Life Beyond Mama

Over six months ago, I gave up my baby boy during the day to a daycare just around the corner from work, so I could return to my life as a career woman. Career mama, now. How strange.

While Tycho had no anxiety over what was going on, I was wracked with fear: Fear of the unknown, of these caretakers who were going to enjoy my son for the day, that he would do nothing but cry all day.

In the end, I was the one doing the crying, right outside his door after I gave him a final kiss goodbye. I was sure not to be in front of the door’s window so Tycho would be shielded from my tears, but just about everyone else knew I was dropping off for the first time. They knew those tears, they had once lived those tears.

When I got to work, awesome attorney-boss asked how I was managing. I honestly said that I missed him, but it felt good to be back (seriously, it did). But I left out the part when I cried in the car, and on the phone with my husband, and maybe a couple times in the bathroom while at work. I figured he was there twice already, so he knew and expected that drill. I didn’t need to rehash it.

Daycare made his first day a breeze. I received texts and photos throughout the day, little updates that assured me that he was fine. Happy, even. It helped the almost uncontrollable need to bolt out the door and run in to daycare.

It sucked, but it got better. A lot better.

I thought about Tycho all day, then as the weeks went by, I found myself more and more engrossed in my work and checking the cameras less and less. While many were happy to see me get my independence back and learn to separate myself from my son, which we both needed (after all, I see the merits of getting him socialized and used to other trustworthy adults), I was more surprised with myself for refusing to give in to that need to be with him.

Eventually, I came to the point where I was happy to drop him off, eager to see his face break out into a huge smile as his favorite daycare provider, Ms. Heidi, takes him from my arms and playfully asks, “You wanna go play, Twouble?” He’d squeal a bit, start gabbing away, and as he was put down, start to explore his surroundings and play with toys that have become familiar over the months. I’m proud to say that he’s eager to go, too.

But today starts the process all over again. Complete with tears brimming over my eyelashes.

This morning, as I went to take off my shoes before walking into the Infant 1 room, I noticed that his cubbyhole was already taken over with some other baby’s diapers, wipes, and food for the day. His name? Replaced. His picture? Sat on the counter across the room. Ms. Heidi broke the news as soon as I walked in: “He’s not even on my roster anymore!”

Today, Tycho graduates to the Infant 2 room.

I know the ladies in that room. They’re right next door, and at the end of the day when the kids start to disperse with their parents, they often come to Infant 1 with the remaining kids and hang out until they’ve all left. They’re wonderful providers, and I know he’ll be just as cared for and loved as he was in Infant 1.

So why do I keep asking these questions...
Will they know his eating patterns?
Will he sleep okay?
How will he get along with the other kids?
What if he misses Ms. Heidi?
What if he misses me? All over again?

But I know. I just know. His smile won’t disappear, his sense of adventure will not abate. He’ll army-crawl with confidence around his new space and will blossom among kids who are months older than him. Shit, maybe he’ll even start walking soon with all that encouragement! I just had to build that same confidence, as I go through yet another hurdle and realize yet again that he’s not only happy, he’s thriving.

Self-reflection has been a big theme since becoming a mother, more so than I could ever have imagined. I often ask myself why this and other parts are so difficult, what I could have done to make it better. And he’s not even ten months old yet! There are still so many years ahead of me where I can ask myself, “How can I make this the best situation for him... and myself?” Just the thought that this is the beginning is a bit daunting.

I’ve realized that this is not only about Tycho’s personal growth, but about how I respond to it and turn each of these experiences into a learning one. While there are millions of ways to raise a child, there are just as many millions of ways to raise a mother, and as I teach him more about independence, respect, kindness, confidence, intelligence, and other facts of life, I know I must learn the same.

What a challenge to ask of us as parents! No matter how old our children are when they go to daycare or to school, we’re asked to go beyond ourselves so they may learn to find themselves. They have to learn about their own independence and sense of self, which can only be when we learn to let go.

As Tycho enters Infant 2 today, I’m finding it hard to realize that my little boy is growing up, moving on, and thriving all the time.

He’ll be fine. Great, even.

And so will I.