Transition

This past week baby spent two mornings with the sitter to get her (and me) used to it. I had tried to prepare myself for it (mostly by crying a lot beforehand) and I’d been telling baby that she was going to visit Tatie Marie. The first morning arrived and I reminded baby again about the day’s plan. My voice got funny though and I tried not to let tears drip on her. She stopped her feeding and I swear looked at me as if I had two heads. Then my husband and I took her to the sitter.

I was able to speak coherently for a few minutes to give some information to the sitter and then it got to me again. So with an awkward kiss on baby’s head, I left before I started disturbing baby more. She wasn’t crying at all, which prompted my husband to joke (not for the first time) that maybe I should stay at the sitter’s and baby should go to work.

Back at home I tried to keep busy, by writing emails (yeah, I’m good at that), doing the dishes, etc. I didn’t linger too much on things like smelling baby’s clothes as I knew that would lead to more tears. I did print out a picture of baby to have in my wallet so once I’m back in the working world I can take a look at her easily (and show her off to others).

The sitter had told me to call some time in the morning to see how baby was doing (she must know how much the moms want to call!). So around 10 I checked on her and she’d taken her bottle and was being fairly calm. Then I headed out to get my hair cut, something which is tough to do with a baby in tow. As I waited to get my hair washed I caught up on celebrity news in a magazine. And when I saw an ad with a little girl I wondered instinctively if baby would look like her one day. That brought a tear or two so I tried to think of other things.

So one cut and “brushing” later, I emerged with neater though very straight hair. I walked back home and debated when I should go pick baby up without seeming too eager. But oh heck, I went a bit early anyway to talk to the sitter and see how baby had done. She was resting calmly in Tatie Marie’s arms and apparently hadn’t cried too much and had even napped.

So we both survived. I suppose I did enjoy being able to get things done while she was with the sitter, but I felt a tiny bit guilty that someone else was taking care of her. And I think next week when I really have to leave her there every morning and go to work the reality will set in. Part of me wishes I could start all over again, from that moment in the hospital when they showed her to me. And I swear I wouldn’t stress as much and I would enjoy every minute. Well, instead I’ll just have to vow to enjoy every minute from now on.