Brandon and I right before heading to daycare.
I wasn't as much of a mess as I thought. I mean, of course I teared up. The daycare ladies were prepared with a "first day survival kit," containing, most importantly, kleenex.
My tears had dried by the time I made it to work. I brought in a picture of Brandon to place on my desk so I could look at his chubby face even though he wasn't with me.
It's a bit different returning to work for me, because although I'm returning to the same company, I'm in a different role in a different location. So I didn't even know half of the people at work today. They probably thought I was a freak. If I could have worn my sunglasses indoors, I would have, but I think that would have made a worse impression than a blotchy red face (which I already had anyway due to a sunburn, so maybe it wasn't that noticeable).
I called during my lunch break to check on Brandon. And you know what? He slept and ate and played on the floor and sat in a vibrating chair just like he would have done if I were watching him. Daycare isn't the end of the world as I know it.
The moment I picked him up, I almost didn't recognize him, save for his outfit. He looked so different from me, being away so long. It's as if I forgot what his face looked like, not looking at it every hour. But the second I saw him, the two of us smiled at each other. Reunited again. And will be again, and again, and again, every day when I pick him up. I think that daycare will make me cherish my time with him even more. There's something to look forward to: rushing out of work to see my darling boy again. He makes life worth living and work worth working.