I’m on my last few weeks of maternity leave and trying to get myself back in the mindset of Dolly Parton and the 9 to 5. Let me get one thing straight – maternity leave is no holiday. You are responsible for keeping a tiny human alive. It’s a bloody hard job. But, it’s a really rewarding one. I can’t quite believe how quickly the time has gone. Sonny will be be eight months and a bit when I return to the office, part-time. My heart is already breaking at the thought of leaving him to ease myself back into the working world. On the really rough days, you fantasise about having a day, or holy shit, a night to yourself. Me and hubby have had a few evenings off, but all you do is talk about your little human, wriggling and (probably) wailing at home in the care of your loved ones.
It’s a very personal decision for every woman whether or not to return to work. For me, at least, it is a financial necessity. But, it’s also a way for me to retain some aspect of me, the me before I had Sonny. I’ve drifted into journalism as a career path, but it will never make me a millionaire. While I love the freedom that money gives you, it’s never been my god. Certainly, as I grow older and become more comfortable in my skin, I know, the most important thing in your life is the people that are in it. As a good friend once said to me, “everything else is just stuff”.
Still, I have fire in my belly. I am ambitious and passionate and I know I’ve a lot to give this world. I’ve coasted a lot throughout my 20’s and 30’s and there’s nothing wrong with that. I just know that I’m more than a sum of my parts. I can be a great mum and a woman with a career. That’s important to me. I think it’s a lot down to my mother, who has always encouraged us to work hard, and follow our hearts. “The world is your oyster,” she has said again and again.
That all said, my heart is breaking at the thought of leaving Sonny to nursery. My little baby who is fast becoming a little boy. I treasure every second with you, my love, your cries, your sighs, your giggles, your snores. I adore you with everything that I am. I don’t want to miss a thing… and before I start sounding like an Aerosmith record, I’ll tear myself back from the brink, and know that what I’m doing is the right thing. It’s hard, bursting that perfectly imperfect bubble of motherhood, the lazy mornings where it’s just you and me, you pushing your tiny fingers into my face, staring into my eyes, giggling at me pulling silly faces.
Yes, it’s time to face the next chapter, where I return to work and you, Sonny, become a little boy. I am so, so proud of the beautiful, bright and funny little guy that you becoming, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life making you happy and helping you become a good man. To do that though, I also need to look after me. I’ll be a better mum if I am fulfilling my dreams, although, even I do nothing than be your mum, I’ve won the lottery a million times.