I remember going back to work after my first maternity leave like it was yesterday.
I was restless the day before. I had to dig into the darkest corner of my closet to find my work clothes. My dress pants and shirts were wrinkled and musty. I looked at their sizes and I knew I wouldn’t fit. I threw them back in my closet and grabbed a flowing dress that gave me ample room around my waist.
I barely slept that night. The morning was a blur of shakily applying mascara, packing my lunch, and pouring hot coffee into my stained thermos while constantly checking to see my daughter was safely rolling on the floor.
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As I hugged and kissed her goodbye before dropping her off at my parents' house, I could feel a mix of bittersweet emotions.
I was excited to go back to my job, but I also loved the time with my daughter.
On the drive to work, it felt oddly familiar. I hadn’t driven this route in almost a year. Every light and turn brought me back to my life before giving birth. I felt reassured.
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