In just one week I will return to work.
I want to ignore this fact.
I want to spend this week pretending that nothing will change. But I can't.
My heart is heavy. My stomach is sour.
I am sore from pumping so much milk for my baby.
Never mind that we have enough milk in the freezer for him to survive a month without me if I turned brain-eater in a sudden zombie apocalypse. And more to share with the puppy, if it came to that.
I just keep pumping, as though that will keep a little part of me with him throughout the days.
In truth, it will.
I can't seem to motivate myself to do much more than lie around in bed with snoozy babies and puppies. And pump more milk.
It isn't a bad way to spend the time. But I feel like I should be...doing something more. Like making a hair appointment.
Or running away to Mexico with my little family.
Without a pump.