Dear Maternity Leave

Why are you slipping away? Slipping like sand through my fingers. I've had you stored for quite some time now and you've neither rushed nor flown by.

You've sat calmly by the wayside letting me figure this motherhood thing out.

At first you scared me because I did not know what to do.

I did not want to mess up.

You were patient.

I cried because I wanted to be a good mother. She cried to tell me how.

We listened to each other and she and I become rather acquainted - yes, rather comfortable together.

You've listened while I've learned her language.

You've watched me watch her in amazement.

You've lent much of my time to nursing.

You've let me gaze into her eyes.

You've let me take long afternoon naps with her.

You've let me learn to lay her down on her own.

Or sometimes just hold her endlessly.

You've let us be in no hurry to wake in the morning.

You've let us leisurely visit relatives.

You've let me recover from my germ phobia.

You've given me every second the better part of my life.

Every second the better part of my life.

Why are you slipping away?

Come back.

Let me hold her longer.

Let me sing to her.

Let me be the one to lay her down for afternoon naps.

Let me not miss her in the middle of the day.

Let me not wake crying in the middle of the night thinking of you.

Let me not long for more time.

Let me not yearn this very moment to free her from her bed and hold her tight only to have more.

More of her.

More moments.

Fleeting moments.

Where did the time go?

Why did it go so fast?

Did I appreciate you enough?

Did I savor every minute?

This hurts.

Come back.

*Picture of us five days into our life together ... five days of her outside my body.