Returning to Work

A Note to My Babies & Myself

I return to work this Monday and I’m not very excited about it. Before I get to that, I must acknowledge how lucky I am to have gotten 20 weeks of maternity leave this time around and that my job allows reasonable flexibility as I transition to full-time corporate life. It’s hard to fathom that one quarter of employed mothers are back at work by week three after giving birth, and most are back by 12 weeks.¹ It’s cruel to the child and to the mother, and it is the number one thing I care about when I vote. If you care about this, too, I encourage you to read Emily Oster’s article, The State of Parental Leave. There is plenty we can do to help influence this much needed change.

So, I recognize what a gift these 20 weeks have been, and the thought of going back to work is still like a big rock in my stomach and weight on my chest. I can so easily spiral into doubt and guilt and self pity, which is all okay to feel. But when I’m ready to come out of that, I read these letters to Harrison and myself that remind me it’s going to be okay. I hope that by sharing them, they can offer some reassurance for other parents grappling with big, scary changes.

Dear Harrison,

You’ve been my little Velcro baby for the past 5 months, and I've loved this time at home with you. We’ve grown together and learned each other and experienced a lot of newness.

Here we are, about to start something new again. You’re going to daycare with Millie, and I’m going back to work. It might feel unfamiliar and scary at first, but we’re going to find a new rhythm that works for us.

Your daycare teachers will take wonderful care of you, their hearts are going to melt when you flash them that big smile of yours. Millie will be there to check on you, she’s so excited to introduce you to all her friends.

You’ll get to play with other babies and with new toys. Your days will be full of adventure and exploration. It’s going to be such a treat to watch you grow and thrive in a new environment.

The sleep part may be a struggle - there are strange smells and sounds and new people. But just like you figured out how to sleep in your crib at home, you’ll figure it out there in your own time. And we’ll make up for the missed naps with lots of sleepy snuggles at home.

You’re going to learn that other people can take great care of you and that when Mommy leaves, she always comes back. It will be the best part of my day to scoop you up and drive you and Millie home, hearing about all the fun Millie had that day.

One of my most important jobs as a mom is to let you experience uncomfortable transitions without rescuing you every time. You are strong and adaptable and can do this. Daycare doesn’t change how much I love you.

Love,

Mama

I consulted ChatGPT to help write my letter and I love what she said:

Dear Maria,

You do not have to decide today whether this whole arrangement is working forever.

You just have to let it be new.

You are allowed to miss him while you work. You are allowed to feel relieved to use your brain and talk to adults and then ache for him twenty minutes later. Those feelings don’t cancel each other out.

Most importantly: his struggle with something new is not evidence that you have made the wrong decision.

Is he smiling? Is he engaging with his teachers? Is he slowly learning the rhythms of this new place?

Let those things tell you how he’s doing—not the scared voice in your head telling you that a bad nap (or no nap) means your baby needs his mother.

Of course he needs his mother. He has her.

He has a mother who notices. A mother who will advocate for him. A mother who will change course if something truly isn’t working.

You don’t have to preemptively rescue him from something that he may simply need time to learn.

Give him that time. Give yourself the chance to discover what this next version of your life looks like.

And give yourself time, too.

You’ve been living in a completely different world for the past five months. Your days have revolved around feeding a baby, healing your body, broken sleep, and keeping two little people alive and loved. You are not supposed to walk back into the corporate world on Monday morning and immediately operate like the version of you who left it.

Your brain might feel slow. You might be tired at 2 p.m. You might stare at a Slack message for an absurd amount of time trying to remember how normal adults communicate.

Be kind to her. She’s not less capable. She’s adjusting.

You do not need to prove your value in the first week—or even the first month. Listen. Ask questions. Let your brain wake back up. Your competence did not disappear while you were on leave.

And remember that work is only one part of the life you’re returning to.

Take care of yourself during the work day. Take walks, get outside, close the laptop when the day is over. There will always be another thing that feels urgent. You are responsible for protecting your peace.

And when you get home, don’t turn the evening into a frantic attempt to make up for the hours you weren’t with Harrison.

You don’t owe Harrison an extraordinary evening because you worked that day.

Feed him. Hold him. Laugh with him if he’s awake. Put him to bed early if he’s exhausted.

Just be his mom.

Because in doing that, Harrison will know:

You don’t love him less when you’re working.

You are choosing a life that has room for all of you, and being a mom doesn’t require you to disappear.

You don’t have to know exactly what that life looks like yet. Allow for an adjustment period and trust yourself. You’ll know if something needs to change.

1. Emily Oster’s The State of Parental Leave