This entry in a often-read blog hit home with me, for reasons that some of you know about, being that I am currently experiencing many of the things she talks about. I am a working mother in "that" particular field, and so I have many, many thoughts on this issue.
There was a time, when I would have said that it was possible to have a wonderful career and be a wonderful mommy, and that you just had to find a great boss who understood the struggles that you go through just to make things balance out. At that point, I would have also said that if you develop a niche for yourself and make yourself invaluable, you can "do anything."
But it is hard. It is very, very, very hard. In the first place, motherhood is a very lonely thing sometimes--which we never admit to ourselves, let alone to other people. True, it is by far the most rewarding thing I have ever done in my life, but it is also the one that requires the most sacrifices.
When you have another full-time job that can also be very stressful, you can go ape-shit unless you have a lifeline of sorts: people whom you can call and to whom you can cry once you've shut your office door, someone into whom you can crumple into a ball and cry your heart out. I needed a lifeline this past week, when The Governor could not eat or sleep because his mouth was hurting so much, and when I yelled at him because I was at the verge of temporarily losing my sanity. I needed someone to tell me that I wasn't a terrible mommy for yelling at a sick child. (but I wouldn't have believed them if they told me that)
Sometimes I wish I could just stop working, but I can't because I am the primary breadwinner financially, and quitting in this job market is complete suicide. In fact, I try not to think about it, seeing as even just looking for another job is extremely difficult.
I see what a wonderful boy my little one is turning out to be, and yes, everything is fine with him. In fact, things are so beyond my expectations in terms of how wonderful the experience has been. But on the hour-long commute on the way home, I become wistful and sometimes it hurts because I can never get home soon enough.
I got used to coming home occasionally when The Governor was in bed. But the first time I had to do it, my heart broke into a thousand pieces.
I am a firm believer that mothers need to carve out little parts of their life that are their very own, and do things that they do just for themselves, and be interesting....just for the sake of being interesting.
It is an ongoing struggle, I think it will always be that way, and there will be some things (details, relationships with friends, cleaning) that fall by the wayside.
But when The Governor is sleeping soundly in his bed, his beautiful long lashes resting gently on his still-chubby cheeks, I'll crawl into his bed and lie beside him and put my hand on his stomach and feel the inhale and exhale. And at that moment, it just feels like everything is right.
Posted by equilibrium-girl at July 13, 2004 02:41 PM