I Must Have An Angel...

If I had a dollar every time someone asked me how I do what I do everyday, I wouldn’t have to work. All I can say is – I must have an angel. A friend asked me this morning exactly how my day unfolds so here it is: I wake up between 3:00 and 3:15am, I wake my baby girl to feed her and spend some time with her before I get ready for work. I throw a piece of bread in the toaster and go finish getting ready for work. By 4:30am I am mostly ready and I realize I still haven’t eaten so I grab the piece of cold, dry toast and am out of the door by 4:40 or 4:45. As I walk out the door each morning, my heart breaks, leaving Hailey is the hardest thing I have to do each day and it hasn’t gotten any easier. I must have an angel. I drive 20-30 minutes to the train station where I get on the train at 5:17am. I finish my makeup on the train and I try to catch some sleep on the train ride in. I arrive in Seattle at 5:55/6:00am and since it is so early I have no buses to take me to work from the train station, so I use the opportunity to get a workout in and jog the 1 ¼ mile into work. I pass numerous homeless people sleeping on the street, some who yell after me and beg me for money or call me names; somehow I make it into work safely. I must have an angel. I get to work usually 5 minutes late and feel guilty that I can’t make it in on time. I begin working before my butt hits the chair. While at work, I pump three times a day – this is an accomplishment since pumping has always been extremely painful for me. I pump at 8:30am, 12:30pm and 3:30pm and pray that I get enough to feed my precious girl for the next day. I have learned how to work while I pump – which is hilarious since I have a double pump so it takes some finesse. I work while pumping because again, I feel guilty that I come in 5 minutes late. I store my milk in the fridge at work and hope that nobody confuses it with the creamer. I eat the same thing everyday while at work: sugar free oatmeal, whole-wheat saltines, a Fiber One bar, a sandwich and veggies. I am relieved when 4:25pm rolls around and I can go. I feel guilty again that I leave 5 minutes early from work just so I can catch the train in time, which is why I work and pump through lunch and sometimes work on the train ride home. I catch the train at 4:45pm and I do everything I can to stay awake because I know if I close my eyes I will sleep through my stop. I get to the train station at 5:30pm and run to get in my car and pick up Hailey. Scott and I just miss each other because he starts school at the same time I get to the train station. He has to drop Hailey off with someone for 45 minutes until I can pick her up on the way home. Each week I struggle to find someone available to watch her and I would give anything to just be with her and not have to depend on anyone else to help me. I am in near tears when I pick up Hailey until I see the look of pure joy on her face when she sees me.

I put her in the car and head home. We get home at 6:00 or 6:15pm and I feed her the second I walk in the door because I am ready to explode. Then I try to cook dinner for myself while holding her and then eat while standing up and holding her because she won’t let me lay her down. She missed mommy. I do it without angst because I have missed her so much too. I must have an angel. I clean what I can in the house and then play with Hailey – I read to her, I sing to her, I do tummy time with her and for as long as she lets me - I just stare at her. Daddy gets home around 9:00pm and I am feeding the baby again. When she is done, I let Scott take her while I throw his dinner together. I do what I can to prep for the next day and give Hailey a bath. I feed her again at 10:30pm where we both fall asleep in the recliner and Scott has to wake me up to walk me to the room. I lay her down for bed and I crawl in bed and we say our prayers. As I start to fall asleep, I think to myself, I must have an angel – I am so blessed - because I actually have two, one who lays next to me every night and one in the playpen at the foot of our bed.