Let me tell you, being a mom is no walk in the park. There are days filled with uncertainty where I question if I’m truly doing right by my family and myself. But through it all, my daughter has shown me that I am making the impact I always dreamed of.
My partner, Jake, is simply amazing. He’s beloved by everyone who knows him. Patient, kind, fun-loving, and incredibly smart, he is an extraordinary dad. From the moment I learned I was expecting, he was ready to do whatever necessary to support me. He bought me a pregnancy pillow, helped me put on my socks when my feet swelled up, and coached me through labor with such enthusiasm that I actually smiled through the contractions. After two hours of pushing, Jake officially became a dad.
I was fortunate that he’s a teacher; when our daughter arrived that early summer, he was home to support me. I got daily showers, three meals, and never felt alone. Eager to include him, I often took a backseat whenever possible, as much as a breastfeeding mom could manage. Admittedly, being overwhelmed made that backseat feel like the safest place to be.
From the moment I gave birth, I worried about returning to work. With a daunting four-hour daily commute on public transport, I knew I’d only get to see my little one for about two hours, made up of drop-offs and bedtime routines. Sitting in my hospital gown, I felt a tinge of jealousy for Jake, who would pick her up at 3 PM and spend quality time with her. I couldn’t shake the thought that I’d always be the one leaving while he became her hero at the end of the day. I fretted about how she would adapt to being with strangers instead of her parents. I didn’t hold her as much as I wished because, in a room full of babies, I knew she couldn’t always be picked up. The thought of her crying for hours was unbearable, even though I had no way of knowing if that would be the case. Could I even “prepare” a 12-week-old for such a transition?
Sadly, summer ended for Jake, and he returned to work. I had some time alone with our daughter, but honestly, I don’t remember much of it. I worried about her weight due to my struggles with breastfeeding, and while I remember moments of tummy time and dressing her for photos, what stands out most is the joy on Jake’s face when he walked through the door after work. He would swoop her up, and watching them together filled my heart.
As I approached the end of my maternity leave, the anxiety of going back to work was overwhelming. I enjoyed my job—it was challenging and fulfilling—but the reality of my situation was daunting. Thankfully, my boss allowed me to work from home two days a week, which eased the burden of commuting and helped with the daycare transition. I’ll always be grateful for that opportunity.
On my first day back to commuting, I cried while getting my daughter ready. Then, in an unexpected twist, she fountain-peed all over me, soaking everything—including our dog. What started as tears transformed into laughter. I dug deep and managed to get her dressed.
Every day, we were the first ones at daycare, as I had to catch a 6:52 AM train just ten minutes away. This required meticulous planning and left little room for error. I dropped off bottles—half formula, half breast milk since I could barely pump enough for one full bottle—and buckled her into her swing, giving her a kiss before leaving the room without looking back. Most days, I miraculously made it to the train. Once on my way to work, I was exhausted by the time I reached my desk at 8:30 AM.
The return home was chaotic. I rushed to see my daughter for a few minutes before the evening routine began, which meant feeding her, putting her to bed, and diving into the second shift of chores. For a whole year, this was my life. Eventually, I made the decision to switch jobs, leaving my fulfilling position for one that allowed me a better work-life balance.
Taking a massive pay cut to return to a previous career meant less commuting and proximity to daycare. I thought this was my chance to become my daughter’s hero, pushing my wonderful husband to second place. But it wasn’t a competition.
However, the new job brought unexpected challenges. Although I connected with my new coworkers, the workload resulted in late nights and weekend commitments. The volume of work exceeded my expectations, forcing me to rely heavily on animated films like Moana and Sing to occupy my daughter while I managed the chaos of my new role.
With Jake leaving early for work, I often found myself alone with our daughter, who was up with the sun and full of energy. My “moment” of being the primary parent was stressful, filled with anxiety over potential meltdowns, trying to balance work responsibilities, house chores, and the desire to simply enjoy this time with her.
It wasn’t until I changed jobs again that I began to see the light. This new position was the right fit, leading to a much-needed balance in my life. I finally understood what my daughter was trying to communicate. When she said, “Mama, come watch Moana with me,” it was her way of asking for my attention and affection.
I began to notice little things—if I used my left hand to eat, she mirrored me; if I cleared my throat, so did she. She even started calling me “babe,” just like I called her. Every hug and kiss she offered when I seemed under the weather was her way of showing empathy. She was emulating me, and I had been missing it.
This past year has been filled with joyful moments rather than feelings of inadequacy. I now appreciate Jake’s role in our family instead of nitpicking over trivial matters. It’s not perfect, but we’re working on it.
Just last week, while tucking her into bed, I asked if she wanted her hair up or down. She replied, “I want it up, just like you, mama.” My heart swelled as I searched for her hair tie in the dark. She is my little partner, my Ethel to my Lucy, and I am so grateful to have finally recognized the bond we share.
As you navigate your own parenting journey, remember that every moment counts. For more insights and support, check out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination. And if you’re looking for uplifting stories, you can explore our other blog posts for good vibes.