Work it, mama

     Monday through Thursday every week, I pack up my lunch, my work bag, my breast pump and cooler and load them into my waiting, running car. I then return to the house, gather up my little one, bundling him in blankets and a hat and leave our warm house to drive a few miles in the crisp, winter air and drop him off at my parent's house.

     I am a working mom, well, we all are. But I work outside of the home.

     Being a working mom is a lot like being in the mob. You are happy to bring in the money, but it comes with a lot of guilt, tears and usually some colorful language.

     I absolutely love my work. I love what I do. I am one of the few people who work in the actual job that they envisioned when they were completing seemingly endless papers, projects and internships in college and grad school. I work with the sweetest people on Earth and my coworkers are fantastic. I have a very comfortable work environment and I get to make my own hours. But none of that makes it any easier when I put on my coat and wave goodbye to my little man in the morning, knowing that by the time I see him again the sky will be turning dark with night and he will be a few short, precious hours from bedtime. I love my work, but I love being a mommy more and many evenings after coming home to find him already asleep I catch myself standing over him trying to will him awake with my eyes and feeling guilty for the time that I lost.

     I am terrified of the things I will miss while I'm working, the milestones that I will not witness. I haven't missed one yet, but I know that it's coming. The odds are against me. I work more days than I'm home. Walking out of the door with my child looking longingly after me is a special kind of guilt. Especially knowing how difficult it was for me to get him here in the first place. I imagine it will only get harder the older he gets, once he is old enough to cry for me to stay. When he is old enough to miss me. I dread that.

     I work four days per week, eight hours per day. I see two clients, pump, see two clients, pump, see two clients and then head home. I am grateful to be able to pump so that even though I am not physically with him all day, an important part of me is. He is on my mind every minute of that time. My office is a shrine to my son, my appointment book has a picture of Archer on the cover. I try in every way to keep him as much a part of my day as physically possible.

     While away, I make the best of it. I turn my music up loud in the car, songs that I won't play when he is my passenger. If you pass me on the road and you hear Killing in the name of blasting from my car stereo you will know that I am on my way to or from work. I take my bills to work and pay them from there so that I don't have to take time away from him to do it at home. I've been known to paint my nails at work while pumping if I have an event coming up that weekend. I am lucky that my husband agrees to cook dinner at night so that I can have my evenings free to focus on Archer.

     I keep waiting for it to get easy. Seven months in almost... but I still feel that familiar tug at my heart everyday when I walk out of my parent's house leaving my buddy behind. It feels unnatural. It's definitely not easy yet.

     Not that it's easy staying home. Being that I work four days per week, I am home the remaining three and I can tell you without a doubt, I am significantly more worn out after a day of being home. Being a stay at home mommy is so difficult physically and mentally. It's extremely hard work and the pay sucks. There is absolutely no down time and somehow I never manage to have a chance to eat or pee. Maybe I would get a better system if I was home everyday. But while staying at home beats you up physically, being a working mommy beats you up emotionally. You walk around all day with a part of your heart missing.

     I completely get why there is the unspoken yet sometimes passive aggressively spoken conflict between the two different types of mommies. I think we are all a bit jealous of one another. I would kill to spend every day with my little guy, helping and watching him hit all of his milestones. I would adore that. But it's just not in the cards for me. Not if I want to live in a house, sleep in a bed and drive a car from point A to point B. And I believe that stay at home moms are probably envious of us working moms for having a few hours a day to ourselves and our own thoughts, adult conversations and a paycheck. It's like straight versus curly hair, we all want a little of what we don't have.

     Throughout my 5 weeks of maternity leave, I dreaded the day that I would return to work. Looking back, I wish I hadn't worried about it so much. The fears of returning to work took away from my enjoyment of my time at home. On my first day back, I cried the whole way to the office. I felt silly. What was I worried about? Archer was with my mother, the only other human being on the planet that I know for certain would care for him the way that I wanted. But I felt devastated. Completely lost. I felt like I was missing an arm. I counted the minutes until I could go home and hug my little love again.

