After his morning nap, I took Bo back to daycare for day two. This was his first day without me staying with him. “Come back in two hours, unless we call you sooner,” one teacher said as she walked off with my baby.
I felt the lump in my throat. Determined not to break down in the daycare centre, I headed for the door. One of the administrators caught me on the way out. She gave me a sympathetic smile. I told her how hard it was for me to leave him. She said that, in her experience, it’s often the parents who have struggled with infertility or loss that have a harder time leaving their baby at daycare.
This, of course, is a major generalization. But it also feels a bit true for me. I seem to feel the need to hold on to Bo just a little bit tighter. Maybe because he’s our rainbow baby, conceived after a loss. Or perhaps it’s just that he’s our last child and I know I won’t have any more time at home with a baby in the future. Either way, it helped to know I wasn’t alone in my sadness.
With tears in my eyes, I walked back home. I did some little tasks to distract myself – laundry, cleaning out some cupboards, signing Littleman up for t-ball – while I waited for the two hours to be up. Then the phone rang. I jumped. It’s the daycare! Bo had enough for one day.
I practically ran down the street and burst through the daycare door. There he was, crying in a teacher’s arms. He reached for me and stopped crying immediately. Together again.
We’ll try again tomorrow, because I know we have to, but it’s going to be hard. I’m sure there will be more tears (possibly from both of us!) but hopefully each day will get a little easier.