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| Rosie and I on Pentecost Sunday. |
Up until about a month ago, I had always flirted with the idea of going back to work. I liked having the option to one day decide to go back to my previous life where I got dressed up every day, went to earn my own money and have adult conversations. Although the position I had was not in my field, I truly enjoyed my job as an administrative assistant and I worked for a great company. My employers were really good to me and I felt appreciated for my work.
Then Rosie was born and I found myself working for this tiny
dictator who never seemed content with what
I was doing, was constantly yelling at me ( crying), would use sleep
deprivation as a torture technique and NEVER seemed to appreciate what I was
doing, albeit notice my existence. It was an immensely tough transition. I went
from talking on the phone to dozens of customers and many coworkers, to being
by myself all day, every day. I think I could have coped with the loneliness
but on top of it, I had to spend my entire day dying to myself in order to take
care of this tiny human being who needed me all the time for everything. By the
time my husband would get home from work, I would be starved for conversation
but I also needed to be alone. So I’d hand the baby off to my husband for some "me" time (which usually included some kind of household chore…fun) and by the
time I was ready to talk, Dane would have fallen asleep on the couch. Had it
not been for my mom coming to see me and being there to aunswer my phone calls,
I think I might have lost my mind.
The first 3 months of parenthood were so tough and while
covered in baby vomit with a newborn attached to my boob, I would find myself
imagining I was getting ready to go to work and talking to coworkers over a cup
of coffee. I even daydreamed about organizing the office files exactly the way
I wanted them. I quickly learned that although I had previously dreamed of
staying at home with my baby, it was not exactly what
I had imagined it to be. How so you may ask? Well in my stay at home fantasy I
always had time to get ready. In fact I was wearing a 50’s housewife styled
dress with a matching hair-do and heels. My house was spotless and my baby
napped on demand. I was involved in many social endeavors including volunteer
groups, mom and baby workout classes, mom and baby drop in’s and the likes. I
was very organized and would cheerfully do groceries with a baby who never
fussed so I could prepare delicious homemade suppers for my husband that would
be ready the moment he set foot in the door. Speaking of my husband, he would
be well taken care of and our relationship would just magically grow in love
and commitment to each other. I could go on but I think you get where I’m going
with this.
Instead I was left with old over-sized ripped t-shirts and
sweatpants. A 3 day old unwashed ponytail with hopefully a shower in the last 48
hours but sometimes, sadly, it could go longer. My house was a DISASTER with
piles of dirty laundry stacked everywhere. My baby never slept and if she did, it was on me after endless hours of nursing. I barely had time to eat never
mind volunteer my time and going to play groups was made impossible by my A)
lack of a vehicle and B) the effort of bringing a newborn into public was just
too much work. My suppers were mostly out of a box and would not be cooked until Dane came home from work and could
hold the baby which meant we were eating very late at night. By which time we
would be too tired to talk and also I was just like “Eh get away from me and
don’t touch me”.
It was in those first months that the idea of going back to
work really appealed to me. But time went on and by some miracle I started to
“get it”. My stay at home fantasy started to kind of come together (minus the
heels) and the idea of going back to work became less and less appealing. Dane
and I both grew up with our mom’s at home. It was something that meant a lot to
the both of us and we had agreed that if the opportunity came we would take it.
As time went on and my maternity leave began coming to end, we knew it was time
to make a decision. Actually there was really no decision other than the fact
that we knew money was going to be tight. We are by no means well off
financially. I mean we’re not destitute but it’s not like I’m buying steak
every week. We have one vehicle which we bought used, we rent our house, I meal
plan and price match to cut on groceries. We rarely eat out. We shop at second
hand stores, we don’t have cable. We make sacrifices. But even with all the planning and the fact
that I knew it was coming, the day I told my employer I was not coming back was
very difficult. I felt like I was closing up a chapter of my life.
For a few weeks after the decision I also thought of maybe
going back to work but doing something else. Like a part time waitressing job,
or a work from home position or maybe even my own business. I was hesitant to
really say : I am going to stay home with my daughter, that is my life now. Then
one day, for no reason whatsoever, but possibly because we had been praying for
guidance, I saw my life as it should be. I knew I needed to stay home, not just
for Rosie but for my husband and myself. This is where God needs me to be right
now. It may mean that sometimes Dane works during the weekends and it may mean
that we don’t go on fancy trips never mind take vacations but this is the cross
God is asking us to bear right now. Sure I get lonely sometimes and my life
does get quite repetitive. But it’s amidst the loneliness and the repetition
that I encounter God – in those every day moments. He reveals Himself to me in
a sweet smile from my daughter or her cute little laugh, through a funny moment
shared with my husband and from kisses sneaked in while the baby is playing.
This is how God has chosen to lead me to sainthood. It’s not glamorous or
exciting but at the end of the day after I close my eyes, I rest in the the
knowledge that I have accomplished His plan for my life and isn’t that what we
all are trying to achieve?
