There are many good things about going back to work, namely that Skyler will have a better life in the long run. But, since she has been born I have only been away from her the four nights in the hospital, for an hour long trip to the dentist, and the 6 hour tour when my purse was stolen. I shower with her, I nap with her, I sleep with her next to me at night. She and I are always, always together.
Last week I sat down to type up a list of things I know about her to pass on the the folks at daycare. She is only five and 3/4 months old, but there is a world to know about her. The sound she makes when she has peed, the way she rubs her eyes when she is tired. the way she likes to be sung to and danced with... I want to write it down, to help her be more comfortable. But, every time I try I can't. They are my hard-earned secrets. The mystery of Puddy Woo in a long list. I. just. can't. do. it.
I cannot admit that she is really going to day care. Care for the day. A day that starts with me and ends with me but has some other faceless, nameless accented women as it's creamy center.
I have had too many people comment on "how good it will be for her to go to daycare." Maybe those people want me to feel better or maybe they are insensitive assholes who don't realize they are implying that someone could do better for my child than I can. Either way, I just want to yell, "FUCK OFF. YOU DON'T GET IT."
She's my kid. Mine. And, no one, not even Stewart can understand how intensely painful it is for me to leave her to be raised by a stranger. In no uncertain terms it will be the very hardest thing I have done in my entire life. Most times in life the hard thing and the right thing are one in the same, it doesn't make it easier.
I feel like the biggest pile of dog crap that next Monday when she wakes up from her first, second and third nap I will not be the one to pick her up and hold her. I worry she will feel scared and sad and abandoned by the only person she knows is always there. I worry that she doesn't know how to sleep by herself because she has never done it. I worry that she will be lonely. I worry that I cannot admit how worried I am and that I cry daily alone. I worry she will never forgive me and that I may be not able to forgive myself.
When I hug her I apologize to her over and over for letting her down. I wish I could do better. I wish I had another option. I wish the fucking flat would sell. I wish we moved by my Mom so she could take care of her. I wish a million things on a million pennies dropped into a million fountains.
But, every day I wake up and I am a day closer. This week we need to go to the day care center twice. Once so I can see it and stay and play with her there for an hour. And, once we will leave her there for an hour on her own and wait in the "parents lounge."
I pray I can contain myself and not make it worse for her. Because that is what it all comes down to...what is best for her. As cliche as it is, that tiny person means everything to me.
