In a conversation with my child’s caregiver, she remarked that I was the only new mother she had encountered who didn’t shed a tear on my first day back at work after maternity leave. While a part of me felt a sense of accomplishment from this observation, a larger part couldn’t help but question my level of affection for my daughter.
As I made my way to the subway on the second day of my return to work, I imagined a black heart emoji hovering above my head, a constant reminder of my supposed emotional detachment while I navigated the challenging waters of work-life balance. How could I have managed to avoid crying as I said goodbye to my precious little one? Why wasn’t I overcome with emotion at her innocent coos when I explained that I would be gone for ten hours? Did it not concern me that this was the longest we had ever been apart? That I would need to pump breast milk instead of feeding her directly? That I would be reliant on the nanny to inform me of her daily pooping habits? Or that I would have to wait for a text to learn whether she had successfully discovered thumb-sucking?
The reality is that, by the three-month mark of motherhood, I was eager to reclaim a piece of my pre-baby life. In truth, my choice to return to work was made with minimal inner conflict. The time I had spent caring for my daughter during her initial weeks was filled with precious moments, yet it confirmed for me that being a stay-at-home mom was not my ideal path.
As my official work start date loomed, my excitement grew for the prospect of immersing myself in my job for 8 to 10 hours a day, five days a week. The thought of engaging with adults, using the restroom without juggling a baby, and eating meals at my leisure was exhilarating! I had carefully selected a trustworthy nanny after interviewing numerous candidates, which reassured me that my daughter was in capable hands. I recognized that working and maintaining a fragment of my former identity were essential for my mental health.
Naturally, I do miss my daughter throughout the day. I find myself yearning to hold her and witness her adorable, toothless grin at least once every hour. However, I have not experienced any profound emotional distress during our time apart, nor have I shed a single tear.
And you know what? That’s perfectly fine! I am not a black heart emoji just because I appreciate my time away from home. I absolutely adore both my job and my child. I’m a vibrant pink heart adorned with gold sparkles, even if I must frequently remind myself that there is no single “correct” way to be a mother.
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In summary, embracing the role of a working mom has brought me joy and fulfillment. I have learned that it is possible to love both my job and my child without feeling guilty or inadequate.