what I write about
she has fallen and now she is awake
Yesterday was the first whole day I’ve spent away from Bunbun. We’ve spent multiple nights apart because we had to, the occasional morning or afternoon by choice, but never an entire day. I was fucking terrified. That fear and anxiety that turns to white out and makes me act in odd ways because I just cannot bring the fear to the front. It just underlays everything else and I begin to cry because I listened to a sad song, or I get irrationally angry at the washing up, or I simply have to reorganise my data.
So when I woke up and got ready it was almost a relief. It’s here it’s happening and no stopping it now. I fed her and got up. I had breakfast (by myself, making only my own food) and fed her again and left. I walked in and people said hello and hugged and enquired and cooed at pictures on my phone. I sat down amongst almost all of my coworkers and we planned for the upcoming year and talked about teamwork and mindfulness and changing your attitude. I found my mind was still as useful as it ever was, even as my breasts tingled and I realised I hadn’t packed breast pads. I pumped in the car and only had a letdown listening to Bunbun growl into the phone when I checked in at lunch. I missed my afternoon pumping session too taken with the new ideas. I found I’ve lost my knack for public speaking. I lost my track of thought and my desire to be there as my breasts began to ache with the need to see my baby. I drove home, my need riding me, only to find she was still asleep (apparently her 1400/1500 nap only happened at 1700 after walking for a while). I pumped and waited and eventually she woke again.
We settled back into our routine and I breathed a sigh of relief. We were fine. We were okay. We survived. She took barely any milk while I was gone, but I made more than enough. She was happy, I was happy, Wolfman was happy.
We can do this.