Guilt

Being a mom is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I couldn’t imagine my life without J (nor would I want to).  Some days are hard (of course).  After we had our son, I had the hardest time going back to work.  I missed him.  I felt like a bad mom by leaving him at daycare.  I wanted to be the one to take care of him.  Don’t get me wrong, there were days when I was relieved I could go to work but that was always short lasting.  I never thought I would want to be home with my baby, but I did.  Prior to going on maternity leave, the girls at work would joke about whether or not I would come back to work.  I thought that was ridiculous. Of course I would be back.  I couldn’t imagine it any other way. I had worked hard to go to PA school for a grueling 26 months.  I pictured myself working as a PA and being a mama. Of course, after I had J things changed.  While on maternity leave, I couldn’t imagine leaving him.  I did go back to work but within a month or two, I cut back on my hours so I could have the “best of both worlds”.  I am very lucky that I am able to do that and have a supportive husband that encourages this, but some days it just doesn’t feel like enough.  Some days I would love to be home with J more days of the week.  I truly believe “mom guilt” starts the moment your baby is born.

I feel guilty leaving him to go to work… yet I feel guilty when he’s home with me as if I am holding him back from experiences he may have if he were in daycare.

I feel guilty he isn’t in daycare (grandma watches him now)… yet I felt guilty when he was in daycare.

I feel guilty cutting down my hours (as if I can’t handle being a full time working mom and wife)… yet I feel guilty working as much as I do.

I can’t let myself feel these things or I end up down a rabbit hole feeling guilty rather than enjoying every minute with him.  It’s so much easier said than done but I force myself to focus on the NOW as that’s the only thing I can change.

Every night when I rock him, I try to memorize every little detail.  The way his head rests on my shoulder.  The way his hair smells after his bath.  The softness of his fleece pajamas.  The way his small hands hold mine.  The way he gives me hugs and kisses goodnight (the only time I get them).  He won’t always be this small.  I am learning to treasure every moment because that my friends is worth fighting for.

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