Who are you responsible for?
Since COVID restrictions have loosened, I’ve been on the road training investigators at regional conferences and local agencies. There are so many good people around the country doing really hard work. These people are the voice of the dead and families of the missing. They do this work with few resources, frequently understaffed. Sometimes they do this work in addition to their normal duties, on the side when there is time. If you are out there doing this work, keep going; it might be hard, but you are making a difference and I’m so proud of you!
Headed back down memory road, back to my work/life story, I settled into working evenings at the medical examiners’ office and loved it. My midsection was growing wider by the week – with a baby and with my new shiftwork habits. I wasn’t getting too much exercise; my hands and feet went numb around month 5 and all I wanted to eat was a bowl of strawberries and black beans (gross but true). When my daughter was born, I realized quickly that life as I knew it was over. What took longer to understand was that my old life was never coming back. That was hard to process. For some reason, all of the books I’d read about pregnancy stopped after the baby was born! No one warned me about how I would feel afterwards. I felt like a workhorse; worn-out, lost, lonely, guilty, and exhausted. I wanted to get back to work as soon as possible but my brain was mush, I could barely stay awake, and my emotions were completely out of whack. I’ve never been much of a crier, but I would start sobbing immediately during The Sopranos because someone was mean to someone else! Any time I spent on myself – like taking a shower or a walk without the baby – was illegal and immoral. My husband was a huge help, taking walks with the baby, shifts overnight for diaper changes, and keeping me company during marathon nursing sessions. When the time came for me to come back to the office, after the longest but fastest maternity leave in the world, I was relived to get back to work again but also devastated. How would this little creature survive without me? How would I survive without her?
The short answer is: we survived. It was not easy at first (or even now). My husband was still finishing his PhD and working as a Teacher Assistant on the side so I would take mornings and he would take evenings. Neither of us slept much. Showering was considered a win. In the first few months in the office, I would come in at 2pm and immediately nap (unless there was work to do). The dead were quiet, unlike my colicky 3month old. I had to buy a portable mini fridge and pump in the upstairs breakroom which, if you’ve worked in a morgue at night, you might know is not the most relaxing environment in the world. I would drive home around 10pm, usually just in time for the first night feeding session and a long cuddle. And then we’d do it all over again. The sleepless nights and days became routine and the guilt was not as sharp after a while, but it is still there, lining most things I do. I can never catch up from lost sleep and I can never spend enough time with my family – but talking about my work and my life helps me process the things I’ve experienced, and chances are other people have been through this too! What is your experience balancing work and life? I’d love to hear it!
