Hard.

Going through pre-term labor and having to go on bed rest was hard.

Labor without an epidural and learning in the end I had to have a c-section was hard. Recovery was hard. Those first few days at home learning how to care for a newborn baby on no sleep were really hard.

Not being able to ever rest mentally, physically, emotionally because you have this new precious life you're responsible for is hard.

But put all of that together, plus all of the other countless times I've said, something was too hard or that I couldn't do it, and it doesn't come close to how hard it is for me to go to work every day.

Going back to work is by far the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Waking up the love of my life before the sun rises to dress her before I send her off for the day is hard. Watching her and Drew drive away is hard. Not being able to be there for her morning smiles and laughter is hard. Knowing that she is depending on someone else to meet her needs for the day is hard. Hoping that she doesn't forget who I am and praying that our bond will never be broken is hard.

I never thought I would love Lila the way I do. Sure, I knew I would love her. But this much? No. Never imagined it. I love her with my whole being. I love her beyond explanation or reasoning.

It's hard. Plain and simple.

I know that Lila will be ok. I know she will thrive with her Grammie and have so much fun. She will learn and grow. I know that she will be taken care of and loved to the moon and back. And although I don't know it right now, others tell me that I will be ok and that the bond Lila and I have will never be broken. We are mother and daughter. She is mine. And I am hers. But it doesn't make it any less hard.

I want to be there to scoop her up from her morning and afternoon nap and watch her stretch her sleepy body. I want to be the one who talks and sings to her through the day. To give her 1,000 kisses on those ever-growing chubby cheeks. I want to be there when she discovers something new for the first time and reaches out to investigate it. To clap for her when she does something great and reaches a milestone. I want to be the one who makes her laugh by making ridiculous faces and noises. I want to feed her and change her diaper. Listen to her coo and babble. I want to hold her when she cries. When she laughs. When she smiles. When she's sleepy. I want to be there. I want to be there for it all. For everything.

But I am not. And that is hard. Really, really hard.