I dropped my littlest son off at his first day of daycare last Wednesday, just two days shy of him turning five months old. All day I joined meetings and took calls and reviewed work, the whole time feeling like I was missing a limb. I joined my first call with red-rimmed eyes and stole looks at photos of my son on my phone in between meetings, feeling the prickle of my milk coming in. Could my clients and coworkers tell how unmoored I felt? Could they see me eyeing the clock and mentally calculating when I could pick Finn up for the day? Could they tell I had become yet another iteration of a mother?
Finn’s backpack is almost as big as he is
Mama Loves Her William 