Baby Blues: Spending Time Away From My Baby Makes Me Feel Healthier
I look back and compare that to this moment. My daughterâ€™s at daycare. My husband, who has the day off, is playing a video game in the other room while a jungle track plays quietly in the background. Iâ€™m typing, drinking coffee, taking my time. I have eight sweet hours to use however I like.
And Iâ€™ll have eight hours tomorrow, too. I just canâ€™t believe how quickly Iâ€™ve adjusted to spending all of this time away from my daughter. And whatâ€™s crazier, and I wish there was a written form of a whisper because Iâ€™d be doing it right now, I wouldnâ€™t mind having even a littleÂ moreÂ time away from her.
A few times, Iâ€™ve gone to pick her up and Iâ€™ve felt a sense of dread on the ride home.Â NowÂ what? It was so nice not having to make all of her meals, clean everything up, change diapers, keep her entertained, tote her around in my arms to keep her from feeling ignored, count the hours until Shaun gets home. Suddenly, even when my husbandâ€™s at home to help, after Iâ€™ve spent my entire day in sweet solitude, I dread the remaining four or five hours of my day.
Maybe Iâ€™m so addicted to my isolation because Iâ€™m making up for lost time. Maybe my eight hours alone each day is the only antidote for that year and a half of being glued to my baby. Maybe the road to recovery from mama burnout is a long, long, long one.
Or maybe this is my depression talking, and Iâ€™m giving in to the illness by living in a bubble. Iâ€™m not just enjoying the separation from my daughterâ€”Iâ€™m enjoying separation from the adults in my life, too. I rarely call good friends anymore. I rarely stop by to see family. Itâ€™s actually been a couple of months since Iâ€™ve seen my grandparents, who I used to visit (baby in tow) every Friday.
But Iâ€™m inclined to believe that, whether it germinates from a healthy place or not, alone time is exactly what I need right now. You may try to convince me otherwise, but as long as I donâ€™t take up smoking again or start drinking martinis at noon, I donâ€™t see any real harm in this whole reclusive thing.