down to me to ensure those crumbs made their way to the bin! Whilst it’s true to say that none of my colleagues were exactly tidy with biscuit crumbs, it was also nice to note that nobody attempted to shove an entire biscuit into their mouth, orally maul it for so long that it resembled wallpaper paste, and then spit it back out onto the floor.

  3.       I had an adult conversation. Now, you’ll note that this is distinctly different than merely “conversing with adults” as in mum-world, these two things are not the same. Clearly I speak to people at baby groups, but the conversations are all around whose baby is or isn’t sleeping/teething/crawling/rolling over and all that bollocks. It’s lovely to chat to other parents at baby groups, it really is, but I’m yet to come across a scenario where anyone sits down, wipes up a patch of baby vom from their t-shirt and opens with “A bit of sick – ha! Not as embarrassing as the latest leaked Brexit report eh?!”

On the whole I find the dads in the groups a bit more game for conversation that’s NOT about our respective semen-demons. You can throw in something general about the football transfer window, and as soon as they realise you’re not about to talk about your fanny, or show them your episiotomy scar then they’re generally willing to open up a bit….no pun intended.

 4.       I earned some money. The beauty of KIT days is that you get paid for them…..hurrah!  And I can’t exactly say it was one of the most stressful days I’ve ever had in my life (see above points about chatting and eating biscuits) so I got to dip into the world of paid work without bringing any of the stressful malarkey back home with me.

 5.       I appreciated my little guy all the more for being away from him. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I firmly believe this is true for me. I knew he was safe with his Aunty Danielle – the main risk was him being kissed to death – so I could forget about him (in a good way) for 7 hours and just look forward to seeing him when I got home. And as most of my meetings finished by 4:30, I made sure that I really tested out this absence/fondness theory in full, by calling at the supermarket on the way home. It was amazing to be able to browse leisurely around the fruit aisles without having to stop anyone grabbing and biting into Conference pears that I had no prior intention of buying .Oh, and also:  just a sexy, bijou little shopping trolley for me tonight - no big bulky child seat trolley on THIS shopping trip, motherfuckers!

 6.       I felt a bit like the old me again. It’s true to say that I had a fair few “brain fart” moments where I completely forgot the names of projects, people and terminology that was once second nature to me. But I defy anyone to hear the Paw Patrol song every bastard morning and not find themselves a few functioning brain cells lighter than they were previously.

My heart wrenches, you wave frantically at me as I leave you with the childminder. Your eyes tearing up as I hear your cry when I climb into my car. Your tears match my own but I can't show you, I can't let you see my daily breakdowns as I drive away and leave you there.

I am so desperately sad, knowing that most of my time will be filled with work, chores, and the glimpse of joy that you give me. It enrages me to think that these systems we have built keep us away from the most important people in the world. How ridiculous to spend 40 hour weeks away from my beautiful babies...and yet, here we are.

I just want to be with you, making you giggle and seeing you explore our world. I remember this devastation when I put your big sister in care while I went back to work, it doesn't get easier. In fact, I think it gets harder. Now I know how fast time moves.

A huge part of me wants to just sell the house, sell the cars, and live with next to nothing and just be with you. I've been playing the lottery hoping that I could win and rewrite this time of my life. I've quickly come to realise that each time I check to see if I've won, it breaks me down a bit more. It's the hope that gets you sometimes, but we have to hope for better.

I have one more week before I'm back in work and I'm trying to get you used to childcare while wanting nothing more than to keep you and your sister home so I can soak up these moments. Oh my loves, how I yearn to be with you.

It’s like an edge of a cliff, a sharp point in my chest that drives deeper and deeper in the dark hours. I feel it building like a tempest in my mind as my thoughts speed out of control, jumping from one stress to the next. My breathing quickens and I can’t fill my lungs; it’s the only thing I can think about now. A deep breath, one that swells and touches every part of my being and brings my ticker tape mind under control. 

I started writing a worry list to combat this, pages filled with lines of worries. Sometimes when I read them i think, “how ridiculous to worry about your child’s mental health when she’s a teenager...she’s 6 months old!” And yet there I sit, thinking about a future possibility of this wonderful little human, already worried about how the world will shape her. 

I see “work” creep up over and over again, right after time. If you had told me 4 months ago that time was flying, in my sleep deprivation I would have laughed and then cried. Now, as each moment somehow seems fleeting and I want to grasp hold and sit in them, I see how rapidly this time flies. There it settles, a boulder placed on my chest again as I desperately want to slow down and bask in my time with my baby girl. As work looms ahead, it becomes glaringly apparent how little time I will have with her compared to these beautiful moments on maternity leave and I can hardly consider it without tears. 

I started drinking chamomile tea to calm and relax after the day. In a bizarre juxtaposition to the last paragraph, I am desperate for a bit of relaxation and not being “turned on” at all times. I feel guilty about these feelings and the consideration of escaping, just for a bit! My mind instantly returns to, ‘you know you would miss her and think of her the entire time.’ Isn’t it strange how quickly mum guilt appears? Like the blink of an eye and BAM, all of a sudden everything I do and think is filtered through a haze of guilt. Even as I sip my tea I think, ‘I should be asleep right now, there’s no telling how tonight will go.’ Even my relaxation is hijacked! 

