The Ideal

When Peabody was born, that first night home was a doozy. D and I were both reeling from the lethal combination of the sleepless night before the induction, the sleepless night in the hospital, and (too much...) friend/family time. And then Peabody refused to be set down. My body hurt everywhere, and I was on a postpartum emotional roller coaster of sheer elation and sheer exhaustion. But it was ok. Because I had someone else there to hold the baby, someone else to change diapers, someone else to share the sheer burden of situation with me.  And because said someone wasn't my mom or dad, brother or sister, I didn't feel guilty about sharing that burden. I felt relieved and so very, very blessed.

I took off six weeks to be at home with my family when Peabody was born.  Those were six delightful, dreamy weeks that I was so lucky to have, and that I will remember forever as such a wonderful time. D and I spent countless long, luxurious hours staring at our baby, snapping endless pictures, exclaiming over her every expression, comparing notes on the best way to soothe her, the best way to attract her attention. We were able to take turns sleeping, showering, eating, playing with E, homeschooling, cleaning the house, doing laundry, so that nothing and no one was neglected.  We went together to doctor's visits and made the first anxiety-ridden visits to the grocery store with baby in tow. We tried out the stroller and the swing and the bouncy seat and the bassinets. We learned how to put her to sleep (that all-important goal of all parents...). We were able to figure out how this new little creature was going to fit into our lives, how we were going to handle any number of new situations. 

If we were a "traditional" family, and D had gone back to work after a week (if he had even felt comfortable taking that much time off), I can't imagine how much more we all would have suffered. Everything would have been ok, but it definitely would have been so different.

When I went back to work, one of my bosses was surprised that I looked so happy.  How could I not have been? I was well-rested, my children were safe at home, my house was clean, my pantry full, and I had spent six weeks falling even more in love with my wonderful husband, who I knew was perfectly capable of taking care of everything at home.

So the moral of the story is, if there is any way for both you and your partner to be at home with your new baby, do it. And do it for as long as possible. It's so worth it.