You Asked For It...

...so here it is:  Isabella's first day at her day home.

This was last Wednesday.  To facilitate dropping off and picking up Isabella, Rob and I bought a beater a couple weeks ago.  That way if I have to work late or too early or whatever, Isabella can still be picked up.  We only have one car seat, though, so at first whoever dropped her off would then drop off the car seat at the house, so whoever was picking her up could use it (we have a better system now).

So on the Wednesday in question, Rob dropped Isabella off at Monika's house before going to school since I had to work early.  I was a wreck at work.  Isabella is very... I don't know the right word.  She loves her parents, and has a hard time getting used to anyone else.  The few times we've left her with 'strangers' (to her), though, she's cried for a few minutes, then gotten down to the business of playing and/or making a mess.  So while I was nervous about how her first day would go, I was mostly confident that it would work out.

It didn't.

I had to come home from work before picking up Isabella so I could grab the car seat.  Rob was home already, and told me that she was playing happily when he snuck out.  Good, I thought.  However, when I pulled up in front of Monika's house, even from across the street I could hear Isabella crying.  When she saw me, she ran across the room with her arms held out so I could hold her.  It took a long time for her to calm down enough to stop sobbing.  Her face was red and blotchy, her breath came in ragged gasps.  While I cradled my little girl, glad to have her with me again, Monika told me about her day.  It turns out that as soon as Rob left and Isabella discovered that neither of her parents were there with her, she freaked out.  She neither slept nor ate the whole day.  Just cried.  And cried.  And cried.  She tried to push Monika away whenever she came near enough.  I find Monika to be a very nice lady, and good with children, but for some unfathomable reason Isabella has taken an intense dislike to her.

Isabella clung to me for the rest of the evening (indeed, she hasn't stopped clinging yet, I nearly always need to be holding her now).  And while she clung, she ate.  And ate.  And ate.  It turns out that not eating for nine hours leaves her ravenously hungry.  She has a hard time sleeping now, too.

The next two days were more of the same.  I had had hopes that she would get used to it, maybe even enjoy playing with the other kids.  Now?  I don't know.  Friday morning as we walked up the steps to Monika's house, Isabella pulled back and clung to my leg.  I picked her up and continued on, and when the door opened, the waterworks started.  She held tight to me, her head buried in my shoulder, saying "no no no" over and over again.  When I put her down, ruthlessly pulling her little arms away from my neck, she howled like I had ripped her heart out.  I know I had mine.  I drove around the corner so she couldn't see me, but then had to pull over so I wouldn't be a hazard to the other cars on the road.  It was awful.  I've decided Rob will have to drop her off from now on; I can't go through that again.

So now I'm in a difficult place.  Ideally, Isabella will get over her aversion to Monika and I can continue working full time without the guilt of emotionally traumatising my child.  It was suggested to continue with Monika for another two weeks, but I don't think I could make it more than one.  So if the situation does not significantly improve in the next week, we'll look at other day homes.  Someone, maybe, will be similar enough to me that Isabella will be a little more comfortable there.  If not, I may have to only work in the evenings when Rob is at home, or not work at all. 

Whatever happens, I trust that we will find a way to make it work.  God will provide a way for us to eat and our child to be happy, if we are willing.

The Misunderstanding

Six days from now is Isabella's first day at a day home.  As I said before, I'm trying not to think about it.  However, when I got home from work yesterday Rob said "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"  Like an idiot, I opted for the bad news.  It turns out that Monika, our day home lady, had called and said "she hadn't heard from us" and had therefore filled Isabella's spot at her home.  That was it.  I was confused, outraged, and slightly panicked.  I have been in regular contact with Monika's dayhome agent, have signed the contract even, so how in the world could Monika think I wasn't coming?  So there we were, six days from needing a day home, five of which we would be out of province.  That left us a single day to find a new dayhome and get the papers signed.  Maybe it's possible, maybe it's not, I don't know.  But it would have been incredibly stressful.

My day at work had been insanely busy.  So to hear this on arriving home... I needed to yell at somebody.  I called the dayhome agency, struggling to keep my voice even as I asked what the heck was happening.  Marlene, with whom I had signed the papers, was just as confused as I was.  Apparently she had talked to Monika only the day before and everything was all set to go.

To shorten a story that is starting to get a little long-winded, Marlene called Monika to find out what was going on.  It turns out it was all a misunderstanding.  Monika had gotten a call from someone needing temporary care, and she thought she had to take this other child in place of Isabella.

