Little Foot went to bed quite early tonight. As always, she has would still wake up and cry on and off.
Tonight, I remark to Daddy Long how her hair smells like biscuits… the oh – so – familiar smell of my baby… I can’t help but smell a few more times.
Earlier today, I went back to my workplace to have a quick chat with my new supervisor. Time has flown by. Five weeks left to my return to work. Little Foot will be almost 11 months by then.
Even as I start preparing myself to return, I know even at the 11th hour, we will not be ready. Which mother is ever ready really?
Thinking of how she will keep waiting for me to come home for her next feed and I fail to appear at the door is heart-wrenching already. :'(:'(:'(
A part of me don’t want to stop latching because time is running out. Another part of me (the rational one) tells me I should at least get her used to regularly using the milk bottle again in the day time.
Sighhh…. I will really miss my biscuit-smell baby when I am back at work.
Separation anxiety is real. And it applies to mum and baby equally. Where has all the time gone??
I will miss all the lame “we are so bored at home, let’s take a wefie” moments with her.
Yet even at such low moments, I must remind myself that I had 6 months more than most of my mummy friends to spend with my little one. I hope the bond we’ve built in this time will last us a lifetime. I really hope so.