Exactly one year to the day, I found myself packing up my son's bag for his first day back at day care, bawling my eyes out. Monday morning drop-off was going to be a moment I had actually prayed for so many times over the past year, but there I was feeling what I could only describe as grief.
After 365 days, never once leaving my son in the care of someone else during the COVID-19 pandemic, I thought I'd be ready to get back to normal.
Turns out, it's a bit more complicated than that.
When the world flipped upside down on March 13, 2020, my husband and I pulled our son from day care in an effort to keep us all as safe as possible.
With both of us falling into the "high-risk" category, it just wasn't feasible for us to continue to send him, even though the day cares were open at first. We cut off physical contact with everyone we loved, limited grocery store trips as much as possible, and in general really locked ourselves down, save for our own backyard.
We were lucky to be able to shift our work to being fully remote. We were lucky that our son didn't need to do virtual learning. Lucky that our income, our food, and our shelter were (and are) stable. Nevertheless? It was hard as hell.
Considering toddlers can't exactly keep themselves occupied, for a year we struggled into landing on the routine that kept us all mostly sane.
Through the course of the year, I grappled with being constantly touched, consistently overstimulated, and overall overwhelmed as a parent, wife, and employee. There were days I cried on the bathroom floor and then began cleaning it because, well, it had to be done and this was the only chance I'd get to do it.
Suffice to say, I thought when the day came that that I could ship my son off, all I would feel is relief.
When I was able to score a vaccination for myself and my husband, the realization hit me that in a few weeks time, my son could head back to school.
Life would return to semi-normal in that bubble. I won't lie, I was initially pumped.
I emailed his day care coordinator with a quickness — and boom! — we had a restart date. In the weeks leading up to the date though, I realized that while this year was an utter disaster, there were so many precious moments to come out of this nightmare.
I think my son and I were always going to be close, but this year really cemented our bond.
I got to watch in real-time how he is evolving as a person with few distractions. While I don't recommend having no escape while child rearing, the lack of options and bustling allowed us to connect on a really deep level. I was able, along with my husband, to help mold a huge chunk of his personality which just so happens to be shaping up really nicely if I say so myself.
Truth be told, a large part of me is going to miss the hell out of it.
I know, I sound like one of those moms that tell new parents to "cherish every moment," but hear me out: Life isn't supposed to be the way it was this past year. We lost so much, some of us our village and others even more. But the fact that I got to snuggle with my kid and to get him down for his nap, or sit and slowly eat breakfast, it's been a blessing I never thought I'd get.
I'm genuinely mourning the time where I was the entirety of his world. It sounds selfish, but it is true.
Though of course I want him to be healthy and mentally enriched by people from all walks of life, there was such a sweetness to getting him all to ourselves. We've desperately missed our family and friends, but our little family unit got so much stronger during all this. Our communication skills improved, we were able to better learn our son's cues, and ultimately truly learned how to enjoy each other in the moment.
Now? That's honestly over. We're moving on to times where he will not only enjoy friends' company but want it over ours. His world is expanding and, as a result, so is mine. But a piece of me will always have this year to remember. I don't know what this means for our future as a family, or what it means for my lifelong journey as a mom, but I know this year changed me.
So to the mamas out there counting down the days until it's your turn to return to some semblance of normalcy, I hope you know every feeling you feel is valid. Love and loss can coexist, and one does not cancel out the other.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be off to enjoy my cup of (actually hot) coffee in peace.
