The day was better than expected, meaning I didn’t spent the entire time huddled under my desk in the fetal position, crying my eyes out. Those were only the first two hours.
The hardest moment came as I said goodbye before Charles drove him to my mama’s (his mom is on vacation this week). I closed the car door as Charlie gazed at me from inside, so sweet and chubby and perfect. How could I give this precious baby to someone else for EIGHT WHOLE HOURS? I went back into the house, sat on my bed, and bawled.
The day went quickly; 6,500 e-mail will do that. That’s not an exaggeration. My coworkers were welcoming, and luckily no one asked how I was feeling about being back. Pumping was…odd. I felt lost most of the day, like I was missing a limb. My mother sent text messages and pictures of Charlie, and we talked every few hours about his every coo.
I was home before my mama dropped him off and just paced by the garage, waiting. When she pulled up, I flung open the back door and burst into tears as soon as I saw him. He’d been sleeping, but opened his eyes at the sound of my voice and stared at me with bright eyes.
I’ve never missed anyone so much.