With my first pregnancy I was so excited to be leaving work for a year. I’d worked for 9 years straight out of uni and I was in a role at work that needed a lot of commitment. I loved it to bits but I felt I was ready for a break. An entire year off work with a cute little baby to raise. I had never had either before. It was going to be fantastic. I was going to go for countless coffee and cake mornings, meet friends and maybe even take up an evening class in photography or baking. Things I loved but never get very good at.
I remember walking out of the office on the last day with a slightly surreal feeling. My bump told me it was real but 12 months off work didn’t quite register. I would come back and just pick up where I left off.
How I miss that blissful ignorance this time round. Apparently I will be much calmer and confident this time round and the sheer fact that we STILL have bits to get, a crib to build and possibly the car seat to swap with another one. It’ll come together in the end I’m sure so I’m not worried about that bit. This time I know a year is a long time. I won’t necessarily pick up where I left off at work which means I won’t necessarily see the same colleagues again. That bit feels a bit final. Although the nature of these places dictates these things and something else will come along to fill that hole. It’s something you get used to in that kind of industry.
I know the sleepless nights are coming but I am hoping my semi permanent insomnia post Little Z has armed me, at least a little bit,with a steely shield of round the clock alertness. And a teeny tiny deluded part of me is still hoping the baby sleeps through straight away. I could be like those smug mums who brag about it every chance they get and and who are obviously lying. They are.
It does feel amazingly good to finally put the work laptop away for a bit, as much as I’ll miss it. It’s one more big step to meeting the new baby and give us some much needed slow days to just potter about.
And of course there are plenty of people to sympathise, usually with something like…
“I wish I was having a year off work!”
(Week 8 of Project 52 and linking up to Sunday Photo)