Jaclyn Armstrong: working mama

Showing posts with label working mama. Show all posts

It's 11:00pm. I'll be dropping the kids off at daycare at 7:00am. I am a sobbing mess. I am not handling it well AT ALL.

I know there are plenty of working moms out there, but there are also a ton of stay-at-home moms. And I am so jealous of them right now. It may be the hardest job in the world, but it is the only job I want.

Adaleigh is so little. So innocent and new, with that perfect new baby scent and smooth, glowing skin. We've barely even met. I don't feel like we've had the time together that we need... the time to bond and get to know each other. She's only been here for 8 weeks.

Somehow I'm supposed to hand her off to someone else in the morning and turn my back. Someone that has no idea she already has a ticklish spot on her side, or loves to hear you sing her name. Someone that hasn't walked miles in circles around the house, just to get her to fall asleep. Someone that isn't planning for her first ballet recital, her first heartbreak, and the day she gets married. Someone that hasn't even met her yet.

I love hanging my walls with tiny little handprints and scribbles, and I love watching Logan light up at the sight of his friends in the morning, but I'm tired of sharing him. I don't want the tired, cranky Logan that I get as I scramble to make dinner after a long day of work. I want the happy, playful Logan just after a nap. I want surprise hugs and kisses throughout the day, and long walks around the neighborhood. I don't want a story at bedtime, I want a shelf of books throughout the day. I want the little baby I dropped off at daycare last year back in my life. I want all of the smiles and tears that I've missed for so long.

Those babies are my world. I will miss so much... so much that I will never get back. They will grow and change, all without me watching. They will never know the tears and heartache I felt every day I turned and said goodbye.

Maternity leave is coming to an end far too quickly. I look at the untouched skin and innocent eyes of this precious little girl, and I can't imagine that she's ready to enter the world away from her mama. Tomorrow I will leave her to the care of another, hoping and praying she makes it through the day unfazed. I want her to miss me, but learn to survive without me. I want her to find the balance between relying on others for her basic needs, but still preferring mama any chance she gets. I hope she finds comfort and peace in her new surroundings, with her brother just a few steps down the hall. I pray that she feels loved, not abandoned. I hope that the days go by quickly, and the evenings at home together slow down to enjoy. I hope every minute I get at home with my little ones seems to last forever. Those moments are limited now, but I will cherish every one.

Even at 20 months, I don't find it easy to leave Logan every day. I worry that he doesn't understand why he's not at home with us every day. I'm scared that there are moments during the day that take him by surprise, and he doesn't have mommy and daddy for comfort. My heart is always with him, and I hope he feels the love we send with him every day.

Now we will leave two little ones, two precious souls, two innocent babies. I don't know that I will ever find peace with the guilt in my heart, but I try to remember that I am doing what I have to do. The last few weeks have been wonderful, and I will cherish them forever.

A few weeks ago, in an effort to bring a little more happiness to our lives, I started a new job. A normal Monday through Friday, 8-5 kind of job. Gone are long hours at the hospital, working every holiday, and a chaotic life of little sleep and no routine.

Being home with my boys every night for dinner and bedtime has been great. Weekends as a family with normal sleeping hours has been even better. Having a smiling little boy speed crawl to me in the afternoons when I pick him up from daycare is an added bonus.

The one thing I wasn't ready for? Serious mommy guilt. Before this job change Logan was in daycare 3 days a week. I missed him like crazy, but I never felt very guilty because I knew how good it was for him to get the socialization and interaction that only daycare can provide. I don't know why 2 more days has made such a difference, but it is killing me. I know we're doing the best we can, and what we have to do, but I hate feeling like my child is with strangers more than he's with us. I hate not knowing what's going on in that little head of his. And as much as I love his reaction when he first lays eyes on me in the afternoon, it breaks my heart to see the tears roll down his face when I tell him bye every morning.

I try to remind myself that daycare is good for his development. I remind myself of the millions of other parents and kids going through the same thing. And Nick reminds me that Logan will never love me any less because he spends his days in school. But all of the reminders in the world can't take away the pit at the bottom of my stomach Monday through Friday.

For now I will work as hard as I can to race to that sweet little face as fast as I can every day. And I will cherish the time we do have together, and family meals at the dinner table, and tucking my sweet little boy into bed each night. Things I have missed or taken for granted for far too long.

I've spent the last 48 hours browsing, researching, and over analyzing a backpack and lunch box for little man to take to daycare. I've compared sizes and materials, read hundreds of reviews, and stared at the same pictures over and over. Nick thought I was going completely insane. He didn't understand why it mattered... Just pick one! I began to wonder what was wrong with me, when I became this level of crazy, when it hit me... the more I stress about the perfect backpack and lunch box, the less I have to stress about the fact that Logan is starting daycare tomorrow.

