What a Difference a Day Makes



Yesterday was my (youngest) baby's first day at daycare. She turned 11 weeks old yesterday, and dropping her off into the hands of strangers was pretty much the equivalent of ripping my own heart out and chunking it into the Guadalupe River. I couldn't even make it out of the daycare infants' room without being in tears. It took me an hour and a half just to leave, and it's not like she was even crying or discontented. She was fine! I, however, was not. I cried all the way to the office. And, just when I thought I was done, I turned down the hallway in front of my office only to see a fellow grad student mom with her baby, which just opened the floodgates again. Luckily for me, my two good mommy/grad student friends are just down the hall, and they ushered me into the office for a nice little sit down cry-and-talk session. I didn't go through this with my oldest daughter because my mom quit her job to stay at home with her. Thus, my friends reassured me that: my pain was normal, (most) every mom goes through this, and my baby would not only be alive, but probably doing very well when I went to pick her up later in the afternoon. Indeed, she was. Her daddy had provided a lunchtime visit to feed her the noon bottle, and he left her snug as a bug in her crib.

Today is a much different day. I took baby in, put her things away, gave her lots of hugs and kisses, and handed her to the lead nursery worker.....And I didn't cry! And I haven't cried yet! I'm not happy about it, and I could still very easily cry at some point today, but I'm okay with the fact that she has to be where she is if my husband and I want to actually finish our PhD programs and have jobs. So, for now I'll take advantage of (almost) every minute that I must be away from her by working and being productive on my dissertation....yeah, wish me luck with that!