Practicing Connection During Separation

Coping on an almost week-long work trip

I am on my way back from an almost week-long work trip. I started a new job two months ago and lucky for me, our semi-annual offsite coincided with my freshness as a new employee. The offsite was my opportunity for my colleagues to get to know me off zoom. To get to know my non-lawyer side. The side of me that karaokes Rick Ross’s Hustlin’ (not a normal activity for me, but one I embraced and am proud of myself for). I stayed up late, introduced myself to new people, had several moments of building new friendships, and allowed my mind to zone out while riding a horse named Girl (she was black and brown and white and beautiful and had the most serene energy).

This all occurred during a very holy week for Jews — Yom Kippur — which meant C’s school was closed and Jonathan was left to manage our house, our child, and our dog, all while starting the week with a flight back home with C. More than capable, he took this in stride, didn’t complain, didn’t call with questions, and sounded genuinely happy I was having a good time (and genuinely happy C slept through the night and was in a great mood).¹

He sent me a video one morning (his time) of C toddling toward him with a framed photo in her little hand. “Mama.” “Mama.” “Mama,” she called as she handed him the photo. A photo of Jonathan and me at a friend’s wedding. His text beneath the video read: In case you don’t think she misses you.

Damn. My heart broke open as I watched. I think I audibly exhaled, groaned, with the beautiful pain in my heart representing the love I feel. And also the guilt I feel for being away for days, which to C, probably feels like months. She said blueberries (boo-beys) and she’s now walking far more than she’s crawling. I know she’ll remember me, but our physical attachment is temporarily broken. As I showed a couple co-workers this video, I said, “but the separation is good for us.” It is. I’m convincing myself.

I tell her my heart is connected to her heart with a string. Even when I’m away. And I think this visualization is more for me than for her. I need an anchor to my connection with her. A visual representation — a physical string — of our connectedness. Her separation from my body has been the biggest adjustment of motherhood; perhaps the most obvious and the most encompassing, too. She’s transitioned from my womb to my breast to my arms and now to her still-tiny shoes walking in our yard without holding my hand. And it will continue to transition, to separate, to grow. That’s the point, isn’t it?

I felt mostly focused and present during my work trip, but still, despite not pumping/breastfeeding and despite her more predictable sleeping, I could feel the division in my brain. A hemisphere focused on my work; a hemisphere focused on my mothering. Did she have a good day today? Did she cry? Did she say any new words? Is Jonathan doing ok? Has Tabor been walked? Did she eat any vegetables? Is she walking more? How were her poops? Did she like bath time? Did she sleep through the night or are her teeth bothering her? The list goes on.

When I felt my mind trailing off, I’d bring it back to the string connecting my heart with hers. This tangible (in my mind) connection, reminding me all is ok.

I likely won’t arrive until past bedtime tonight, but I will sneak into her room, silently twist the doorknob, and peer into her crib, watching her breathing from several feet away so I don’t wake her. Even the smell of her room will start to repair the attachment that has cracked by my absence. And tomorrow I will be able to hold her tightly.

I watch a mother of two at the gate. She carries her youngest on her chest as he stares into her eyes, lovingly with a paci in his mouth. And the mother of four, holding her youngest in her arms, the little bald head watching her siblings as she tightly grips her mother’s shirt.

Other things that helped:

• FaceTiming, but not more than 1x per day

• Allowing myself to sleep in (still woke up by 7:45am)

• Looking at photos and videos on my phone before I fell asleep

• Jonathan checking in (and not seeming stressed)

• Talking about our kids with my fellow-parent-colleagues

• Supportive company culture

• Sitting on the dock at the hotel overlooking the lake and feeling the mist as the wind blew

• Horseback riding

• Fall leaves and colors

• Yoga and meditation class

• Enjoying solo quiet time at the airport/on the plane

Things that didn’t help and instead, increased my anxiety:

• Too often refreshing the page where C’s school posts photos of the day

• Looking at my calendar for the following week

• Dealing with scheduling a doctor’s appointment

• Probably drinking but it was fun anyway so I don’t regret it

• Telling myself I was a bad mom for leaving

• Wondering if C would remember me

• Feeling guilty for missing “boo-beys”

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1. Yes, I did receive the “I will need you to be with her all day on Saturday” text, which is more than fair.