Three more days until we leave for Montreal. Apart from the gigantic to-do list involving everything from packing and organizing to soil ordering and taxes, I'm struggling to deal with my last month on maternity leave. Decided to finally calculate how many weeks I have left last night and then spent the evening in tears after realizing I have one week less than I thought.
I know, one week. It's not the end of the world, logically. And yet. It feels like such an abrupt ending to my time at home. I expected to return from Montreal and have three weeks left before returning to work and now I find out I only have two.
Now this means I'll have to start weaning while we're away because two weeks to cut out 4-5 feeds daily is not enough. But I'm mostly just upset that this year is over already and I have to work at all. I'm not ready, although I don't know when I'll ever be ready. Logically I know going back to VIA is the best thing and the way I'll get to spend the most time with my baby. But the heart doesn't work logically and traveling away from him goes against every part of my being.
I remember asking moms' who had gone back on the train how they did it and never receiving a clear answer. Last night I realized there is no way to do it. You just do. You force one foot in front of the other and keep moving.
I will be a wreck. The only question is for how long. Will it last one trip, two or perhaps all season? Last night I bawled into Chris' shoulder all night and today was hardly better, moping around stuffing my face with chocolate, candy and potato wedges. I hope I can distance myself from all this worry and actually enjoy the time I have left with my babe.
I'll leave you with some yummy strawberry eating shots :)
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