So I still have a day home.  No need to rush frantically around today trying to get something else arranged. But while everything may be straightened out now, I'm still left feeling rather put out.  Maybe I was secretly hoping for the day home to fall through so I'd have no choice but to stay home.  Or maybe I've just been so stressed out lately (which I have) that I need the release of yelling at someone.

I am really looking forward to this long weekend away.  A few days with family sounds perfect.

I've Made up My Mind

I had been in agony for weeks. How could I go back to work full time and leave my little girl? But how could I stay home and be the cause of mountains of debt? It was a horrible decision; it kept me up at night, distracted me during the day. I talked to everyone- family, friends, complete strangers- looking for advice. Everyone was very nice, but in the end it came down to this: I was the only one who could make the final decision. Not my family, not my friends, and certainly not random strangers.

I got my answer while listening to General Conference Sunday afternoon. None of the speakers said "Sarah, stay home with your child" or "Sarah, it's your duty to support your husband- get back to work". But every single speaker that session spoke about the importance of the family, of teaching and loving one's children. My answer came to me then. It is my responsibility (and Rob's) to raise my children. To teach them, love them, raise them to be good people. It's not my family's job, nor my friend's, and certainly not random stranger's. I kept in mind, though, that we are counselled to stay out of debt. Impossible in this situation, but I will help out as much as I can.

So, I'm working part time now. So is Rob. Where our schedules overlap, Isabella will be at the dayhome, but hopefully that won't be too frequently. The dayhome ladies I've met are nice, and I think being with them a little will help Isabella. Will help her to get over her stranger anxiety, teach her how to play with other kids, have her experience new things. Yes, in small doses, I'm okay with her being in a dayhome.

A pleasant side-effect of Rob watching Isabella while I'm at work is that he seems to like her so much more. He has always loved her, of course, but he didn't really know her that well. Now they're friends, buddies, playing and laughing together as she follows him around the house. Also, and bestly, Isabella is completely overjoyed to see me when I get home. Her face breaks out in a huge smile, and she crawls over to me as fast as she can. She's a lot more cuddly with me, content to sit on my lap and play quietly just so we can be together. It's wonderful.

I was meant to be a mother. It's the best thing in the world.

Is it Worth it?

Almost exactly one year ago I started my maternity leave. My baby was due in two weeks, and working full time was exhausting. I needed the time to rest, to prepare. And, I thought, was was two weeks? I wouldn't even feel the difference at the end of my mat leave year. However, Isabella did not cooperate. She didn't want to come out into the world. My due date neared, came, passed. Day after day I waited, spending an hour of each at the hospital being tested to ensure my placenta wasn't degrading and the baby was still healthy. Finally, thirteen days late, Isabella was born. What can compare to becoming a mother? I've spent nearly every moment of the eleven months since then with her. Playing, teaching, laughing, adoring. The longest I've been away from her was for an hour, when I had a dentist appointment.

It has been the best time of my life, and now it's over. In two days I go back to work. I love my job, but it's nothing compared to how I feel about my daughter. The last few weeks have been very stressful for me. I lie awake at night, worrying about how Isabella will handle being with a stranger all day (her stranger anxiety has not lessened at all), worrying about how I will handle being away from her all day. Worrying about mundane details like how she'll get to her dayhome when I start work before it opens and we only have one car - will Rob take her by bus? What about naps? One dayhome lady said, very firmly, that naps are from 1-3. But Isabella doesn't sleep then. She takes her nap in the morning. Will she be able to sleep the ruckus of other children playing? And most heart-wrenchingly: will she like the dayhome lady better than me after a while? Will she think they dayhome is her realy family? That I am merely the woman who puts her to bed at night?

I don't know if I can do this.

I wish that money weren't an issue, that Rob was done school and had a great job so I could stay home and do what I really love. Knowing how I feel, Rob says I should only work part time, but if I did that we wouldn't be able to make ends meet. And when I go on mat leave next time I'll be bringing in even less. At that rate, by the time Rob is done school we'll we swallowed up in an impossibly large amount of debt.

What is more important? Being with my daughter now, but struggling financially for years and years to come? Or going back to work, letting her be raised by a stranger, breaking my heart, but probably no other ill side effects.

Help, please!

Me and my darling Isabella July 2009