St. Gianna

Technically, I have been a "working mother" ever since we were called to Birthmother's home state the day Elijah was born.  But I have been blessed to have 12 weeks to dedicate solely to taking care of, getting to know, and loving my child.  I was free of the cares that come with being a real working mother.

But all that ends tonight.  My 12 weeks are over and I really begin my new life as a working mom.  At 10 o'clock tonight, I will have to kiss my son goodbye and go earn money to help support our family.  I've been told the first month or so of being back at work is particularly gut-wrenching.

But there is also a lot to be grateful and joyful for as well.  I am blessed to have a  family to help support.  I am blessed to have a job at which I can earn money to do so.

I think it's truer to my nature.  I have loved every day of these last 12 weeks, but I've also been bored, and lonely, and tired of being in the same place all the time.  I think deep down, some part of me acknowledges that I couldn't be a stay-at-home mom.  I have a great deal of respect for women who are called to that kind of life, but I do not believe I am one of them.

For the next two weeks, I will be gone while my son sleeps.  Then I will spend my days praying for him to take nice long naps, so that I can too.  After that we change shifts and I switch to working 3 to 11 pm, which I think will be better in the long run.  The more I think about it, the more I realize I may have to give up my beloved third shifts and take only seconds and firsts (when they are available), at least until Elijah is in school. 

So pray for us this week, please.  Pray that Elijah will sleep well for Nathan at nights and then take nice naps for me during the days.  Please pray that I don't take being back at work and away from my son too badly.

St. Gianna, patron saint of working mothers, please pray for us.

St. Joseph, pray for us.

Panic!

Elijah has recently moved out of our room and into the nursery, which is all of like six steps across the hall from our room.  His bedtime is around 8 pm.  We have a specialized routine: last bottle, diaper change, pajamas, book, cuddles, and bed.  He wakes up for bottles at 4:30 or 5 and then again at 6:30 or 7.

Last night, we went through our little bed time dance.  Mommy read the book while Daddy snuggled the baby and then set him in the crib.  We turned off the light, left the room and went to have dinner.  We checked on him before we went to bed and then it was lights out.

The next time I looked at the clock was when Nathan's alarm went off at 6:45 this morning.  I realized right after I opened my eyes that I hadn't gotten up that night.  I looked at Nathan and said "Did you wake up with him?"

"No."  I jumped out of bed and ran the six steps to the door.  Peeking inside, I saw Little Man, stretching in his sleep.

He had wiggled out of his swaddler a little bit and moved toward the end of the crib, which made me afraid we had missed his crying.  There was a thunderstorm last night and the windows in our room rattle horribly in the wind; it could have happened.

Nathan assured me we didn't and I tried to go back to sleep.  15 minutes later an insistent little whine came over the baby monitor.

"There's no way we would have missed that," I said, and went to get our little sleeper out of his crib.