I once spent my days in a cubicle neighborhood in the Seattle office of an international consulting firm. It was a good gig with challenging, if not always interesting, work and a clear path for advancement. Naturally, when I got pregnant I planned to keep working indefinitely. However, once my little bundle of joy and regurgitated breast milk arrived, he disrupted my carefully laid plans. The not-so-thrilling parts of my job became tedious when I was working on four hours sleep. After several months of early morning commutes, lunchtime feedings gone awry, and too many nights eating Hamburger Helper, I left my cubicle home for the life of “stay-home” motherhood.

I tried to enjoy meal planning and playgroups. I cleaned house with drive and precision. For a time, in early 2001, I even attempted a scrapbook. It was a disaster. Not working just wasn’t for me so over the past fourteen years I have patched together a professional life that I loved. And then suddenly I faced an opportunity to join a fast-moving start-up. I couldn’t resist. It’s not like I haven’t been working, but until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t worked in an office since 2007.

Change is hard. I believe I’ve stumbled upon the five stages of re-entry.

Thrill and Terror

It was impossible to imagine what life would be like after I went back but that didn’t stop me from making up multiple scenarios. It’s going to be great. It’s going to be awful. Repeat. In my vivid imagination I was a camera-ready executive striking deals in stilettos. I was also a weeping lump on the kitchen floor after finding out my children turned into Molly-popping twerkers in their newfound two-hour window of freedom each afternoon.

Obsessive Planning

Once the decision had been made (rather quickly) to go back to work, I started getting my house in order, literally. There was OCD-worthy cleaning to do so that I could hire a housekeeper. Meal plans had to be made and carpool arrangements negotiated. And then there wasThe Talk with The Man. All the little details I have taken care of for so many years–signing the kids up for soccer, taking them to the dentist mid-day, cleaning up after the dog–all this would now have to be split between the two of us. And frankly, during the first year in a new job, the burden was going to fall to him more often than not. Everything goes on the kitchen calendar. I’m the only one who looks at it, but that’s a start.

General Anxiety

The first few weeks of work brought predictable worries. Should the dog stay in the house and spend the day in the yard? And how was she coping emotionally with the sudden loss of her daily companion? Did the kids make it home from school safely? Do they have homework and will they do it if I’m not there to remind them? Are they eating enough? (And are scoring Molly?) Was my husband really okay with his new and expanded familial responsibilities? Would I ever have time to see my girlfriends again? And when in would I find time to write? Never mind that I don’t have time to get a haircut until Thanksgiving. Add to this my actual work responsibilities and I’m starting to understand why half the country is medicated.

Reality Check

In a panic-stricken moment, as I was obsessing over carpool, wardrobe, and when I’d ever get the crust removed from my feet again, my daughter turned to me and said: “Mom, it’s not like you’re the first person to ever have a job.” She had a point. Almost all of my friends have demanding jobs. Half of them are mothers. Besides, I had a Wonder Woman coffee mug. I could do this thing.

Acceptance

I’ve been at work nearly a month now. The role is as exciting and challenging as I hoped it would be, and life at home has settled into a steady rhythm that, while new and somewhat awkward, is manageable and sustainable. I don’t have as much time to write, to hit my yoga mat, to see my friends. But I’ve gotten more efficient with the time I do have. I pay more attention to my children when we’re in the same room. My husband and I take more walks together. It’s a new normal we’re cultivating, scary at times, but ultimately rewarding.

If only I had more time for wine.

Have you experienced re-entry lately? How are you coping?

Posted on 9/5/2013

Written by Lela Davidson

Lela is an award-winning humorist and freelance journalist who loves media and marketing. By day she manages content marketing Acumen Brands, building the popular Country Outfitter and Maple & West brands. Lela entertains and inspires audiences in print, web, video, and television. She writes and speaks about motherhood, marriage, marketing, and the challenges of being over-40 in a Botox world, and is the author of the humor collections Blacklisted from the PTA and Who Peed on My Yoga Mat?

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