I just left work at Jennie G's for the last time. I expected to be crying on the drive home, but instead I just felt a strange nagging pull as though I'd forgotten something of mine back in the shop. I hadn't, though. I had collected my personal records, deleted old emails, and cleaned out my snack stash. I had turned in my key and name badge and packed up all of Suzi's pictures. The one thing I left was a mug that says "born to shop, forced to work." Because I'm not anymore.
I'm hoping things will feel normal once Ivey arrives. Even though the decision to quit was difficult, I know it was the right thing to do. I only would've been able to take six weeks off (with zero benefits, and even then wouldn't have had my job absolutely guaranteed when I came back). Six weeks isn't long enough for me to establish breastfeeding or bond with my baby. Maybe that is some mothers' idea of how to parent but it's not mine. I did it once and I don't intend to ever do it again.
It was still hard to leave today because I really do love the people I work with, and it's just not fair that to see them everyday I would have to leave my children. I'm hoping the shock will wear off soon. It's always been scary for me to make that leap from one season of my life to another. You never know just how far of a jump it's going to be!
Getting Through the ‘Sandwich Years’
1 hour ago