So bear with me, this blog post is a ramble of feelings and emotions. So if you’re looking for some sort of life changing advice or something like that, I’d give up now. If you’re willing to read an emotional, slightly over reactive post about a return to work then by all means, go ahead…
So, as some of you may know, last week I returned to work, after 11 months maternity leave. I was actually excited to go back, (please, don’t get me wrong, I love my son, and I was sad to leave him. I also cried the first time I left him at daycare, but stay at home mum life did not work for me). I needed some routine and normalcy in my life. Along with some adult interaction. I also work with a lot of close friends so I was excited to see them a bit more.
I wasn’t expecting for my first week to be so hard. Obviously, I was expecting for things to change. But I honestly felt like I was starting in a brand new job again. To be honest, maybe a brand new job would have been easier. The job itself isn’t too much different. It was more the dynamic of the work environment that I struggled with.
Just to paint you a bit of a picture… Before I left, I was pretty good at my job. I had been there longer than most people and I worked with a lot of friends. Now, I basically know no-one there, and all of my close friends, even some of my best friends, have moved into management and leadership roles. Now I’m happy for them. I really am. But it’s hard not to think what would have happened if I stayed? What would have happened if I went back to work earlier or took hardly any time off? Obviously these thoughts are closely followed with utter guilt at thinking that at all . I wouldn’t change the time I spent with Hudson for the world, but it doesn’t make it any less hard.
The changes at work made me sad and I also felt jealous of my friends. These are two less than desirable emotions that I really don’t want to have, especially over a job. I sat there on Thursday at my desk, feeling like I had no idea what I was doing, holding back tears, contemplating just going and finding another job (obviously an overreaction) and I felt sorry for myself for a full three days before I finally told myself to toughen up.
So here I am, writing this, getting it off my chest (isn’t that what blogs are for?). I took 11 months off, things have changed, but I’m sure it’ll get better eventually. I need to tell myself that I did this for my family and work isn’t the most important thing. I had my sad moment. I’ve talked about it out loud (does writing a blog post even count as talking out loud?). Anyway, now it’s time to move on and get on with it.
People reading this are probably like stop being whiny and just do your job. And you’re probably right. I’ll also use the excuse that maybe I’m getting my period or maybe I’m having chocolate withdrawals and that’s why I’m a moody bitch. But either way, feelings are feelings.
Maybe next week will be better. But for now, it’s time to focus on my child who is currently seeing how much fluff he can eat off of the floor. #Mumlife.
Does anyone else have any similar stories? Let me know.
Thanks for reading ✌️