We attended my company picnic tonight and the same question was asked of me over and over again - when are you coming back? The answer is 4 more weeks.
That means I have 4 more weeks of seeing every smile, every tear, every blink and every everything my darling little girl emits.
I'm so torn on how I feel about going back to work. I know I am a better parent and wife when I work. I'm more balanced when I work. I get to go out of mom and wife mode for a little bit and turn into a little bit of different person. But at the same time, I know I will likely miss the first steps with Sasha, just like I did with Dylan. It was heartbreaking when Dave called me one day after picking D up from daycare and told me he had finally taken a couple of steps. I know I might miss the first word.
In 4 weeks I will no longer be there to rock her to sleep for naps and will no longer be there when she wakes up. In 4 weeks I will no longer nurse her throughout the day and feel her skin against mine. I will feel the cold hard plastic of breast pump cones instead. I won't be able to watch those beautiful eyelashes while she eats and watch them flutter in that yummy place between sleep and awake. I will watch the level on the bottle to make sure I pump enough for her to have milk for the next day. I won't get the smiles throughout the day which she gives me when she locks eyes with me. The smiles only I get. She smiles at other people, but those smile are a little bigger and brighter for me. The promise of that smile and the smile of her darling brother will get me through my day.
In 4 weeks I will have to hear about her days rather than live them. I will have to learn about my daughter's new accomplishments from another person rather than experience them myself.
In 4 weeks, I will drop my baby girl off for the day and will do it through tears just as I sit and type this through tears.