But simultaneously, I'm clinging on to his love of it and his need for closeness to my bosom, because I know once I let it go then...well, it's gone. It's easy to become marooned in a habit of mourning and lost goodbyes, without properly greeting and welcoming new phases in life.
But it's not just the practical steps which companies can take. There also needs to be an understanding and recognition of the emotional impact upon a father returning to work from parental leave. Just as it is widely understood and anticipated that mothers may feel conflicted and vulnerable during those first few days and weeks, the same might be true for the returning father.
But every day you will feel the love. The pure, infinite, limitless love which beats in you like another organ. The love that is embedded in you, attached to your soul, which can never be removed, no matter what. The love that is now part of your identity, the relentless, all-encompassing love that you have for your child.
In the run up to number one's arrival we visited some friends who had offered to lend us lots of baby gear. For the finale they produced a bizarre-looking contraption they'd used to help their colicky baby get to sleep. You had to attach it to the bottom of the cot, plug it in and then it vibrated vigorously.
You may have heard the term creative play and wondered why exactly it's deemed so important. Creative play, in which children use their imagination rather than direct instructions, has a key role in many aspects of development.
Mental health, two words that you will have heard numerous times over the last week. It's been all over the news. The Royal Family are getting involved and talking about their experiences as well as supporting mental health charities. Statistics are everywhere, we are being told that one in four women living in the UK are currently suffering with a mental health issue.
Please don't stop trying to reach out to new mums - I may not reply but continue to contact me on as many different forms of social media as possible and as often as you can. Despite being incredibly caught up in my own world of spit up, babble, lack of sleep and dirty nappies, I try to listen and hear what you're telling me about your life too - honest.
Our thoughtful friends asked us if we wanted to bring our kids to their wedding. Most of their friends are child-free, so they didn't care either way about upping the numbers by two. I think they were a little shocked by our vehement negative response.
I don't know about you, but since I became pregnant with my first daughter I have had other people pass comment on my mothering skills. Whether it was doing too much or too little exercise whilst pregnant, or how I manage my child's tantrums now she's here, everyone has an opinion.
Let me tell you. It isn't good. Nothing good happens before 7am (similar to my rule of parties in my twenties - nothing good happens after 2am. Go home at 2am. If I'm up at 2am now it is for very different reasons. Rarely featuring tequila.)
In the last part of the adoption process, before we were officially matched, everything seemed to hang in the balance because nothing was official until the matching panel, where (very knowledgeable and kind) strangers would decided if we were the right match for the children we'd never met but had all ready fallen in love with.
The flight itself isn't actually the hardest part for me. It's the effort involved in getting to the gate that makes me lose the will to live. The faff of negotiating all the gear along with the likelihood of losing a small child on route sends my cortisol levels soaring.
A year ago today I was eighteen weeks pregnant and I had contracted swine flu, though at the time nobody knew that. My mother-in-law came round and found me lying on the sofa in agony, throwing up, and feeling faint. She was frightened for me and phoned my dad.
These days you will be hard pressed to find a child who doesn't have access to technology - a device that is permanently glued to their nose and the only 'toy' that will keep them entertained without screaming down the house to be quiet.
When I first got my boobs out to feed my baby, I had no idea I'd still be doing it nearly two years later. TWO YEARS. I didn't think my boobs were going to get through two months of breastfeeding, and yet here they are, still doing their thing.
Our little man, the second youngest of a family of six, is the quietest one out of them all. He is the kid who very rarely gets told off, but when he does, you feel traumatised for doing so. His whole face breaks but he makes no sound and you are left feeling guilty for something he has done!