Back Home (And oh-so happy to be so.)

One of the reigning rules of new motherhood is this: do not wake the baby up. Ask anyone. Once that baby is napping or in a deep sleep at night there is not a cable guy, UPS delivery man, or pest control specialist that will be forgiven.

And that's a testament to how much you can miss a baby after just two incredibly fast days away. I got home last night from the airport around 9:30 and tip-toed upstairs to open Adelyn's door. The door always creaks. I know it's a surefire way to stir her out of a REM cycle, but I did it anyway. And I stretched over her crib and kissed her eyelid, which immediately fluttered open. She cooed and reached for me, and I held my hand out and let her grip my pinky. And slowly, quietly, I eased out of the room. Of course she fussed for another ten minutes before falling back asleep. I just couldn't help myself, though. And the poor girl has just now taken her first real nap of the day, because I can't stop kissing her little eyelids and nose and cheeks after I put her into the crib.

The good news is it that it feels so incredible, warm, and comforting to be back in your home under your family's roof even after just a short time away. The bad news is I leave again tomorrow evening for a three day training to kick off my new job.

My mother-in-law said it best when I called her an hour ago to thank her for all of her help with Adelyn. As much as I dread it now, on Friday I'll be back home and life will resume it's normal, never-ceasing cycle of diapers, interrupted sleep, rushed dinners and force-feeding a baby bananas. (It will also resume it's never-ceasing cycle of watching and admiring the happiest, funniest baby learning more and more about the world around her. That, right there, is the hard part about going away.) And then, like she said, I'll be back to thinking how nice it would be to have three days to myself in a hotel with provided meals.

But for now all I can think is that leaving your family--and I know I sound crazy here because it's such a miniscule amount of time--is not an easy thing to do. It's not an easy thing to do in the morning on your way to work, dropping him or her off at day-care or with a babysitter. It's not an easy thing to do when you're just going on a date with your husband or with friends, just for a few hours. That's not to say it's not necessary and enjoyable, but it's not easy. As a mother it's never, ever done without careful thought. It's never done without just an ounce of sadness, even if the feeling of absence if fleeting. Being a mother is possibly my favorite thing I have ever done. And it's also the heaviest. Living is never done now without another life weighing every option.

This all really hit me this weekend in New York, visiting with my incredibly successful sister. She is older than me, and has always been the brains of the family. She works as a lawyer at one of the best firms in New York City, rising to the top while many of her colleagues are desperately trying to find a way to stay in the game. She works her butt off and even the thought of working her hours makes me tired. She has a gold name-plate on her office door, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire New York skyline. She isn't even thirty and she has success that most people will never reach, no matter how hard they try. I couldn't be prouder of her.

I am a recent college graduate, who worked for a short time as a paid professional in her chosen field before getting pregnant and rethinking her entire life plan. I excelled in college, was editor in chief of my college newspaper, got national accolades for my reporting and even interned and was published in a Pulitzer-prize winning newspaper. I never thought I'd have a gold nameplate on an office door overlooking New York City, but I did always think I'd be a success. I'm not the most confident girl in most areas of my life. Except maybe for that one.

And now it's all about Adelyn. And for now that is all the success I can handle, that amazingly healthy, joyful, little girl. She is already a success. The rest will be figured out around what's best for her.

The job I'm starting next week is only the tiniest stepping stone toward where I hope to be later in life. But it is a job that allows me to work from home with Adelyn two days a week. It allows a rare flexibility as a new mother, and for that I know how lucky I am.

Living is never done now without another life weighing every option.