This is how I deal with things. I can't handle the amount of anxiety that is growing inside of me as we near D-day, so I stress about the things that I have control over. Right now, all I have is a backpack and lunch box to distract me from what I'm really feeling inside. So in the hours leading up to tomorrow morning, I have researched, shopped, and spent hours creating lists and schedules and labeling everything I own with the name of the most precious thing in the world to me.

I still may be a little crazy. Probably a lot of crazy. But tonight I feel a little better packing Logan's things in a ridiculously overpriced toddler-sized backpack, and you can't put a price on peace of mind.

I was busy running around the house tonight getting everything ready when I said to Nick that I couldn't believe how stressed and anxious I was. He simply replied, it's just like every other night before your first day of school. Except that tomorrow when Logan is meeting new people and learning his new surroundings, I won't be there with him. I won't be there to protect and comfort him, and share in his excitement and awe of new things. I won't put him down for his naps, I won't feed him his meals, and I won't be there to tell him that everything will be okay. It's a big day for him, but an even bigger step for me as I learn to lose just the right amount of control and begin the long road of trusting that I am doing what is best for Logan.

Balance. The key to happiness, fulfillment, and peace. A word that has no place in my life.

Back when life seemed perfect, when I worked part-time and spent most days with Logan, my life had a surreal sense of balance. I had the best of both worlds... plenty of time to snuggle and play with my little man, but just enough time away in the company of other adults to keep my sanity. I blogged my thoughts and pictures, used all my craftiness to tackle my favorite pinterest finds, met my bestest for weekly walks and lunch, kept the house clean and the kitchen stocked, and even cooked an elaborate meal every once in a while. I was doing (almost) everything in life I wanted to do.

Since becoming the breadwinner of the family, balance has been stripped from my routine. I spend most nights at work, at least 1 day recovering from night shift (and often 2, because my shifts are split most weeks), and the other hours/days I'm a walking zombie. I can't form coherent thoughts, let alone be inspired to write or make something brilliant. Most of my meals are granola bars or yogurt and lots of coffee. I see plenty of Nick, but I'm usually so tired and cranky (and resentful) that we can't enjoy a minute together.
My time with Logan is so limited it breaks my heart. For the past month he has begun crying whenever I enter the room or he hears the sound of my voice. If I'm home he wants serious snuggle time (which I love). I'm missing milestones and playtime... and days that I will never get back.

I can't find the time to do any of the hobbies I love. When I'm scrolling through posts or pinterest (at stoplights, while nursing, etc) it always saddens me when I realize I will never have time to do the things I find. Not this week, not next week, not next month. I have unfinished projects from the good ol' days collecting dust in the back of closets.

Work. Sleep. Repeat.

I've been hoping to find God and bring Him back into our lives, but most Sunday mornings I am leaving work only to return again Sunday night. I can sacrifice sleep to meet with a friend or for a playdate, but I can't enjoy anything when I've been up for 24 hrs.

I just can't get it figured out.

I need balance. I need to enjoy life again. I need to be happy to be at work, and happy to be at home (awake).

Nick has spent the last week in Mississippi for annual training with the TNARNG, which means I have spent the last week at home with my little man. I have loved every second of it. I've savored every snuggle, stolen ~~a few~~ a thousand extra kisses, and lived my life the way I always dreamed it would be.

If the last 6 months have taught me anything, it's that I will never get used to being away from my little love. He truly is the light of my life, and brings so much joy to each day. Leaving him at home while I go off to work will never get easier. I can never get enough smiles or giggles from that little boy.

I know many moms struggle with the same challenges that I do, but I don't have to like it. The realization that this week is coming to an end brings tears to my eyes. The past few days have been nothing short of amazing.

I'm terrified that when I return to work tomorrow, my relationship with little man will change. We will always share a special bond as mother and son, but it isn't the same when I'm out of the house most nights of the week (and sleeping my days away). It hasn't been the same since I went back to work full-time. I love being his comfort and security, and I don't want to hand the reigns back to Nick (even though he truly does an amazing job). It hurts to know I can't be the constant in his life that I want to be.

For now I will rock him a little longer, hug him a little tighter, and make every moment we have together special. And when Daddy returns home next week, I will do everything I can to keep him a Mama's boy.

I used to run. Like really run. I transformed myself in 2010 from a proud, non-running, lazy lady into a half-marathon I-run-for-fun freak. I loved it. I lost weight, Nick and I had a new hobby to enjoy together, and did I mention I lost weight?

