When you were tiny, just twelve weeks old, I went back to work. I cried as I gave you a kiss and handed you off to Dad so I could go to my first shift, cried in the car on the drive in to the hospital, cried in the call room as I set up my pump parts, ready to go at a moments' notice, so I could pump even if the ER was packed. I remember the first time I was pumping when a code was called, and I spilled milk and flanges scattered across the floor as I scrambled to grab my badge and stethoscope and rush back down to the ER. At 12 weeks, I was not ready to be away from you. You needed your Momma.
It did get easier, but even as you got older and less dependent on me and my body for love, nutrition and comfort, I couldn't help but have this nagging feeling, this sadness, every time I left. It shifted- from guilt about being away from you when I knew how much we both loved breastfeeding cuddles, to feeling haunted by your cries when I left you in your nanny's arms, even when I found you laughing and smiling with her hours later.
It was a feeling so intense I even turned down a dream job in global health at a reputable hospital, the perfect next step in my career, to be home more with you and baby brother. I was tired of being the Working Mom, constantly missing you, wanting to show up 100% for my job and 100% for you, and feeling like I was failing at both.
Now we're home together as a family of four. I have you and M all to myself (except for Yiayia, who I am happy to share with.) I take you to the playground, to 'cookie dates' at Starbucks, to library class. With M in my arms I tuck you in for naps, help you start an art project or science experiment, make your favorite snacks. The (not so) perfect stay at home Mom.
But now that I've been both Moms, I see things differently. M is 9 weeks. I'm going back to work Friday. Dad will watch you guys while I spend 3 hours at my own Dad's outpatient clinic. You know I am a doctor and that I 'take care of sick babies.' You know I use a stethoscope and bring you back stickers from our nurses at clinic and the busy urgent care one town over. After getting home I trip over myself to change out of my scrubs and hold you. I'm convinced your mommy's home hugs are your best hugs ever. And this broken patriarchal society we live in, I love showing you that I, your mother, can provide for you and for my family.
I'm not sad I turned down the busy hospital job. 15 hour night shifts and a 0.8 FTE are sacrifices I am no longer willing to make for my career, at least not for now. I swapped the high intensity (and high paying) jobs in hospitals for lighter, more flexible work. I swapped the steady paycheck for the ability to say 'no' to work whenever I want to - something that for me feels priceless at this stage in my life. Its a little scary, but I'm thankful I even have this choice. It's a privilege I know many cannot afford.
I used to think that if I succeeded as a doctor I failed somewhere as a Mom, and that if I threw myself into motherhood I was failing myself in my chosen vocation. But it's just not true.
I realize now that it's not that I hated being a working mom. I just needed to do both, on my own terms.
I'm not a stay at home Mom. And I'm not a working mom. I'm just mom.
Love you.
Mommy