I did it.

I survived a full week of being back to work and taking the baby bear to daycare. Man, it was hard. Like your best friend moving away kind of hard. But I made it, and I actually learned a few important things this week.

Daycare is not the end of the world. I think Mia actually likes it. I hate it when people refer to it as letting someone else raise your child. It’s such bullshit. Matt and I will raise our child, but yes, the wonderful ladies at the carefully chosen daycare will take care of her while we go to work to be able to provide food, shelter, clothing, and an education for our baby girl. If we were independently wealthy or one of us had the option to stay home with Mia, would we? You bet your life we would. But we can’t right now and we’ve accepted it and if you don’t like it then you can shove it up your judgmental asses. (Sorry, this has been bothering me for a while.)

I like working. My job is interesting, fulfilling, and I work with some pretty wonderful people (some of whom had the same experience as me with their own children, and have been overwhelmingly supportive as I cried on their shoulders last week.) I like being an equal to my husband, providing good quality health insurance for my family, and having the means to one day take Mia to all the wonderful places her father and I have been. To show her the world through our eyes, and to allow her to form ideas about the world based on what she sees of it, not on what she has heard about.

Mia loves me. Being away from the girl has made me realize that she really does recognize and long for me. When I show up for our lunchtime nursing date, she nuzzles on my breast a little longer than usual, and she stares into my eyes instead of getting down to business like she sometimes did when we were at home together all the time. It fills my heart up so much; I can’t even put into words what it does to me.

I am, however, happy to be wrapping up this difficult week. Weekend, here we come.