No Use Crying Over Spilled Milk

Despite celebrating a meaningful first Father's Day on Sunday, this week was a bit bittersweet for me. I returned to work on Wednesday after a three-month maternity leave. I had been dreading leaving Shelby for weeks and it seemed like I cried every other day. Sunday night was really rough. I mourned not being able to feed her during the day. I mourned the loss of our morning walks. I even mourned not being able to monitor what every dirty diaper looks like. I wasn't worried about her, I was worried about me. Counting all the months I carried her around in my belly, I hadn't been away from Shelby in almost a year! That's some major separation anxiety!

The drive to work on Wednesday was hard. Really hard. I had never been apart from Shelby for more than a couple of hours. I thought eight hours would be agony. And the thought of having to pump instead of feed her bummed me out in a huge way. However, much to my amazement, the day flew by. And I made it to the next day. And the next. And now it's Friday and I made it through the first week.

Maybe the time has gone by quickly because I've been able to chat with other adults, and the topic of conversation always steers toward my sweet baby girl. Or maybe the days fly by because I have projects and work to focus on and take my mind of missing Shelby. Or maybe the hours go by quickly because I'm trying to navigate this new world of pumping and I've been forced to find humor in things like spilling an entire bottle of milk across my desk. Yes, that really happened this morning. And you know what? I had to laugh.