I have a friend who just started back to work this week after giving birth to her first child. All week, she's been glum over the realization that her schedule only gives her about an hour and a half daily with her son. She's been asking her mom friends whether or not it gets better, begging us to tell her it will.
So I don't think she was really thrilled with my answer...
It won't.
I know, that's soooo pessimistic. But I've been there. I've done that. I wrote the book (actually, just a blog) about it.
For the first 25 months of G's life, I was a working mom -- hence the original title of this blog. When I first went back to work after my maternity leave, it was painful. I spent roughly 8 hours and 47 minutes of my 9-hour workday pining for her, longing to see her smiley face instead of my boss's dour expression.
I cried when I missed her roll over for the first time.
I threw a minor tantrum when I missed her first word, which was not "Mama."
I had a hissy fit when I missed her first feeble attempts at crawling.
And it only got worse from there. Over those two years, I missed more memories -- not just the coveted "firsts," but subtle, run-of-the-mill milestones I'll never get back -- than I care to count. I did the math, and realized my daughter saw her daddy and her nanny more than she saw me during any given week. It broke my heart.
As G got older, I realized I'd soon be missing out on even more. Working would keep me from helping out in her preschool as a room mom. It would keep me from being able to take her to -- and watch her at -- dance class. It would deprive me of the time to swim with her on a lazy Tuesday afternoon at the local Y. And as I looked down the road, I saw my work interfering with volleyball games as a teenager, sending her off on her first date, teaching her to drive a car.
I've always said on this blog that I admire those working moms who love their jobs so much that spending 40, 50 even 60 hours a week away from their children is worth it; I wasn't that lucky, and I have no shame in admitting that I was supremely jealous of the moms who felt that kind of passion toward their career.
But I don't think even the most seasoned working mom will tell you that she'd rather choose an 8am board meeting or a 7pm "working dinner" over spending time with her children.
So, does it ever get any easier? In my experience, no. It never did. I felt a pang every day when I left my daughter behind in the care of a nanny. I felt a sense of longing every day when I stared at her picture at my work desk. And I felt a rush of exuberant joy every evening when I returned home to her.
But I got used to it. I adjusted. I compensated. And I got through it. And my friend will too.
This entry was posted
on Thursday, December 08, 2011
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This makes me so thankful that I work where I work. I'm home by 3 most days, which meant that even before Eric started staying home, I got 4-5 hours of time with Cate before bedtime and a lot of what I missed during the day was her naptime. Thankfully, my boss is very family oriented as well. She's allowed me to leave school to do things at Cate's school or attend well checks for Brennan without docking me time or pay. Every fall we cover one another's classes so that the Mommy's and Daddy's of kindergartners can go back home (we start at 7:15) and watch their kiddos get on the bus/drive them to their first day of school. When she retires, I'll cry if our next principal isn't as family focused. And probably quit.
I think you hit the nail on the head - it's never gotten any easier for me either, 2+ years later I still feel so sad having to be the one working and missing out. I got more used to it as the months went by after my return to work, and adjusted that this was how it had to be, but it has yet to get "easy". I wish I could be in your position instead, every.single.day. That's never gotten better. It just is what it is, and you have to make the best out of what you have to do and cannot change (at least not for now).
It didn't get easier for me. I would pick Kayden up around 4 or 4:30, get home, eat dinner, and she was getting ready for bed by 7. We barely saw her. But like you said, we got used to it. And as a teacher, I was lucky to have summers off.
Thank you for this reminder that even on the days when I feel like hell and am overwhelmed by caring for four children all day, I am SO insanely lucky I don't have to choose. Especially since I'd choose Ava in a heartbeat, and then be screwed financially!
J will be 4 in February, and I would say it has gotten harder, as my hours have steadily increased with his age...
DH & I are back to re-evaluating how important my health insurance is to our survival...