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Supervisor: Great. Can you work a health fair the 25th?

Me: ...

Me: ...

Me: Do you even listen to me?

Supervisor: There’s nurses there, if you go into labor they’ll help you out.

Me: ...

Supervisor: It’s pride.

Me: ...

“You can't always get what you want - but if you try sometime you find 

you get what you need“

My cousin Shelley (Not pictured above) is an amazing cousin, mom, birthing coach and all around human. With Jude, she was so attentive and helpful throughout. While in the throes of my pregnancy, she said something that always stuck with me:

“New moms need their moms”

Shelley has first-hand seen the strained and at times, the volatile relationship I have had with my mother throughout the years. And while I do not freely talk about it, I need to state that my mother is a good mother. She is not perfect as I am not a perfect mother, child, wife, friend or human but the one thing I can say is that our hearts are in the right place. We have never sought out to hurt anyone with intent even though the impact might look as though we have.

When I had my first son, my husband was there for me every way possible. I have always heard about women hating their husbands once a baby is born but for us, this was so far from the truth. He stayed up with me during night feedings, never hesitated to take over and let me rest, took on a lot of the chores, cooked and cleaned and cared for me while I looked after our son.

But I wanted my mom. I yearned for that. Someone to just come and take over who I had seen first-hand be a mother and whom I knew had unconditional love for me. Someone I trusted to see me in that vulnerable state.

Someone who would not judge me and let me cry and break down in that way new mothers know so well. My mom who I could be honest with about not knowing what I was doing and admit that I am terrified and they would assure me that they were once there too and everything was going to be fine. I didn’t have that guidance throughout my teenage years or early adulthood and I would forgive all that if I just had it at this point in my life, but I didn’t.

Instead, I kept it in, to myself and just cried during naps and to my cat and dog…which was somewhat helpful as I got to let things out with no judgement and since my dog was part pug -  he always looked sad, so in a way, I felt he was feeling for me? I guess? I miss him so much.

My problem, and I know it’s a problem, is that I have been told “no” for so much of my life and for basic needs that I have no idea how to ask for help, especially when I need it the most. It's almost easier to assume its “No” and just try to figure it out on my own. And because of this, most people assume and feel that I am strong and don’t need the help but I do. My hurt and struggle seep out in other ways that are not ideal and I am learning how to correct this flaw, but it takes time.

My mom wanted to be there for me. I know this. But I just knew from our past it would not be an ideal situation. With tensions high as they were and have been throughout the past decades, I knew I could not handle one of our spats. Not at this point in my life. I couldn’t trust either of us with not making it worse.

A month before I had my son, a friend of mine had his wife come over for us to meet as we were due a week apart and lived across from each other. I usually don’t like “setups” but I just went with it. I didn’t realize the impact of what this meeting would bring.

Devon came in and made herself right at home. Normally, I would be hesitant about such a bold person but her presence was so disarming, warm and fun. We laughed instantly and got along. From then on we hung out daily from when our children were born. We went through everything together.

Helped each other out. Vented, cried, celebrated, but mostly laughed.  She comes from similar circumstances and I feel we were there for each other as mothers should be for their daughters. We treated each other with enormous love and respect. I love her family fiercely. I don’t have many relationships that give what they take. I am constantly reminded that I need to expect way less from people, even when it’s the bare minimum. But with Devon, she gives and gives and gives. I would be lost without her. I would not be the mother I am without her love and influence. She was the second best part of my mat leave, Jude obv being the first.

And things did stop with our children. She single-handedly helped and set up my wedding. She designed the room, organized the day, greeted every guest and remembered their names. My wedding would not have been without her and all of her help and excitement. And she did not expect a thing back. She did it for my happiness. She just gives and gives.

She Just had her second child in April, and with myself being due in October, my anxiety calmed and excitement was fueled for another mat leave with her. We would have each other once again but this time we are both stronger, smarter and seasoned moms.

Cut too a few weeks ago. She sent me a video one morning telling me that she is moving. It gutted me. In a selfish way. I was heartbroken that she will not be there in her PJs in the morning to both give us a break. She and her beautiful new son won’t be there every day to break things up, share food, go for walks, visit the drop-ins, go to the zoo/aquarium. And most of all, our new sons won’t have the beautiful and loving friendship that our firstborns share.

I cried so hard after I got that message. Panic set in. I was scared as I don’t have many relationships built on that level of love and respect, and I was worried to lose one that meant so much.

BUT at the same time, I cannot help but be so happy and excited for them. It’s an amazing the change and its a lot of love shown back to her and her family. No one deserves it more. Devon and her family give and give and that fills my heart that good is being returned to people who deserve it.

They are not moving far; I can visit weekly. And I thankfully have a few more amazing moms expecting and around whom I love dearly as well.

My hope is everyone is blessed with a Mom or a Devon for when they become a Mother. And be truly grateful for them.

SHOUT OUT TO RACHAEL...(Pictured below) you’re NOT allowed to move!