Read my mind

That sound you hear, the sobbing, that’s me, that is. I start back at work on Monday and I still can’t get that sick, panicky feeling gone. The reason for the feeling is twofold.

1 – Zoe (obviously). We’ve done 4 sessions at nursery now as part of our settling-in period. I had spent a few weeks seeing childminders and hoping one would be lovely but no such luck. I thought the one-on-one care might benefit Zoe more but I came away from each interview with doubts in my mind big enough to stop me placing her there. So nursery it is. The nursery is lovely. It’s convenient, cheap (well, as cheap as childcare can be), well-stocked, the staff seem nice, food is all prepared fresh each morning, there’s lots of things right with it and, so far (touch wood) I’ve not found anything wrong with it.
At out first session, we stayed for 30 minutes, and I stayed with Zoe the whole time. We had a little play and look round the room and it gave me a chance to meet her carers and see where she’ll be and ask any questions I had. It all went OK. She didn’t scream the place down instantly, as she has been known to do, so I took that as a good sign. The second session was 40 minutes or so with her in the nursery room and me elsewhere in the building filling paperwork. This went OK too. She played happily for the first 20 minutes and slept for the 2nd 20 minutes, apparently going to sleep quite easily (which is more than she does for me). All happy still. The 3rd session was half an hour, again with me elsewhere completing the paperwork. This time I returned to find her in her pushchair as, apparently, she’d been unsettled and they thought something familiar might help. They were also supervising snack time so I appreciate they may not have had someone available to just focus on Zoe. The final session was on Monday, an hour with again me elsewhere (although this time there was no paperwork so I sat in the cafe at the centre reading for an hour, it was heavenly!). Still all good. She wouldn’t eat any banana during snack time (but it’s not her favourite fruit) and when I returned she was in the flat bouncy chair they have, looking sleepy. Apparently she’d gotten a little upset towards the end and had a cuddle with one carer and started to look a bit sleepy. But when I walked in, she was all smiles and wide awake again.
So it looks good for Monday. What concerns me is that she’s more than happy when I leave, it’s later on, when she realises I’m not back yet that she starts to get upset and going from 1 hour to 9.5 hours is a huge jump. I’m also worried she won’t eat or sleep properly for them but part of me thinks, that’s their problem. I’ve done everything I can, expressed milk, found a formula she’ll drink, tried to instill self-settling to sleep in her. And, all the while, I can’t help but feel sad for her. No-one’s going to sing silly songs with her name in to her, or fly her round the room like a plane, or rub their head into her tummy to make her laugh. I just hope she doesn’t hate me for it at a later date.

2 – Me. The second reason is me. I’m not ready to do this. I’m not ready to be with adults again and have to focus on something other than childcare. I’m not ready to be in a place where blowing a raspberry or squealing isn’t an acceptable answer. And I’m not ready to take my employer to industrial tribunal.
Because this is what I’m going back to. A year of union negotiations over the unequal pay have gotten us nowhere so now it’s grievance procedure and industrial tribunal to get our pay rise. I know it needs to be done, I can think of so many benefits for doing it (increase pay, pay my debt off sooner, drop to 3 days a week instead of 4), I just don’t have the mental energy for the fight. It’s not like I’m alone either, there’s 12 of us (I think) each raising a separate claim, it’s just I can see a long, hard slog in the offing and that’s not what I need right now.

I thought I might find solace and sympathy with the other NCT mums. We had a night out, just the mums, on Friday last week, which was wonderful. But I ended up feeling like a bad mum, a clingy mum. One told me that Zoe needed to go to nursery to gain her independence and she couldn’t be tied to the apron strings her whole life. She’s 6.5 months old, ffs! If she’s still living at home at 30, then you could say she needs to get out and be independent, but at 6 and a half months?! No. Another mother said that women with post-natal depression bring it on themselves by not getting out the house more. I was so staggered at that comment, I couldn’t reply. I’ve been lucky to avoid PND so far but I’ve been depressed and being told to get out the house more was not the answer. I could barely face getting out of bed. She then went on to say how she’d not spent a whole day inside with her son since he was born. Now, I’m not saying I stay in every day, but at least once a week, me and Zoe stay at home. There’s no way I’d get all my chores done otherwise. And on that day, we play and laugh together. I can’t help but wonder if the other mum No, that would be judgemental and isn’t that what I’m complaining about?

A mother’s guilt is, I’m discovering, endless. In the meantime, that sobbing that gets louder on Monday morning? That’s me again. Wish me luck.

Until there is a next time…

xx