Then I got pregnant. I always vowed to run throughout my pregnancy, but then I got pregnant. And running with a huge belly when you already can't breathe and pee every 5 minutes? Not an easy task. I really admire the workout fanatics that actually stay fit while pregnant.

As soon as I was cleared by the doctor at 6 weeks postpartum I started to run again. It wasn't nearly as pathetic as my attempts to run when I first started in 2010, but it was pretty bad. But I worked hard, ran daily, and in a few weeks was back up to running 3 miles a day. I was ready to quit everyday, but Logan loved it. You can't argue with that.

At 5 months postpartum when I unexpectedly went back to working 50 hours per week, I made running a priority. I refused to give up everything I had worked for and loved in life, so every morning after a 12-hr shift I laced up my shoes, strapped Logan in our BOB, and off we went. My legs would feel like jello after being on my feet all night. I'm pretty sure sometimes I was running and sleeping at the same time. But I did it.

I did it for the first 3 weeks. And then exhaustion set in. I only get 3-4 hours of sleep between shifts (or really any day of the week), and it really started taking a toll on my body. I was tired, cranky, and hated life. The worst part was that after our morning runs I seemed to get a burst of energy and it took a few hours to cool off and calm down before I could go to sleep. I had to make a decision to keep me happy, and in turn keep my family happy. I quit running.

I never intended to completely quit, I just planned to stop running on days that I worked. There just weren't enough hours in the day. But on my days off we always had plans that ruined any plan of running in the morning or evening. When I found myself with 5 days off of work, we went out of town... where, again, I didn't run.

It hasn't really been that long since I've run... a few weeks, maybe... but it feels like an eternity. And when I haven't run for a while it is the most terrifying task in the world to me. Running can be fun, but not when you're out of shape and out of habit.

I'm off work for the next week (more on that later), and I'm hoping to restart my morning runs with Logan. He loves being outside, and that is one of the few ways I can tolerate it with the crazy hot summer we've had. I'm still hoping to run another half-marathon in the near future, and it's going to be a long 13.1 miles if I don't start training now.

I'll keep you updated.

I have been fortunate enough to have breastfed Logan since Day 1. The first few days in the hospital were a bit of a struggle, and involved lots of tears from both Logan and myself, but we both quickly learned how to do what nature intended.

Knowing that I would be going back to work one day, I tried to pump in between feedings when we first arrived home. But when your baby eats every hour and sleeps very little, this proved to be an impossible task. It caused stress and frustration, so I quickly gave up. He continued to nurse, and I continue to provide just enough milk to satisfy him.

When I returned to working 2 nights a week, I began pumping a few times throughout my night shift. It worked. Whatever he ate at home, I replaced in the morning. Never a drop more. But it was enough to keep my breastfeeding goal alive.

As 2 nights a week turned into 4, things began to get a little more difficult. And by a little more difficult, I mean impossible. I spent hours at work pumping (not an easy task as a nurse), and I cried each and every time I expressed only 2-3 ounces. We were only 5 months into my goal of breastfeeding for a year, and I saw it slowly coming to an end. My job was ruining everything.

Nevertheless, when I returned home each morning, I would learn that Logan had eaten exactly the amount I brought home. No formula. No supplements. But I still felt defeated.

I watched another girl at work pump 10+ ounces in one sitting each night at work. I read stories of milk pouring from others, and hefty backup filling the freezers of other moms. We were breastfeeding but barely holding on. Each and every day felt like a failure.

This continued until last weekend when we traveled to NC. I didn't bring any of our supply with us, so when it became time to feed Logan his usual morning cereal I needed to pump. Except that Logan was already starving, and I had an audience filling the room. Nick had snuck a small can of formula we received as a sample in the mail into our luggage (still swearing he had never given Logan even an ounce of formula during all of those frustrating months). I made an impulsive decision to make a bowl of cereal with formula, and pump after. Logan gobbled it down just like any other bowl. And it didn't kill him. He didn't even seem to notice. Even his poop stayed the same.

I continued this routine throughout the weekend... nursing in the morning and at night, making his cereal with formula, and pumping in between. As I began to accept my decision I also watched our supply grow bigger and bigger in the inlaws' freezer. Success!

Nick and I decided to continue this routine at home, and it has been one of the best decisions I've ever made. A huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. Ironically I feel like less of a failure this way, although Logan is no longer an exclusively breastfed baby. There's something to say for a stress-free, happy Mama. I continue to pump 2-3 times each night at work, but when I only return home with 5-8 ounces I never blink an eye. Surprisingly Logan has continued to eat only the amount I pump each night, without ever wanting more, but it is such a relief to finally have a backup supply for emergencies.

