Yesterday I became a working mum for the second time.
I have LOVED (almost) every moment of my maternity leave, had beautiful time with my girls and made lots of new friends – I feel sad that as we’ve decided our family is complete, this is the end of my last maternity leave. It’s something I won’t be doing again – aside from the fact that we feel so lucky and happy with our two girls – if I’m honest, I don’t think we could cope mentally with any more.
Over the last two mornings, as I’ve got ready for work, I’ve thought about how much better off we’ll be financially, materially and how much better off I’ll be for having some space away from the girls, to interact with adults, do something I’m good at, something I enjoy. Even just putting on heels and lipstick is a novelty.
But as I’ve skipped out of the door, pretty new stationary in hand, ready to say goodbye to the maternity chapter of my life, to face this new challenge that was more about me – I couldn’t help but feel the bitter pang of guilt.
Guilty for leaving them, but guiltier for wanting to. I know they will enjoy their time with the grandparents/at nursery. I know it’ll be good for them. I know this doesn’t make me a horrible person or a crap mum – it makes me human.
I remind myself that as well as for our bank balance and my sanity, I’m doing this for them.
Heres to actually having money again and being able to do things and go places.
Here’s to the bright, shining future ??