The Force as in the Work Force, as in I am returning to it tomorrow. Monday, June 13th marks the day I start my new job.
I knew this day was inevitable, but I was not ready for it. Ryland was not ready for it. Which is good in a way, I think it makes it easier. All of a sudden I have a job and now it’s time to leave and if there had been more preparation and planning, then I would be too upset to even function and I’d back out. The quickness of it left less time to think and obsess. Still, it’s hard. I am not nervous about the job itself; it’s work I can do easily and the environment is a familiar one.
But I won’t lie, I am very sad, with this deep feeling of regret permeating my body. Regret of leaving Ryland. I know that it’s fine and that he’s fine and we’ll be fine and it will all work out and I am doing the right thing. I know all the logical and reasonable aspects of the situation. Knowing this does not alleaviate my trepidation and my longing to be home with my son. It doesn’t lessen the guilt or the fear. It doesn’t comfort me or make me feel good. All the smart, sane and sound thinking behind this decision doesn’t matter when stacked up against my emotional struggles. I know mothers go back to work all over the world and their babies are no worse off. But that is those moms and those babies. It is not me and it is not Ryland. My brain says “go to work” and my instincts say “stay at home” and having to choose between those two is not an easy task. I know what everyone else wants me to do, but I’m not so famous for doing what everyone else wants. They say “Take the job!” I said “No way!”
In the end, though, I decided that the job is what I needed to do. Despite my instincts. Despite the fact that it’s what the world thinks I should do.
Because I have to at least give it a try, I have to make the effort, and if I fail, for whatever reason, then I can come home with a clear conscience and know that I tried. If it doesn’t work out, then I’ll reevaluate and make appropriate adjustments. I am not a believer of fate and destiny, but I do think everything happens for a reason. This job came along to test me. Pass or fail, I had to take the test. We’ll see what happens.
If it comes to putting Ryland in daycare, then I will quit. Daycare is a great solution for many families and I’ve seen countless children who thrive in that environment. But for my family, for me and for my son, traditional daycare is not an option. We all have to make choices in our lives and do what we feel is right for ourselves and those we care about and just as I wouldn’t criticize another mother for staying at home or going back to work or using daycare or letting the grandparents, uncles, aunts, neighbors, etc care for their children, I am not going to criticize myself for what I want, nor will I allow myself to be criticized by others. I have my own beliefs and feelings about the way children should be raised but those are MY beliefs and feelings and I’m certainly not going to tell anyone else to follow along. What works for me isn’t going to work for everyone else. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone tell me how to raise my child. Nothing irks me more than hearing about how my entire parenting style is wrong.
For instance, Ryland is going to be 10 months soon and I am starting to get the question “so, how much longer are you going to breastfeed?” in increasing frequency. The question itself doesn’t bother me and plenty of the people asking it are simply curious, asking without judgement, but plenty of the people asking ARE judging and I can hear it in their tone of voice and their attitude. As if feeding my son has anything to do with them. I will breastfeed Ryland till he’s in fucking college if I feel like it. ARGH. It annoys me so much. I see little toddlers, from age 1 to 4, running around with bottles all the time, but no one is going up to those mothers saying “so when are you going to stop giving that bottle?” But because it’s my BREAST, then for pete’s sake I need to stop giving it to him Right Now or else he will become an evil demon as an adult.
Okay, clearly I have some strong feelings about this and I may be a *tad* defensive, but for good reason, I say! For good reason!
Anyway, it’s hi-ho hi-ho tomorrow. I hope I am doing the right thing, and if I’m not doing the right thing I hope I realize it before any real damage is done.