Many apologies for my prolonged absence from blogspace. Are you still there? Good. Just making sure I wasn’t merely apologising to myself for letting myself down, not carrying out my good intentions with a discipline of steel, yadda yadda yadda.
Turns out rather a lot has happened since my last post. After a gruelling exam season, I have finally graduated from my degree with a 2.1. I did have a 1st for about half an hour due to misreading a friend’s text message at first, and I screamed the house down with jubilant excitement, only to have to retract the news later! Nothing is ever straightforward.
As I mentioned before, I went for a (much too short for my liking) holiday in Rio in May, where I unsuccessfully planned to revisit the Vila Mimosa, Rio’s biggest prostitution district. During the trip the Boyf proposed! Yes, it was during a beautiful pink sunset on Itauna Beach in the town of Saquarema. The location was filmworthy, but I was sweaty and breathless and red in the face from running along the sand… So, I guess my days as a professional housegirlfriend are numbered. My heretofore bare fingers are now adorned with a rather sparkly bit of bling.
After getting back to London I have been struggling to get back into the swing of things. I have found I really miss my life in Brazil and desperately would like to go back to live there soon, even if only for a couple of years. I can’t bear the thought of my son growing up without experiencing a bit of my own childhood. You heard it here first.
After living off my student loan, my bank account is now looking rather poorly. Like pretty much everyone else in the country I am feeling rather downbeat about the economic situation. I am bloody skint! Time to get a job. A full time job, which will involve leaving my baby at nursery from 8am to 6pm five times a week. Which will leave little money left over after said nursery fees are paid. Which will mean my child spends more time being looked after by others than he does by me. It is all rather painful… Part of me is desperate to begin my career and put myself out there, to stop feeling completely dependent on my partner’s income and pursue personal achievement; another part of me just can’t help feeling that these early years with my son are infinitely precious and ephemeral. I think he still needs his mummy an awful lot and I find the thought of handing him over for such prolonged periods of time absolutely terrifying. I am completely certain that I am not alone in feeling like this! My lack of experience is restricting the number of home based work I could do too… I can’t imagine how difficult some women must find to be pressured to going back to work some times as early as four months after childbirth. Evidently many women relish returning to their careers away from the world of nappies and perennial catnapping, but I can’t help feeling there is something unnatural about forcibly breaking the mother-baby bond so soon… And so I am feeling excited and also rather terrified of re-entering the work force. What is the answer? I imagine my son will be ok… But I am going to miss him like HELL.