Working girl angst

My whole life I have been working on my career. Every move I've made since I first joined the workforce, at the ripe age of 12, was in pursuit of my professional goals.

To be honest, I'm not sure where my intentions came from, but I've had them from as far back as I can remember. For a second grade assignment, I was asked to draw a picture of "what I wanted to be when I grew up." Heavily influenced by the evening soap operas of the '80s (yes, even at the age of 6), I drew a woman in a shoulder-padded suit with a string of pearls standing by a desk. I proudly presented the picture to my parents later that evening. While my mother appreciated my fashion sense, my father asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. Boldly, I told him, "I'm going to be a lawyer." He scoffed, and perplexed by my admission since my immediate and extended family were all "blue collar" workers of one type or another, asked why. My response, "So I can wear a suit everyday!" Now that's a goal!

Since then, I've been working towards my ever-changing goals. But, within 6 or so weeks, I will be leaving my job and not to pursue other opportunities. This will be the first time I'm leaving the workforce for personal reasons! And, I can't tell you the anxieties I'm feeling!

At this point in the game, you'd think I'd be worried about labour and the excrutiating pain that is awaiting me before I get to welcome my new babe into this world. Or, perhaps, I should be worried about the upcoming 18 years and how horribly I'm going to screw up my child. Or, the other million and one things I should be worried about.

But, lo and behold, I'm working harder, and when my eyes can stay open, longer hours than I've ever done. Work and all I think I need to do before my departure are the things that wake me up in the middle of the night. Pathetic, I know. Last night, I woke up at 2:25 am in a fit because I had forgotten to send an email about something to someone. After trying to fall back asleep for 30 minutes, I got out of bed and sat down at the computer and started working. I worked until about 6, at which time I went to sleep for an hour or two, only to return to the computer at 8.

Mr. Oh can't understand me. In truth, neither can I. Perhaps, this is simply my practice for middle of the night feedings. Instead of tending to my computer, I'll be nurturing my little one.