     I tried to keep my sense of humor and took the opportunity to recreate the picture on my nursing bra box that my husband and I had both enjoyed so much. Very official and important looking on her laptop, hooked up to her milking machine, elegant sweater over her shoulders. He seemed to enjoy the picture message. But a million times throughout my day my thoughts drifted across town to my little Archer and months later they still do. I wonder if he notices that I am not there. I wonder if he misses me. My heart aches from missing him.

     My biggest concerns at work have changed as well. The parking lot for my building is about a block away down a dark, scary alleyway and prior to being a mom I worried about being mugged going into or leaving my office. Now my biggest fear is that someone will think my breast pump and cooler bag is a purse and steal them. I picture myself running after the assailant yelling, “that's a pump and breast milk, not a purse!” Usually in my daydream he gently puts down my bag and continues running and I am just grateful that he heard me. Mom brain is crazy.

     I would be lying if I said a part of me doesn't appreciate the hours that I get to use both of my hands to eat or complete a task, or the chance to pee whenever I need to do so. The time that I miss makes me appreciate the time that I do have with my son that much more. I cherish even fussy weekends because at least I'm there with him. If I get an invitation to an event that he can't tag along to, you likely won't see me there. No one on Earth gets priority over him. There just isn't anything that I want to do as much as spend time with him. In a lot of ways I think that working outside of the home has made me a more patient and attentive mother. I just don't want to miss an extra second than I have to with him.

     I have had a few occasions over the past 7 months where my mother could not watch Archer for a day or so, and on those days he comes to work with me. As exhausting as those days are and as nerve wracking due to the endless possibilities of diaper blow outs, crying jags and on demand feedings, these are days that I cherish. My little copilot, right by my side where he belongs. But I know the day will come when this is no longer an option as well. As he gets older and begins to talk and repeat, a confidential therapy session will probably not be the best place for him. But in the meantime, I am forever grateful for these days.

     I think I am in the same place as a lot of working moms. We have all had people question our decision to return to work and say that they don't feel money is worth leaving their kids all day. I imagine they picture me as Scrooge McDuck, diving into a pool of money that I keep piled up in my house. I assure you, if I didn't need to work, I wouldn't. Could I work less and still survive? Yes. But I want certain things for Archer, and unfortunately those things aren't free. I don't intend to hand him everything, or spoil him with new cars or the very latest technology, but it is important to me that he get the opportunity to travel and experience things that will help him to grow and learn as a person. I want to have a savings ready for him as my parent's did for me to use on his first car or put toward college or a year studying abroad, maybe toward a down payment or closing costs on his first home. That is important to me. I want life insurance on all of us and the security that it can provide for him and his future. I want a good school when the time comes and the chance for him to be involved in activities. These things cost money. These things are important to me. Many of these same mom's who try to make me feel bad for working sit in front of me on their phones, completely ignoring their kids who are falling all over themselves trying to get their attention.

     I think that there is a difference between quality and quantity of time. You can spend every moment with your child, but if you spend that time yelling at or ignoring them you might as well be working. I try to make the time that I do get with Archer as happy, fun and loving for him as possible. I want the quality of our time to be great.

     Before baby, I struggled with “me time.” Work was a priority and if something came up and I was in a position to drop everything to take care of it, I would. No more. Now my time at work is my time at work and my time at home is Archer's time. No more calls at home, stopping in the office on my day off to tie a loose end or staying late for paperwork. When I'm home I'm no longer a social worker, I'm just mommy, and I live for that. I think it is a much better balance. A much better quality of life for my entire little family.

     The guilt is so hard. That is exactly why as a working mom you must always remind yourself of why you get up everyday and overcome the urge to just call the office and quit. Remember the opportunities that you are working toward for your child. Forgive yourself for the things that you will inevitably miss and while you're at it, forgive the stay at home moms as well. Gaining understanding and acceptance for each others choices and supporting each other is imperative in our collective success as the mother's of this generation. Being a mommy is hard work regardless of your stay at home or working status. I think the one thing we can all agree on is that the family would be lost without any of us.