Going back to work at twelve weeks felt impossible. I had finally found my footing as a mother, and then I was supposed to just... leave? My son was still so small, still needing me every few hours, still fitting so perfectly against my chest.
The first few weeks were a blur of pumping in supply closets and video calls during nap time. But the weekends became sacred. From Friday evening to Sunday night, I wore him as much as he wanted. We walked through the neighborhood, napped together, and I tried to soak up every moment.
My Cub Wrap became the symbol of that time together. During the week it sat folded in the drawer, waiting. By Friday I couldn't wait to pull it out. Those weekend wraps were how I maintained our connection even as our weekdays pulled us apart.
Now he's one, and I'm still wrapping on weekends. He's heavier now, more curious, pointing at everything we pass on our walks. The wrap has become our shared space in a world that keeps moving faster.
To working moms: you're doing enough. Your love doesn't stop when you drop them at daycare. And the moments you do have? They're enough.