Breastfeeding is not easy. Breastfeeding as a full-time working Mama is even harder. I'm proud that we are still breastfeeding 6 months in, I feel confident that we can make it until 1 year, and I'm grateful that we have finally found a routine that works for us. Babies are stressful enough!

Thanks to an over abundance of hormones and many sleepless nights, I fought with Nick a lot when Logan was first born. I felt as if he had no idea how difficult each day at home was... I thought there was no way he could understand how frustrating and exhausting it was to entertain a baby all day and keep a house even remotely clean. I think this is a common issue among new parents. In fact, I even read a book about it (Babyproofing Your Marriage- I highly recommend it!). The working parent is usually envious of the relaxing, carefree life they imagine the one staying at home to have, while the stay-at-home parent dreams of adult interactions, and time alone and away from the house. Even when both parents work (as was our former situation), one parent usually feels like they are doing more of the work of maintaining the house and raising the baby.

Well, guess what? I have had many days of living in Nick's shoes as the full-time working parent, and I don't like it. I think back to all of the nagging I did for so long... he didn't do enough of the work around the house, he didn't play with Logan long enough before or after work, he didn't rush home fast enough to relieve me of the parenting duties... the list goes on and on. Now that I'm the working parent, and Nick is the stay-at-home Dad? I couldn't regret my complaints more. Yes, it is nice to be away from the house and only be responsible for myself. But my heart feels like it is ripped from my chest every night I have to leave Logan. I hate not having more time to spend holding him, or singing silly little songs, or taking walks around the lake. And any little bit of energy I have after a long 12-hour shift is spent soaking in every bit of my little man, not caring if the dishes are done or things are picked up around the house.

Every marriage would benefit from even one day of living in each other's shoes. From my own experience, the grass isn't always greener. I will say, though, that I haven't at all missed the responsibility of scrubbing the shower each week. I haven't cried over handing over the grocery shopping duties. And I definitely appreciate my uninterrupted showers, afternoon naps between shifts, and never reaching a level of frustration with Logan because I am so grateful for each moment I get to spend with him.

What's even worse about our situation is that Nick has truly embraced his new role, and is much better at it than I was! I constantly complained about never having enough time to clean or cook because Logan was so much work, but our house has remained spotless since Nick took over. He never complains about anything, and even finds time to repaint our entire downstairs or install a new brick patio for the grill. (Have I mentioned that since he took over our finances for the first time in 10 years, he has developed a plan to have us free of our credit card debt in 3.5 years? Apparently he's better at that, too.) He's pretty much amazing. While I hate that I'm no longer #1 in Logan's life, it melts my heart to see the love he has for his Daddy. It is such a relief to know that although I'm away from him 50+ hours each week, he is able to be with one of his parents 24/7.

This transition has been difficult, to say the least, but I am learning to let go and be thankful for all of the blessings in our lives.

Where do I even begin? It's been almost a month since my last post, and so much has changed.

Several weeks ago Nick was offered a position back in the world of contract security management (his specialty). It meant better, more flexible hours that would have allowed me to work more as needed, and spend more time as a family. His previous job did not allow us to spend any days at home together, and we found ourselves running our home like a business. I was not happy. This new position seemed to be the answer to our problems, and also offered a raise from Nick's current income. It was the perfect opportunity at the perfect time.

He accepted the offer, gave his 2 week notice to his current employer, and we made plans for the future. The morning before he was to start his new job, the manager unexpectedly called to resend the offer. To say we were shocked and angry would be an understatement.

Overnight I found myself working 50-60 hours a week (from 2 shifts/24 hrs per week). I went from being a semi-stay at home mom to a full-time working woman. I have nothing against those that choose to work outside of the home 40+ hours a week with small children, but it has never been what I wanted. I am grateful to have a job that allows me to work as needed, and also pays extremely well for what I do (PRN premium pay!), but the change has turned my world upside-down.

I have struggled with so many things in the last few weeks.... I am trying to adjust to seeing Logan less and less, losing my freedom and time with friends, battling low milk supply issues as a result of full-time pumping 5 days a week... the list goes on and on. My emotions have been all over the place, and unfortunately my marriage has suffered the most during this transition. Things are slowly on the mend as I accept this new lifestyle and learn to balance work and family, but it has been the hardest thing I've ever done.

More to come...

Jaclyn Armstrong

working mama: the night before

working mama: just breathe

working mama: 8-5

working mama: d-day

working mama: balance.

working mama: back home

working mama: I used to run

working mama: supply & demand

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