Of all the weeks to get sick, it had to be the week I was starting back at work (I’d just had nine months off on maternity leave).
By the time my first shift came around my head felt as heavy as a brick with congestion, I was living in fog land and pseudoephedrine just wasn’t an option (breastfeeding Mum over here).
Panadol, copious amounts of coffee, and a dose of suck it up had to do!
Fast forward to my first shift back, I was still feeling like I’d had better days in the health department but I was on the improve.
What It Was Like Going Back
My daughter came bouncing home from Kindy in a cheery mood, we did the standard cuddle, ‘tell me about your day’ and then the gluten free, dairy free, all things free except copious amounts of sugar free biscuits were spotted on the bench and of course looking like Oreos (about the only thing that resembled the biscuit) she wanted one.
I said ‘No’ (despite tasting like cardboard, I didn’t want to risk cramping and bloating during my night shift and I needed something sweet with my midnight cuppa) and this triggered one of her better tantrums I’ve seen of late.
I cooked dinner, we ate dinner, she showered and went to bed all while she was having her meltdown of meltdowns.
Needless to say it was not the funnest of nights getting ready for work.
Deep down it was never about the biscuits, it was about me going to work and my little human was understandably feeling a bit anxious. She did calm down eventually and was sound asleep by the time I left.
Now it’s only fair to give my husband a mention in the going back to work department.
A New Normal
My 10 month old baby is still breastfed but we’d been trying to prepare her for my night duty absence with my husband giving her a bottle at around 10pm.
She’d been begrudgingly taking it with not too much fuss, leading us into a false sense of confidence, as my husband discovered.
All was going well until the dream feed turned into a fully awake feed and my stubborn bub refused to take it.
I’m hoping that there’s some slight exaggeration when my husband told me she was awake for three hours, crawling around the house saying ‘Mum Mum’ on repeat before finally passing out at 1am and sleeping through until a reasonable 6am, however going without milk for a good 12 hours.
When I got home after work my eldest girl was in the shower, my baby was crawling around happily (her hunger had gotten the better of her and she’d eaten her breakfast) my husband was getting organized for the day ahead.
Needless to say they all survived and so did I.