When I worked in an office, I remember feeling insanely jealous of people who told me they were working from home. Idyllic pictures of snuggling in bed with a laptop, popping out to cafes, that sort of thing. I longed for the flexibility of going to appointments without having to take half a day of annual leave. I daydreamed about ridding myself of the long commute and spending more time doing the things I loved.
Towards the end of my first pregnancy, my boss offered me to start working from home a few days a week. The dream was a reality. I rolled out of bed 20 minutes before I needed to start work. I went to the open air swimming pool during my lunch break, and was home as soon as I closed my laptop.
Fast forward eight months and I was made redundant from my job as a marketing manager. I had been planning to try and go back part time, or to be working from home a few days, so I could have more time with Lottie. But it seemed that wasn’t to be.