Feels like the end of a very big chapter...

Tomorrow marks the end of a very bitter sweet chapter in mine and my munchkin's life so far. Every day since she was born, I've been there with her, fed her her bottles, tried to get her to eat, played with her, changed her nappies and so on. But from tomorrow, for 4 days a week, it won't be me struggling to get her to drink, coaxing her to eat something, encouraging her to stand unaided or laughing at her as she pretends to sleep on the coffee table or tries to brush her hair with the TV remote... because I'll be leaving her with my mum. I'm not back at work yet but to ease her (and more so me) into the new routine I'm dropping her off at mums and then not coming back until gone 6pm. 

Bitter sweet is so fitting for how I feel about leaving her all day. Bitter because I know I'm going to miss her like crazy. Bitter because I'm ultimately bound to miss her (very impending) first steps. Bitter because I'm going to miss our early morning post breakfast snuggles sitting on the floor with her dummy watching Tilly and friends and Tweenies on TV. Bitter because I'm not there to take over if Mum can't get her to finish her bottle when she's having a fussy day. But sweet because there's a certain amount of relief handing over the struggles of her feeds (even after an entire year, I still dread every bottle and meal time, something I think has been conditioned into me from 12 months of relentless anxiety and stress). Sweet because I get two weeks of "me" time before I go back go work. Sweet because I feel like for the first time in a year, I feel a little bit more like me... someone I lost after months and months of counting oz of milk and minutes until the next attempt. 

I don't recognise the person I've become since I've had her, and that's not in a good way. Maybe if I'd had a baby with no reflux and no feeding issues it'd be different. I'd be different. But it's definitely  taken its toll on me and changed me. It's like I'm waking up from a haze of extreme highs and lows. I genuinely believe if munchkin didn't have all the issues she'd had, having a baby would have been a breeze. Take away the anxiety of trying to dream feed a baby for 9 months and she'd be the perfect child. She sleeps well, no fuss with teething. She plays happily on her own. Isn't clingy. Goes to anyone. Barely cries ever. Always happy. She really is so easy to look after.... if she drank and ate. It's just that one HUGE dark cloud that I feel casts a shadow over everything else. I feel like it tainted our first year together to the point that I was so depressed and stressed that I genuinely didn't.... no COULDN'T enjoy the majority of her first year.

It's the end of a very VERY bitter and very VERY sweet year. 

So tomorrow I'll be dropping her off, with her milk bottles and her books and change bag, and I'll be free to do whatever I like for the next 10 hours. I'll probably spend it cleaning. And wondering if I should text mum to see if she drank her milk. I guess even without her with me that worry will always be there!

*sigh* think I might just go and look in on my sleeping munchkin right now. I miss her already......