The agony and the agony of returning to work after maternity leave

Natalie Lue writes...

One of the first things people say to you when you have a baby is to start looking for childcare. They don’t tell you that childbirth actually really, really hurts, or that you never do quite return to your minimal farting self, but they do advise that you start making the rounds of childminders and nurseries as soon as you’re mobile again.

Now I know that I’ve been mobile since about six weeks after the birth of the bambino but I only started looking for childcare last week. She’s just over six months old….and I return to work in just over 4 weeks… Aaaaaaaghhh! Being totally truthful, I figured that if I didn’t look for a childminder, returning to work wouldn’t seem real, and I could pretend that my maternity leave went on forever. Who knew I would enjoy being at home so much?

I’m going to say something that I know a lot of women are afraid to admit: I actually like being at home with my daughter and in an ideal world, I’d stay home. There, it’s been said. Now don’t get me wrong, I am ambitious, I’m intelligent (the boyf may beat me at Big Brain Academy but so what?), and it is important for my brain to be stimulated, but the thought of my daughter spending four days a week with another woman for her to depend on makes my stomach go into a knot. Unfortunately we don't live in an ideal world and unless you're loaded or OK with scrimping and scraping, you have to get your ass back out to work whether you want to or not.

The bambino has had a couple of overnighters and has been babysat by her gran and I’m always surprised at how much it hurts when she gives us the blankety blank cheque book and pen on our return. She refuses to look us in the eye and no matter which way we follow her face to make her look at us, the cheeky little thing looks the other way! The first time she did this, I felt like I’d been slapped in the face but now I just turn into a performing seal to get back into her good books.

The thing about maternity leave is that it flies by so quickly that before you know it, it’s time to go back to work but you realise that you never did work your way through the Jamie Oliver cookbook, or get into ironing, or stick to your carefully laid out plan of doing the housework all in one go. I still have a book to finish, boxes of stuff that need to be unpacked, and all those clothes that I wanted to put on eBay, but there just aren’t enough hours in the week. Now with just over four weeks to go, I wonder should I abandon cooking and cleaning and savour my last bit of freedom before reality sets in?

The trouble with returning to work for me is that I feel conflicted. I have been with her 95% of the time since she has been born and listened to her blow raspberries, chuckle, giggle, howl with laughter, and fart like a trooper. I’ve watched her grow and develop every day and now she sits up (when it suits her), rolls over like a maniac, kicks like a donkey, grabs everything in her path, shuffles around the room on her bum, eats with gusto, cries when we attempt to comb her ever increasing afro, and blows milk in my face because she thinks she’s hilarious. She has depended on me for pretty much everything and now she’ll depend on someone else who will get to see her making all her changes. I’ll get to see the highlights…

On the other hand, part of me relishes the prospect of returning back to work to get my teeth into a new challenge. Working part time should go a long way to protecting me from some of the political bullsh*t that accompanies working in an office but I’m looking forward to working with my ever diminishing group of buddies and doing Michael Jackson impressions…

Because of the flexibility that I have, I realise that I’d be foolish not to give the whole commuting into London as a working mum thing a go but it’s not going to be easy and I will relish my last month of freedom. If I could get her to crawl, walk, and talk right now, I’d bloody try! I don’t know how those women who try to or claim to have it all do it, because I already know that the price I pay for going back to work (other than the astronomical childcare fees) is that I’m going to miss out.

Obviously I know we have to eat and I don’t do well living in mess so the so I’ll have to squash the idea of not cooking or tidying this month. Maybe the cleaning fairy that men believe exists to pick up socks, wet towels, and beer bottles will finally appear before my eyes and take over for the next few weeks. I can only dream...

Natalie Lue is currently on maternity leave and is looking for a hiding place in the house in preparation for her first day of work ;-)

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