I thought going back to work would be a terrible experience. But it turned out to be OK.
Leaving in the morning was a little tough. But I had been up a couple of hours already so didn’t have to combat waking up and being emotionally distraught.
I was armed with some photos for my desk so that helped as well. Mainly, though, just having got over the whole emotional rollercoaster and being back to normal helped the most.
A lot of people ask me questions. The answers of the main ones are:
- yes, it’s the best thing ever;
- I was at all of the birth and some of it was a little scary but mainly I was just the moral support for the one doing the amazing thing;
- so much it feels like I might burst from how much I love him;
- the tiredness was the worst bit.
People also ask if I am glad to be back at work in that sarcastic way everyone asks anyone who has been off work get asked if they have missed work. No, no-one has missed work. Maybe people who do their ideal job – or have a really, really shitty home life (like that Austrian cellar woman) miss work.
But it turns out that not being in work for three weeks at a time when I was already very busy has produced such a massive amount of work that I am that busy that I have no time to overthink not being at home with Woodrow. So, I didn’t really miss him that much*.
*I ran up the stairs in my building to back to him just a few seconds earlier – that kind of not missing him. And had he missed me? He said NOTHING about missing me.